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 Mar 2019 Roisin
Sitting in a cafe
sipping coffee eating eggs
Tiny leaves poke through

Loving and spending time with my son jake and loving spring time too xxxx
 Mar 2019 Roisin

little girl gets angry
hits a boy at school
sent home by the principle
'cos she broke the rules
this was most unfortunate
with liquor on his breath
her father pulled his belt out
and beat her half to death

none of us have halos
none of us have wings
none of us are "there" yet
as the choir sings
our minds are set on stupid
we think of earthly things
no, none of us have halos
none of us have wings

Johnny, feeling hurt inside,
takes his tournequet
pours his lady snow out
to fix himself a hit
he didn't know how strong it was
that it could do him harm
he dies in a public bathroom
with a needle in his arm


dad has had a kind of lapse
he had an affair
mom just up and left him
divorced him then and there
now his little girl has bruises
'cos of liquor in his head
due to a wife who left him
his son, Johnny, is dead

have you graduated?
with a high degree
in personal perfection?
if not, then let it be
I don't claim to be flying
as my transgression clings
'cos none of have halos

none of us have wings

(C) 9/12/2017
As some may know I'm in a bit of a tussle. I don't hold my detractor ill-will. I'd just like to make the obvious statement.


I'm willing to let bygones be bygones.
I was wrong in some respects, too.

I apologize for not reading much. I'm actually studying some scripture, so I'm limited as to what I read.

I'll be back reading soon.

♡L♡O♡V♡E  Y♡O♡U  A♡L♡L♡
 Mar 2019 Roisin
He came to me one night
when I was cold and alone,
I was halfway through with it,
an inch from the bone.
He whispered so gently
as he laid me down on the bed,
"what aspect of life
put these thoughts in your head?"

"I don't breathe like I used to,"
I told him, as his image blurred,
"I ask for their help
but they don't say a word."
His vice like fingers
clamped onto my wrist,
"Not on this night, child.
You don't die like this."

Before I could figure out
what I thought he meant,
he opened his mouth,
"my dear, be patient.
For life is a hurdle
in the relay of death,
your time on this earth
is not over yet.

"When you reach the finish
then I'll come for you,
but until that moment,
here's what you'll do;
each problem that throws
itself in your sight,
promise me you won't
give up with no fight.

"The days when you
think you're over and done,
just look in the mirror,
you've already won.
Because you made it this far
through so many years,
you've conquered your demons
and outweighed your fears.

"The pills in the bottle
can wait a while longer,
because with each passing day
you've gotten much stronger.
I don't offer my help
to little girls who suffer,
I'll be breaking the hearts
of the ones that love her.

"Do you see now, child,
what I'm saying to you?
Your time is not up,
your life will ensue."
I bit down on my lip,
and nodded my head,
and just like that,
he disappeared from my bed.

That was the time,
that Death saved my life,
so if you ever want to end it,
just remember his advice.
Don't think of the pain,
and how it'll end soon,
because Death talks a lot,
when he enters your room.

 Mar 2019 Roisin
maybella snow
I'm trying to find someone
who knows about the
cracks and defects
of my heart and mind
and want them to gather
the pieces of
broken glass
so they can heat it
and recreate it
as their own
 Aug 2017 Roisin
Antino Art
Some people climb social media mountain
and post photo of them on top for all to see.

I just be chilling phone-off on third floor
apartment porch,
walking down staircase to ground level
down sidewalk
beneath stone high rise, winter sky,
gas station coffee in hand, face buried in non-face book
about those sleepless mountain climbers above.

I cross street as they tread slopes like high wire walkers,
and I'm walking onto this train as they make tracks,
breathing in the Views gained from the heights
to which they've climbed as I yawn
on subway car underground and recline
unseen beneath hoodie,
them racing to the top
and me coasting south, still in book,
flipping non-web page to next chapter
of them turning to look down at the crowds below
and the tracks they made
as if imprinting their story in the blank pages of the snow.

My stop arrives,
so I tuck away book unfinished in backpack
while they hike onward up Facebook wall
and continue stamping marks on snowy phone screen in darkness,
as I brush past them on street level thru city night unnoticed,
and their eyes squint back in pursuit of the likes of me and the gazes of strangers the morning they return from king of hill conquest, welcomed by followers of their stories waiting to be liked and loved.

The likes of me walk on back up to third floor apartment,
book shelved,
dreams of mountains blurred in the chill
of morning fog on the window,
in the freeze of internet page on the. screen.
 Aug 2017 Roisin
The swell of your feverish hands over mine.
Sweat soaking into my skin.
I’m clutching every part of you I can grasp,
Every part of you I can fit into my palm.

We’re sitting beneath the hollow tree,
Beneath the ocean of a sky,
Beneath the screaming black-billed cuckoos.

We don't say a word because we don't need to;
Just silent prayers burned between us,
Scarred into pale, malnourished bones.

I look at you as your sloe-eyed gaze
bores into the mountains of clouds swimming above us.

I want to kiss you,
But all I can do is lay my head on your shoulder,
Wishing I could build a home out of your collarbones.

I don't ever feel safe anymore.

Except when I’m forgetting everything, with you.

At dusk,
I tried to unlearn the way the gold in your skin,
Possessed your face in scintillant rays of spots.

I could count each one if I had the time,
But you’re already turning your spine stuffing back away from me,
And skipping back home

Without the bother or concern to look back.
I'm quite sad
 Aug 2017 Roisin
Left Foot Poet
for Tascha

deep in the pond of unhappy, swimming,
drowning the next contemporaneous
depression thought quickly swallowed,
desperation in quick glances everywhere,
dawn is no consolation but just another
daily drawing tighter of twine cutting

dear god, commences every thought,
delayed answers have yet to arrive,
**** the deity's non-responsivness,
dare not say out loud lest,
deserved fates be worse, be realized,
didn't know? how can that be?
disguiser par excellent, I am the original

But I never think about

death or dying, for that would be
defeat finale, a statute to, a status of none, a
destiny some wick spark, still insists can be

differed always,
diffidently, but grasping yet at the
double entendre that is my
dark vision of a future already past

May 2015
may 2015, back when I could write...
 Aug 2017 Roisin
Lady Ravenhill
Is the way
You fill me
In ways
I didn't know
I was
 Aug 2017 Roisin
 Aug 2017 Roisin
I read some old poems today
And I remembered you
I recall that letting things slip away
Was something I thought I'd never make it through

I read some old poems today
And I remembered us
I realized I couldn't let you stay
Things were so bitter, we didn't even desire lust

I read some old poems today
And I remembered you
Then I had the epiphany
That I had actually forgotten you
 Aug 2017 Roisin
Kyle Dedalus
i fall in love
every month or two
i never turn down
a fresh heart
to consume

it's not enough to have your love
you have to have my pain
because love is fickle
one day it will fade
but you'll still have my sorrow
happily long
forever after
I forget your name
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