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I have always been quite fond of the rose
That flower sweet by any other name
That one sweet to both the eyes and the nose
That can grow to be so wild or tame
Maybe I am a bit biased in this
For my middle name is shared with the bloom
If it went, in romance it would be missed
It adds beauty to gardens and all rooms
And like my namesake, I have pastel lips
Thorns to fight with, and nice little round hips
Soaring away, what could I provide
Do you not perceive
Of my dying inside
Are you so naive
To believe I'm alive
Or that skeleton keys
Could unlock what I hide

In the cellars of cold,
Dark, abysses bereft
Of the soul I have sold
For recompense left
To steal my heart gold
In a present-tense theft
Of the treasures I hold

In troves now discarded
By knightly assails
Of princesses guarded
Beneath my chain mails
In armor regarded
As legendary scales
Of dragons bombarded

By dreadnought regret
In a galleon remorse
Oceanic lament
On my rocking seahorse
Capsizing I've sent
Myself drifting off course
Until I can forget

The lies I have tasted
Seduced by desire
The lives I have wasted
Consumed by the ire
Until I embraced it
My funeral pyre
Reborn to melt faces

With phoenix sun fire
The little child in me has grown
The childish aspiration ,silly dreams  all gone
All you can see when you see me now is frown .

As I tried reviving that child in me
Back to become the person who I used to be .

Many attempts ,
Failed to turn me as innocent
My thoughts are not the same , my heart is different

The  little  child  was  blind  to  the outside world I have seen
And the child could not survive how I was living

As the days passed
The child died , leaving me to mourn
And now I feel forever alone
Time has bled in buckets for you, fool
It’s structured as a self- defeating, self- depleting, tool…
But you know down deep inside, within your cone,
You're born awailing loud…then croak alone.
So plunder each very day as ego burns
Don’t labour reasons why, the poor returns?
Best laugh aloud at what your face perceives
To weep if disappointment, then deceives.
Dance like one possessed when touched with joy
Or die a million deaths, should love destroy.
Sink or swim, stagger to the end
To never once believe…you comprehend.

M.
City Edge Alliance
HAMILTON
8 March 2017
The first space station, is still drifting,
—A momentary bli[m]p— ballooning in the sky.
Decaying a quarter million miles away.
Abandoned, by a mass grave of contemporary considerations.

Decompartmentalised planetarised
Offtheearth language
Mangled by sayable’s forlorn hopes
Overthinking imaginary realities
A penchant for secrecy eclipsed by lunar lunacy  
Manifestations of new property in the dark galaxy
However empty it may seem.

Reaching out to its inevitable end,
But instead finding
A hysterical edge of humanity.
-- Rightly or falsely --
Listen for understanding and you can still hear

Modern mans mind in search of its own meaning.
I'm into psychedelics and long night of, elapsed time
spent reading poetry, written by obscure personas
attempting to find solidarity
the cosmoroma of life makes me spin
-- is it really 4 a.m again
maybe the third dose of emotions
Are causing my unnatural adderall implosions.

Iv done this before and ill do it again  
Stay up all night and indulge
The war in my mind between who i am and want to be.
Ambitious zeal
A thirst for passions
artistic creation
A fear of not being what i want  
decomposition on the Hawaiian Island
Lose of whits somewhere past the horizon.
island fever
 Feb 2017 Terry O'Leary
Ma Cherie
Even the smallest of tree,
has an incredible,
and beautiful,
story,
of how it came to be.

Ma Cherie  © 2017
Think about it?
For Steven I love you  ❤❤❤
 Feb 2017 Terry O'Leary
ryn
Wake
 Feb 2017 Terry O'Leary
ryn
The hike up the steep grassy knoll was arduous.
My legs had laboured for the heart that yearns.
The peak had called with a chorus of promise;
The lyrics sung of vantage and foresight
and of clarity that burns.

The summit now conquered...
Strained eyes blinked away the sting from
trickling rivulets of sweat.
I was perched atop a boulder anticipating a view
which I had expected different but inadvertently get.

The sun was kind and air was sweet.
I tried to see as hard as my lungs had fought...
But my eyes couldn't puncture the shroud
of fog and mist
that lingered over the future I had sought.

Attention brought back to where I had trudged.
I can't move forward without looking back...
At the path through which I had decided to pass.
Gasping at the result of conscious footfalls and clumsy missteps.
I can't help but regret and weep
over the wake of the devastation,
my reckless feet had made apparent in the grass.
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