It’s the year of you and don’t you forget.
Where happiness sits at the top of the list; but
smiles are reserved for those who deserve
the gems of your affection, shining so bright.

You’ll embrace those that enrich your existence.
The guardian angels and mad hatters, who
make your soul tap dance to the music of the mighty,
whilst unleashing a belly laugh like no other.

You’re a working woman who’s a work in progress.
Learning the art of adulthood
whilst darting in and out of Neverland,
a commute full of surprises.

You’ll see the light, or maybe just sense.
Realising that grades don’t measure success,
those pointless paper squiggles have nothing
on you.

It’s the year of you and you should be excited.
Because great things lie ahead for the
dreamers with a passion, so open your eyes
and get ready.

© Sarah Mullaney

In this way it begins
With waiting
Grey light and white time -  blank, uniform.

In this way it begins
Passive, at two in the morning
Not quite nausea; not quite discomfort

Inexorably awake awake awake

I can’t write my way out of this.

and all the pain you felt when it was over
made you realize that
god was dead, and
hell was real,
so why bother anymore?
you taught yourself
how to feel nothing at all,
and thats when you discovered
that it was easier to exist
when reality was altered,
and your hands didnt shake so much
when you were holding onto a lighter
for dear life.
and jesus christ you wanted
to light yourself on fire,
just to feel something
other than this sadness,
but you're a coward,
so you settled for your
fifth cigarette in 3 hours

A sheet of white satin
Half covers her curves
Her back is exposed
And my passion stirs

The rising sun’s rays
Set her contours aglow
She’s sleeping half naked
And my urges grow

The arc of her back
Exposes her spine
Each dimple and ridge
Make her look divine

Her arm, raised above her
Entangled in hair
Displaying a breast
At her ******, I stare

This sheet of white satin
Clings to hip and to cheek
Beneath it the treasure
That I must now seek

She’s just laying there
Asleep, so sublime
My temperature’s rising
I hope she’ll be mine

The rise of her hip
Its treasure below
I’m burning inside
Its pleasures to know

That sheet of white satin
Drapes just her backside
I must get closer
So towards her I slide

I stretch out my arm
Such a tentative reach
So sad an attempt
To, that white satin breach

I entice the white satin
To slip from her cheek
Exposing her buttock
It’s the crevice I seek

I sense she is stirring
I’m frozen with fear
Close my eyes tight
So asleep to appear

When I open my eyes
Not a thing in my bed
Just a sheet of white satin
It was all in my head
BOEMS BY JA 442

Walking in tranquil meadows an exotic aroma awakens my soul.

And from where could this intoxicating scent evolve?

It's then I see climbing a massive sycamore tree.

A vine sprouting Jasmine inviting Heaven's reach.

Gazing in awe life's now possible to resolve.

.

Spun in a windstorm of caustic insisting
Plastered like mud on the walls of Pompeii
Frescos of joy before charcoal was misting
Writing in ash, catastrophic display

Poetic spittle once cast to the broken
Scribbled in diction now smeared in the rain
So many follow yet nothing is spoken
Below these skies with the cherry red stain

There in the distance a magpie is flying
Scavenging wings while you shout from the ground
Above a truth midst the unending lying
Circling nightmares of places you’re bound

Can it be art if it’s not as remembered
Past of the days when you ****** in the snow
Spelling your name as your mother was watching
Turning in shame as if she didn’t know

Damning Picasso for changing direction
How can a nose sit so far from the face
*******’s spilled paint way beyond your detection
Charging a gallery, demanding your space

Photo laced albums of cellophane pages
Developed by hand in a room with no light
Look at these kids and their digital stages
Feigning creative, it just isn’t right

Does this explain every tactical action
While you count blocks as if streets don’t exist
Pulling a woodpecker’s tail to get traction
Hiding the reason you just can’t resist

You say that art can be all that we’re thinking
Then in the same breath you say it’s not true
Often we wonder if you have been drinking
Make up your mind, it’s the least you can do

You are all artists, yes you who are reading
Writing your words that you put on display
Spilling your heart while emotions are bleeding
It breaks my heart when I hear someone say

It can’t be art, all those losers are dreaming
Seeing and clicking and sending and such
Downloaded images, videos streaming
When the truth is, you are just out of touch

I used to go to the Bryce Hospital cemetery
at night and sit on a tombstone overlooking the Black Warrior River .
I used to talk to the dead but I gave it up after none of them answered back .
Still I was at ease there in the dark amongst their remains . I had no fears , no worries , no thought of tomorrow . Just a gentle touch of acceptance . I guess you could call it peace .

I thought I was in love once
But I was just the gum upon his shoe
I let him stomp all over me
While I stuck to him like glue

He told me that he loved me
Which is why in my impressionable youth
I thought "this must be the real deal"
I thought he spoke the truth

The next time someone confessed their love
I couldn't bring myself to believe
That someone could ever care for me
I thought surely they would leave

So I pushed them away, && they did just that
They left me in a hurry
By this point I was too damaged to see
That deep down I was worthy

You see once a person is broken down
Their heart can never go back
The pieces may stick back together again
But if you look, you can still see the crack

***** sun beats down-
On bikini beach blossoms.
Igniting moment.

.

Driving by,
lost on a side street
directly in the middle
of where I never wanted to be

Clamoring at the expectations
strewn along the curb
between the broken dishwasher
and empty beer cans

Where neighborhood gnomes
painted gaily colors
wave as if they know me,
but I ignore them – sort of

There is one though
with a hollow bookish smile
that seems familiar
or is it the tulips

A wooden staircase,
worn planks in a grey stain
lead to an entrance where an ornate
metal light fixture sways in the breeze

Your porch used to look like that
but this door is standing open
behind a welcome mat with a clover,
wish I hadn’t lost that rabbit’s foot

Maybe I am lucky after all,
just found a spot with ten minutes
remaining on the meter, forget it,
it took me fifteen minutes to park

The empty passenger seat
still holds your form,
at least I can see it -
Corinthian leather never forgets

A speed bump at 40 mph
rattles me back behind the wheel
when I see the bank clock flashes 5:00 pm,
still offering a free toaster

And that’s it, another Sunday afternoon
wasted as much as I am,
spinning my wheels
with just enough gas to get back home,

alone

You grind my hips
You tasted my lips
You held me so hard
I could barely breathe
Hell like heaven  
Not magic nor spell you did
But I was enchanted
Then you asked me how I felt?

Grabbing me by your arms
Love, into my body you filled
Till I was bewitched
Till nothing was left
Wine you were,
You made me addict
You loved me so hard
That into my heart
Your name was sealed.
With your smile
All my scars you healed
And then you left
Like nothing happened.