The agonizing vibration in my heart speaks with a silent note,
Much like the wind at night
Wheezing past my window pane.
"You are well and truly alone"
It hisses. Repeatedly.

I mean, I know I am alone and all
But never like this!
This is beyond solitude!
Beyond lonely!
This is deserving of a single word!
A single letter!;

            I
....
So it is,
In time immemorial--
Sited here is a poetic mind--
a mortal soul like yours.

Do remember
the silence...      and
        
            I

...

Because there is nothing
worth the saying


talk-- talk


nearly everyone that talks--


Talks. About. Nothing

I do not wish to be
an emerald, pressed firmly against
the flesh of someone else's finger,
to be marveled upon by eyes
that only see beauty disguised beneath layers
of self-inflicted ignorance.
I do not wish for a life
sitting gracefully upon its pedestal,
or a striking face behind a glass display
that has never tasted the sweat
of reality.
I refuse to pass days behind
white picket fences trapping me
from seeking out scarlet horizons
or to live by the shout
of a clock that is running out of words
to tell me that I mean
nothing.
I am not going to sit, confined within
the peeling floral paper
that embraces the same walls that suffocate me
nor will I let my heart sleep
within the cavern walls of a chest
that is starving to set it free.

I want to crawl towards comfort
with scraped knees that do not bleed apologies
and earth trapped underneath my fingernails
like a joke no one ever broke silence to laugh at
I want to harvest gratification
with these same hands that have taught themselves
how to let go of the ones
who have tried to set it on a silver plate
for me to eat.

I desire to be dizzy
on the last day I will ever grace the air
with my breath,
blinded by joy I had spent a lifetime pursuing
with shadows cast beneath these hungry eyes
that have realized--

that it takes a revolution
to be able to say that I did more
than just exist,
I conquered.

she beckoned me forth like a
gladiator
trained for speed, not power

her calculating eyes timed my feet
for its overdue fall
dagger at the ready
anticipating my fall

I took her bait

not

I threw away my shield
and shuffled aside

It was never
that serious a game

for me at least.

Though your day is dark and troubling
Though your hours are filled with fear
Walk boldly into the fire
Always remember I am here

-Brian Patrick O'Connor SR.- 2016

Tell me you don't want me

So I'll leave and never bother you again

...

I've grown tired of your games.

This is a curse on the heartbreakers
that left us stranded in the island of
Hope-and-Love, paddling away,
unnoticed, in the dead of night, on
the only boat we sailed to the
mystery-filled lands

This is an apology to the hearts we've
broken in our self deluded attempt at
avoiding heartache by fading
gradually away like the sun when it
sets beyond the horizon lines

This is a thank-you note to Time, for
the penniless healing it affords, and
the scholarly teachings it imprints--  
never once failing us since we began
to exist, and

This is a lamentation for scattered
scars, for dispersed pain, for
heartbroken hearts, for dead or dying
dreams-- we are like souls living on
a battlefield strewn with mines
...

This is a goodnight song of hope to
carry us to tomorrow,

This is ink for our pens
...

This is for me, and

This is for you