Mo Duinne's poetry Page

Haunted

I lean into the night,
scenting your presence on the
gentle wind.
as i hunt.
My warm belly to the rich
ground-
I crouch-
limbs taunt-
nostrils quiver-
with the scent of you-
hunted.

Untitled

songs sung blue...
and it goes on and on
those are the songs i remember
from childhood
i am never able to sing the rest

i remember what happens at night
what happens under the covers
i remember what i was told to forget
and it scares me

hi-ho- cheerio and chutes and ladders
these are games i wanted to play
instead you taught me...
about touches and tastes
you showed me how to please you...
how to please others..
but not myself.
its the pain i remember most..
of large things in small places
of ows and hurts...
of tears and blood.

my games were to be played with you
to be shared with your friends...
i did learn to share...
why wasn't that enough?

Untitled

we wander through the mountains together
we search them for understanding
for truth...
for love...
for hope....
when we walk out of the clearing
we see the hunger
the raw emotion
and the anger mixed with your lust
for the young innocent blood that courses
through our veins.
we look at you in fear and in awe-
as your hands begin to dance
flittering over our body like a
thousand tiny moths....
leaving us flushed and dirty.
we move back and you move forward
and the dance has once again begun...
we run, but, not fast enough
we cry, but, not loud enough
we perish, but, not slow enough....
the new ones are created
and when their creation is done
you, come again and again
soon, we will out-number you...
and soon we will be free
from your love and lust.

The Gods Awaken

Spider webs of incandescent light beams
down on an over-ripe world of dreams
which inhabits the minds of gods and seems
to take on life and breathe...
Only to fade discreetly away
Like shadows at the flowing
Encroachment of day-
The gods awaken.

Mo Duinne

Wolf Song

i can listen to you howl at the moon
the wolf song deep in my mind..
but you won't let me help you...
blaming me for my short-comings, my insecurities..

i want to flee this land....
run from it before it burns me
but its too late.
the scars have been opened.

my heart is torn....
like the deepest blood moon
and as watch the moon in the sky...
i add to its richness...

like the life's blood dripping from my body
Adds its own life to that which has been taken from you
my apology will make no difference in your state
this i am aware of..

i would give my life for your own...
take any pain you may feel
to keep you....

but, alas, i feel it has come to late
you have howled your last howl...
and i feel.. so have i.

Untitled

I see the tears fall
On your picture
So clear but full of sorrow
why not sorrow color my tears?
They'd be black rain coming down
Black rain coming down.

My voice cries out but there's nosound
Small cry of despair only I can hear
Echoes of the storm
Rain Falling in my head
Black rain coming down...
Black rain coming down.

Let me sleep and never dream
Your face that haunts the night
The rain falls in the darkness
I'm walking in the shadows
No light,
no sound but the rain
Let me sleep and never wake
Black, black rain is coming down

Mo Duinne

Voyeurs

Their tongues, hands, hips thrust
Our heads beg to run-away the eyes
are trapped in Technicolor prisons, as
our moist, open mouths let escape half a nervous
giggle that floats to freedom,
Stale.
Words drip feigned disgust.
You begin to shuffle your feet
on the carpet.
The brushing, scratching rises to
a ringing echo in our cell.
My eyes reach for yours- a second
of electric contact then we are
snapped back, helpless,
By photographic chains.
Magnetic sweat beads gather on their
damp surface flesh,
Some rubbed dry by exploring
palms.
The wet, salt-air presses.
We breath in silent gasps.
I close my eyes to break the chains.
We are free-
and alone.

Screams

it no longer hurts-
your words,
your looks,
your touch...
i am past all that
i am beyond the pettiness
beyond the lies-
i welcome your opinions
i beg for the violence
i worship you
the blood, you bring from my flesh
the bruises that appear on my skin...
you scream that you love me-
that you hate me-
that i make you sick.
and i cower in fear-
running away-
but i always come back
for your anger
for your love...
for, all this, makes me real

Mo Duinne

Carnival

The joy of Death is a private thing-
So you close your eyes
and the black wall of faces
leers back at you,
toothless and old.
But open them,
see the city, blazing,
bounce off the oily river.
See the ferris wheel,
playing no music it leaves those
at the top spinning in silence.
See the fat lady,
knees hidden by swollen thighs,
drop tears into the stardust.
Gripping the greasy metal rail
Suspended for a gray instant in space,
A damp breeze carries the smell
of vinegar, of unwashed hair,
of too much sugar.
Bile, copper and salt
touches the back of your throat,
and you swallow hard before you drop.
The rushing wind of the roller coaster
tears strips of sound from the nights:
"Three throw for a dollar mister, and
your wife throws for free!"
(where would you hang a black-velvet painting
of jesus, walking on the waves,
unafraid of Death or god?)
Hear the cracked strains of and
off-key country band playing
"glory hallelujah."
Hear the drunk in the next stall
heaving beer and polish sausage.
After the spotlights, the flashlights,
the neon, flourescent, and headlights.
The moonlight pours subtle and cool
across burned eyes.
Lying under sweat tangled sheets-
darkness, stillness, quiet settles blank
and heavy- but still you spin.
the sea of black faces grins
toothless and old,
So close your eyes-

Mo Duinne's Oiche Leabber

Magenta Breakdown

magenta
purple
red
categorization
fushia categorization
stereotypes
dolby sound
lavender charismatic individuals
thistle fields of morning blue
mourning hue.

magenta
purple
red
together
i have fled
lilac
lily
led
heather, i am dead.

Mo Duinne's Oiche Leabber

Mother

Mother,
I went to find you this morning
but you weren't around.
I wanted to tell you about my life
the happiness at achievement.

Mother,
I wanted to tell you about the man
I met. About his smile...
About his love for me.
But you weren't here.

Mother,
I wanted to share something with you
to tell you of marriage.
To ask you questions about life.
But you aren't here.

Mother,
I wanted to tell you that I am sorry
that I wasn't a better daughter.
That I couldnt....
but you aren't around.

Mother,
I wanted to tell you that I love you.
That I wish you were here to share with
but I couldnt.

Mommy....
I wish you hadn't died...
I wish you were here now.
I wish I didn't feel so alone.
I love you.

April 11th, 1999
1124pm

Mo Duinne

Untitled

you look at me strangely
starring at my arm,
watching the blood flow
and you wonder why?

you, rape me with your actions
you, rape me with your words
you, rape me with your look
you... rape me.

causing pain and misunderstanding
helplessness and worry
confusion and hurt.

i bleed from everywhere
both inflicted and caused by your
own actions

i can tell no one
no one will understand
its a misdirection to you
a cause for a flashback

its a dream i never wake from

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