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Jun 2019 · 175
Madeline Killeen Jun 2019
Artists capture moments.
They capture moments with patience, with perspective.
Artists capture moments in different ways.

A photographer will show you the beautiful butterfly,
resting on a flower.

The painter will show you what is out of frame,
a little girl staring in wonder.

And the poet will tell you how magical it was,
how the park quieted for a moment when the
butterfly flew and landed on her nose-

Then there it is - a photo, of pure joy.

Then all three artists, smiling in awe at this moment.
This small, precious moment.
One many would have missed.
But now is forever immortalized,
by observant souls.
Jun 2019 · 197
Madeline Killeen Jun 2019
I've been trying to draw lately,
and failing miserably.
Trying to capture someone,
with only a pencil.

I keep trying to draw him and
I am not sure why.
I have plenty of pictures.
But this is different,
not simply knowing what he looks like,
but remembering it, repeating it.
It could be useful one day,
to have him like that.

Perhaps we should all try drawing our loved ones.
To never forget the curves of their faces,
the dimples, the freckles.
The imperfections the camera blurs.
So we will forever have them with us,
in our hands.
Simply brought out, remembered,
by a pencil.
Oct 2018 · 763
Madeline Killeen Oct 2018
the universe
has gifted me
a patient soul
Oct 2018 · 143
Bubblegum pink
Madeline Killeen Oct 2018
is one of those colors that is so bright and happy,
yet there's an emptiness to it.
The kind of emptiness, only captured over time.
Time chips it away, as it does most things.
We are left with the hope of the past,
the faded walls or chipped nails of a color
that held so much in it, and lost it all
when we stopped looking.
Oct 2018 · 267
Madeline Killeen Oct 2018
I fear I am losing him,
to himself.

He is seeing all the things he wants to be.
I wonder when he'll realize,

that version of himself,
might not want me.
Oct 2018 · 138
Madeline Killeen Oct 2018
the best poems, are
the ones that feel like
a punch to the chest.

they leave you
stunned, for a moment.
Aug 2018 · 266
Dancing Souls
Madeline Killeen Aug 2018
I work with many elderly people and they all sing the same song.
“Honey, whatever you do, don’t get old.”
They usually say this when a seemingly simple task is too difficult.
Their bones all sing the same the song too.
A stiff tune, no rhythm, off key.
Every movement, an awkward note in a song no one wants to sing.
It makes me realize how little my body has lived, and how ungrateful I am.
On the days when I “can’t” get out of bed,
I inevitably end up swinging my legs over the edge,
And hopping up, greeting a day of possibility with grumpiness.
Oh what my friends would give for my bones,
The joints that move them, the muscles that carry.
My body is an upbeat, joyful song I rarely let anyone hear.
I feel as if my body is heavy with the weight of the future on my chest;
Theirs is heavy with the past on their back.
But how lucky are they to have lived such long lives,
Lives full enough that their body can’t recover.
And how lucky am I to have one before me…
And though they can’t hop out of bed,
I cannot count the number of times they’ve danced with me while I am holding them up.
Can you imagine? Loving life so much that you’re willing to risk extra aching and pain,
All for a second of pure joy.
Just for a second, of two perfectly imperfect melodies, harmonizing.
Just for a second, two young souls,
Aug 2018 · 180
my body is heavy
Madeline Killeen Aug 2018
The weight of everything I am not
sits on my chest every day.
The fear of falling tugs on my legs.

I am stagnant in this life,
and I am so stuck I cannot change it.
I am foolishly wishing for the
universe to notice me,
for a cosmic intervention.

Thinking that will give me purpose.
But I am so frozen,
staring in one direction,
I never look up.

Perhaps the stars are trying
to tell me something profound,
and I will never see.

And I think that is the heaviest,
and saddest burden to bear
of them all.
Jul 2018 · 165
Madeline Killeen Jul 2018
i love him in way
that let's me love myself,
and that is everything
Jul 2018 · 130
Madeline Killeen Jul 2018
loving him is like being among
the flowers and birds,
peaceful, natural
Jul 2018 · 134
Madeline Killeen Jul 2018
when i kiss him,
i lose my breath.

when i think of losing him,
it disappears again.

he always does that to me,
steals my oxygen.

but he always gives it back,
with every smile.
Jun 2018 · 145
Madeline Killeen Jun 2018
I am lost, and my maps
have turned to ash in my fingers.
I am wandering with no direction,
waiting for someone to tell me to stop.
Jun 2018 · 147
Madeline Killeen Jun 2018
I have never wanted someone the way I want you.
I want you in every form.
Give me all the pieces of yourself that you don't let others see.
Let me be the one you can trust with your heaviest burdens.
Give me all of you in the dark.
Let me be the one who unravels you,
please give me everything. I want it all.
And in return, all of me,
is yours.
Jun 2018 · 186
Late April in Massachusetts
Madeline Killeen Jun 2018
the birds are singing today,
so loud and beautiful as if to say
it is Spring remember, please
it is Spring

then the snow lands on my skin,
cold and wet, as if to say
I am still here, please
*don't forget me
Jun 2018 · 295
Madeline Killeen Jun 2018
Welcome, please come in
The entrance fee is one smile
After that, for every hour you stay
you owe me a laugh
This house runs on laughter

Be pure and joyful, please
stay as long as you'd like.
Jun 2018 · 114
Madeline Killeen Jun 2018
It is different with him, simpler.
He is just him and I am just me.
And we are just together.
There is no force.
It is refreshing.
Apr 2018 · 174
Madeline Killeen Apr 2018
When I asked him what he was thinking,
he said nothing.

He can do that apparently,
just sit there, relaxing.
His mind a calm sea.

I am always thinking.
I cannot stop.

Waves and waves of thoughts,
always attacking me.
I fear one day, I might drown.
Apr 2018 · 127
Madeline Killeen Apr 2018
Daisies everywhere.
In my ideal world,
There'd be daisies everywhere.
Springing from my feet,
Blooming on every corner,
Dancing on every windowsill.
Oh my darling Daisy,
Who could possibly
Forget to smile,
With you around.
Apr 2018 · 114
Madeline Killeen Apr 2018
The only objects
I have ever felt
true attachments to,
are my books.
They are so much
more than ink, paper, and leather.
When they are lost,
I lose a memory.
I lose who I was when I read that story.
Stay with me I know that sounds silly.
For example, I lost my copy of Twilight.
A trivial novel, maybe.
But when I lost that book,
I lot the 13 year old girl
who fantasized about her own
vampire romance. Or any romance.
And some might say good riddance
to those foolish fantasies.
But every now and then when
my mere mortal romances are too much,
I'd love to pick up  Twilight,
re-read and imagine my own vampire boyfriend,
sweeping me off my feet.
When I lose my books, I lose that opportunity
to escape.
If only for a little while.
Apr 2018 · 114
Madeline Killeen Apr 2018
What if we,
could love
while we sleep?

Meet in our
be a tangle
of limbs and bodies.

Then wake
the same way
in the morning.

Never missing a moment.
Apr 2018 · 119
Madeline Killeen Apr 2018
Do poet's ever
tire of writing
love poems?

Will we
ever tire
of reading them?
Apr 2018 · 109
Madeline Killeen Apr 2018
I wonder at what point
us ladies in our
many years of womanhood
stop saying,
boys are the worst
and start groaning
ugh, men, am I right?
Because even though
I  know the difference
between a boy
and a man,
I feel as if I will
always see myelf
as a foolish,
Mar 2018 · 131
Madeline Killeen Mar 2018
it's all I can
think about today

your lips,
on mine

your smile,
your hands,

you are all
I can think about

after last night,

I cannot wait
for more time.
Feb 2018 · 169
Madeline Killeen Feb 2018
I do not think home is a yellow house on a plain street.
I do not think home is the people in it either.
I do not think home is a town, or state, or country.
I do not think home is another person.
Home is not a building.
Home is not land.
Home is not them.
None of these things, are permanent.
Buildings fall,
Land dissapears,
People leave.
Home is not now, home is always.
Never leaving.
Home is a person. One person.
You. Yourself.
You are your own home.
Love it with everything you have.
Feb 2018 · 166
Madeline Killeen Feb 2018
he is a shadow of you,
I catch glimpses of you
in his words, his touch,
but he is not you,
you decided to leave
he wants to stay,
the only difference is
I would rather be
burned by the sun,
than safe in the shadows.
Jan 2018 · 145
at the thought of you
Madeline Killeen Jan 2018
I had to move
the tissues
closer to my bed

because I was
a dam that could
burst at any moment.

For weeks,
they were there
for me, close.

Today, I put
them back
on my desk

across the room.
It doesn't seem
like a feat,

but believe me,
it is.
I no longer cry. the thought of you
Madeline Killeen Jan 2018
Makeup is an art.
Confidence is life changing.
Friends can be cruel.
Unconditional love is real.
Music is food for the soul.
Dance is prayer for the body.
Age can be insignificant.
Breakfast dates create an unbreakable bond.
Movies are best in bed with cozy blankets.
Car rides are made for singing.
Love is messy.
Families fight.
Families forgive.
Forever friendship, exists.
Dec 2017 · 386
frozen smiles
Madeline Killeen Dec 2017
frozen smiles are our
own person shadows.
the sun is not necessary.

it is funny how we
smile without
genuine happiness.
force the muscles to
turn and in turn
hope we look lively.

and there is the shadow,
it is in the empty smile
there is no light there,
but, light is not the
only beauty.

i love photos
with no smiles.
the ones with fierce glares
or grieving eyes.
give me a scene with
real life, anger, sorrow.

i would rather see that,
feel that,
than be met
with emptiness.
Dec 2017 · 218
Madeline Killeen Dec 2017
you are the fruit on the table,
but I am the artist.
I take what you are, and
enhance. not just red no,
I give you white, green,
add the sun, the shadows,
the streaks. make the fruit,
more than itself.

you are the subject,
but honey I am the painter.
everyone knows,
a masterpiece,
never makes themselves.
Madeline Killeen Dec 2017
how can he not see
the narcissism of his tongue.
to think that if i ever,
poured my heart, my pain,
into a collection of
words, stories and poems
that if i ever
took the time,
to give myself like that,
it would be for him.
Nov 2017 · 147
Madeline Killeen Nov 2017
In my loneliness,
I almost called you.

But then I realized,
even when I had you,
I was still lonely.

And that says it all.
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