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Audrey Donegan Poem
I am not someone I’d ever want to meet
Storms rage in my head,
Ashes settle on my feet.
My sanity is bleeding,
My hairline slightly receding
My touch a wicked chill,
With a mangy heart and too weak a will
I am not someone I’d ever wish to hear
These eyes sweat screams
As I trudge this crooked line in fear.
I’ll never write “importance”
In a cleaver line or two
I’ll never be defined
As brilliant bold and true
I am not someone I’d ever wish to know
I’ve seen much too much hate
To have love for my foe.
Oh, Hiroshima of the mind
Break and bind me
Blow me up
Throw me up
Sum me up
And set me free
For I’m a tornado of petulance
A hurricane of grief
A tsunami of uncertainty
And there aint no relief.
I feel therefore I am…
…a widow of this world
And no one I’d ever hope to love.
Copyright © Audrey Donegan | Year Posted 2006
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Audrey Donegan Poem
Those sullen eyes still harvest yearning
To be near his breathe
To be in his sight
To be his distinction.
Copyright © Audrey Donegan | Year Posted 2006
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Audrey Donegan Poem
There’s poetry in your eyes,
bloodshot and bruised,
hunting like a vulture starved.
A God to those who find glory in grieving.
I’ve licked the poetry right off your lips,
hardened by time’s punch line,
cracked and weathered
by the screams you cannot bear to keep.
You are poetry’s loss
and I am you.
So let it seep from our pores
Let it mix in our tears
Let it shape the core of anyone wiling
Let it paint the night in hues of gold
Let it bind us in leather and make slaves of us all
Let it be fierce and wicked and cold and true
And let it shake our bones and swallow us whole
Let it be
Let it be
Just let it be.
And then maybe
Poetry will give us life
and set us free.
Copyright © Audrey Donegan | Year Posted 2006
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Audrey Donegan Poem
How crushing
the plung,
your weight collapsing my
kindergarden bones.
Your number one girl
six at best
learned love comes with a price
attached to a cock.
Invading me wholly
again
and
again
branding me with the
dis-ease of obligation.
What is love
if not the lust in your eyes?
Did I pea
and beg
and scratch
and gnaw
for you to stop?
Was my obedience dependable?
Now
at twenty-three
with eyes the age of time herself
I am begining to remember:
you are double fudge chocolate cake
and I am diabetic.
Copyright © Audrey Donegan | Year Posted 2006
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Audrey Donegan Poem
Your eyes’ ebony
An outline of tender submission
Shaded in the true hues of mindfulness
The color of resolve.
Copyright © Audrey Donegan | Year Posted 2006
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Audrey Donegan Poem
Your eyes’ half open gaze,
your morning scent and groggy touch,
the subtle vibrations in your waking speech
opposes the dawn’s crisp breeze,
warming me.
Your survivalist nature
wrestles for the blankets
while you hold your ground
and more of mine than I’d care to admit.
The extraordinarily ordinary,
well, maybe to some.
All these things I’ve discovered
all these things I’ve not spoken,
are not things at all.
They are a reason, a vitality to me.
A purpose to laugh and to sing
out of tune - out of key,
to sigh and to breathe
be it heavy or easily,
to live and to love
openly with wide eyes to see.
All these things are not things at all.
They are my vitality,
my reason,
my purpose to be.
Copyright © Audrey Donegan | Year Posted 2006
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