Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
john-oconnell
The world does not care if your days and nights are torn asunder by the crimes and tragic mistakes of yesteryear.
0
Nov 8, 2010
Nov 8, 2010 at 3:25 PM UTC
The world does not care
I hear, now, the traffic of time speeding on into the gaping black-hole of the avaricious and all devouring night.
0
Nov 8, 2010
Nov 8, 2010 at 3:10 PM UTC
I hear, now,
Land of pain and complaints teaching it's young the miserable lessons of failure and injustice that went cruelly mad. An island with rugged shores that turn in on it's own populace. Rising. genuflecting and falling 'fatefully' again into the puddles of it's own demise. All that remains is an emerald sadness filled with living ghosts.
0
Nov 8, 2010
Nov 8, 2010 at 5:54 AM UTC
Ireland
Distance stretched the length of our nearness that time in the park, the Phoenix Park, when the deer fled from our coming and you, silently with the sound of thunder, walked over there knowing that I, being unsure and trying to think the reasonable thing, would follow when desire was to strike out and savour the wounds of a false pride. But then the November darkness came quickly where you had come to stop and swirling leave shoals rose and fell like souls praying for the next rush to lift them higher before a distant bell rang out my destiny.
0
Nov 5, 2010
Nov 5, 2010 at 3:18 AM UTC
Femme Fatale
Come into my heart forever, horizontally and vertically to the greatest distances and heights. Come and be with me in every step and breath I take. Come and share all the toil and hardships of this mundane existence. Come and divide it all in pain with the occasional scent of heaven. Come, my love, into the womb of my future. Come, my love, come. Come and stay for infinity!
0
Oct 31, 2010
Oct 31, 2010 at 5:56 AM UTC
Come into my heart forever,
When I am as a rusty frame resting in the dump of it's own miserable present I can but hope to become dung for a new spring.
0
Oct 28, 2010
Oct 28, 2010 at 10:14 AM UTC
When I am as
With the ever increasing tempo of time sprinting forward, like a thoroughbred gone frantic down the course, the years of yesterday dress in both the most alluring colours and the most heart-rending sorrows.
0
Oct 27, 2010
Oct 27, 2010 at 6:57 PM UTC
With the ever increasing tempo
A girl up the way has entered puberty. One day she wears the most outlandish clothes and colours and the next black, gray or blue. Fond of protecting the little ones, in one breath, she stands separate from adults and everyone, in the next. Perhaps, she talks with classmates and girlfriends about the changes to her body as she throws fierce energy into gym and pursues intensely with pimples and glasses her various and numerous studies. Recently, she was halfway up the Everest of a lamp-post before her mother came out and roared her down.
0
Oct 19, 2010
Oct 19, 2010 at 7:46 PM UTC
A girl up the way
There is a woman, so kind and great of heart, who visits our church. From Eastern Europe she is tinier than even the smallest Piaf. When she sings in praise and adoration of her Creator, you can almost see the pillars tremble in harmony; as her voice totally and powerfully pervades the innermost depths of the entire congregation.
0
Oct 15, 2010
Oct 15, 2010 at 11:52 PM UTC
There is a woman,
The cue - the cue - the cue for a joyful entry Django on your radio lures him dancing through the door and your face plays and portrays brilliant colours with the laughter of a spirit being momentarily freed from the sadness of it's earthly shackles.
0
Oct 12, 2010
Oct 12, 2010 at 1:33 PM UTC
Django on your radio