Drawing
All posts tagged Drawing
The Bone Singer
Published August 29, 2014 by rlmcdermottand in her
turning is
a turning
back to
the blue
lichen
and fleshy
moss dripping
from bare
trees where
wild gods sit
and play
songs on
white bone
she has
grown old
underneath
a silent moon
waiting for
something
that never
comes–
to be loved again
and as
her small
feet strike
stone a
note is
struck
on bone
white bone
that sings
of home–
a place she’s
never known 
The Lament Singers
Published August 19, 2014 by rlmcdermottIn a desert
of mecury
nations of
unkept women
rest like squat
beetles on
all fours–
listening with
ears buttoned
to the ground.
They can
hear voices
echoing in
their heads,
whispering
of immolation,
hearts buring
in the afternoon,
birds soaring
in the sky.
There is no
comfort in
the keening
breeze, what
was blue
has turned
to red, falling
bombs have
gleaned their
husband’s bones
and left their
children dead.
World Tour
Published July 23, 2014 by rlmcdermott
Prometheus Regrets The Fire
Published July 3, 2014 by rlmcdermottFire comes
on a cold
winter night;
it enters
without
knocking.
What is
burning
here are
sleeping
children–
Is this ash
my child–
the one
I never
held but
dreamed?
Because
I could
not love
I loved
too much–
all things
are dreams
for dreamers.
Mining On The Moon
Published June 16, 2014 by rlmcdermott
DMZ
Published May 29, 2014 by rlmcdermottThe red-crowned
crane dances
between barbed-wire–
many ghosts
are waiting
to be set free.
Fly to them;
the ones who
never lied.
Neither moon
or sun but
steady in the sky–
love comes not
as you want
but as it will.
The Kiss
Published May 15, 2014 by rlmcdermottWho’ll sing
my song
when I
am gone?
Who’ll paint
the sky?
I live
for love
who can’t
be loved–it
is my fate.
I am root
and I am
flower–soon
will be my
bitter hour.
A knife,
a rope,
the wind,
the sea,
these are
the things
that call
to me.
You stand up
and I fall down;
I dance for you
who cannot see.
Is love
what I am
all about–
I sell my soul
and I sell out?
A pair of eyes,
a wisp of hair
and I am lost
and I am there.
Wars are wars,
countries fall,
children die and
I am born.
Again and always,
I return to find you gone;
there must be something
more than this–someway
to end this bitter kiss.
Hide’s Sakura (Final Version)
Published May 13, 2014 by rlmcdermott
Headlines
Published May 13, 2014 by rlmcdermottHow did
this happen;
dead beneath
the headlines–
blue metal,
blue bird,
blue child?
Imagine
the moment,
the sharp
slap of air,
the ferocious
snap of wing,
and then
the still
and certain fall.
And you,
the child,
all breakable
bone; your
arm twisted
until it spiraled
out of its socket,
and like the
bird fell
down.
On a cold Sunday,
inside a newspaper,
beside a metal dumpster
two things dead–
a bird and a child.
rlmcdermott 