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“We could never see tomorrow
No one said a word about the sorrow
The Bee Gees

a simple rhyme, a plaint familiar,
for those who have never stared
down train tracks, which is a lesson
in recognizing
the uncertainties of
living,
even if linearly visualized,
t h e o r e t i c a l l y

can veer to destinations unknown,
worthy of being dreaded, thinking
what are the odds today is the last,
and maybe now and then, not just
dismissing,them so easily

but it always brings on pain old
and familiar, recollecting of the
way life never asks you first, the

swiftness of two life lines colliding
with the
s u d d e n e s s
unfathomable
of 2 locomotives crashing,
head on
and leaving behind
a desolation breathtaking

it is a well lit winter morning,
cold light, but the direct sun
leaves a general okayness,
and you trudge along,
head bent, respecting the chilling,
calculating the distance to
the warmth of a planned
destination,
but here I remind
all of us:

”No one said a word
about the sorrow

Dec ‘24
He eats at my soul with a lover's slow hand,

Each bite a hymn, each wound carefully planned.

His silence, a gospel, his shadow a prayer,

I light every candle, but he's always there.

A feast in the dark where no one can stand.
I woke to find
Everything packed away—
Carpets rolled up,
Bare floorboards
Revealed for the first time.

No one around,
My footsteps made
A strange
Sound

Then Gran came in.
"Your mummy and daddy
Aren't getting along."
This truth,
I learned too late,
Kept from me
Until this morning.

A day my mind
Will never forget,
A secret now
Unfolded.

We traveled to the new town,
My face
Wore
A
Frown.

The door slammed shut
Too quickly,
A bad case
Of homesickness.
What was severed
Now crystallized.

Now,
I never fail
To remember
Every
Detail.
fat red berries cling,
snow breathes white upon their glow,
winter's quiet fire.
He is not right for me
but i´ll bathe in his toxic waste
for now
 Dec 2024 William J Donovan
Liana
Words are flowing out
Like an endless rainbow of sorrows
Coming right out of my heart

The red of blood
The pain
The guilt

The green of grass
Trees
And my eyes

The blue of the sky in daylight
The ocean
My heart

And all the rest
Of the beautiful and sad colors
Bleeding out of my pen too
Been in my drafts for a bit, I think I'll post it now...


(This poem was written by the brush that painted your soul on)
 Dec 2024 William J Donovan
Liana
I love
When I make people laugh
And when they feel comfortable enough to cry
To share theirs thoughts out loud
So I can too can be mad
And express how much I don't want them to die
I feel so honored when I get to be that person for someone. Unfortunately, I'm not ready for any in person human I know to be that for me.

(This note was written by triple A batteries that grew horns)
~ following “A Simple Poem”~ (1)

But of course, we reference revelations,
for our brief self-description are guises,
meant to hide, meant to impress, reveal
little, enhance our mystery, preserve our
secrecy. expose and hide simultaneously
within our mid-of-night aura mystiques

Safe behind the curtain, we wizards speak
in voices and tongues, giving up our innermost everything in verse, write of our blessings and our curses, holding  little back while we give ourselves away, hint by hinting, writ by writing, a series of
+++++++’s

I choose, I chose, to dress my chess pieces
in a clear varnish, **** the consequences,
sail towards the torpedoes, heading direct
to meet your eyes, giving up my forest
tree by tree, poem by poem, a leaf and
a branch, only tinkering and fussing like a new parent over each new virtual birthing,

and then once tidied,
once spent,
my secrets unconcealed,
we wonder quick if each
puzzle when connected
to its predecessor is 
understood
as a tiny pointilisme dot,
a speck
and that you are wise enough to
comprehend how each speck,  
lives only unique in its
conjunction,
only tandem-with both the one
nearest and the ones dabbed a decade
long ago, and when you connect  
my dots, I stand before you completely
a full and a naked folio,
one book of a single reveal,
the sum of my totality,
an addition of many integers,  
summing up to 1

So,

should we pass by each other,
our eyes will pierce, each wrinkle,
solving the equation of who we are…
a single human, readily identifiable,
total recognition, via the reconnaissance
of our letterered footsteps
(1) https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4917327/a-simple-poem/


12:50am
Nov. 20
in the year twenty twenty four
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