the sun did set o’er the hills –laid down in Fall, in leaves of gold, and though my home, was pining still, for westward was longing to changethe choices i had made beforewhile eastward i was on my way:the choice to see my love once more. a companion poem2025
Author Archives: Shannon O'Neill
she studied musicpaintingfashiondramatheatre.cant believe it,went to school,she was an art major she’s gone to school for English,she’s trying to write a book(oh it’s even worse – it’s poetry)(poetry, jesus christ) but what do i care for work?when youre on stage there’sno such thing as money.can’t convince me in the studio, there’s time;behind the pen what …
my light fell upon a woman dreaming —well into the morning, my light had lit the worldfor many hours seeming; yet not she wakes for me —the Night was her lover. no beautiful paintingscould i make for her, no sunrise gentle, pastel green —she loved the gold and purple screen precedingher Nighttime’s coming. my warm …
The swirling depths dredged fromTheir dark and secret homes,Deep ocean currents wrest up fromAbyssal planes, places unknown,And that the Moon holds so much power,As it drags unwilling tides, Then why not my own body?For water, why not mine? 2024
how deep my desire,how lov’ed the silence:the waking of birds whenthe morning is quiet; the brush of the fountain;how playful the breeze!that slips through the rushes,the reeds and the trees; the laugh of the candle,the whisper of fire,the merry that lingerson family awhile; the hush of the darkness,profoundly at ease.but i have tinnitus, and my …
God in Heaven, sat on high, beheld the Earth with watchful eye, the carpenters were at their trade; the flock and shepherd slept in shade; the merchants at their wicked wiles (though not ideal, freewill abides); He watch’d please’d o’er Gaia shown; Jesus, fair Son, approached the Throne, and Jove astonish’d swept around, that Elysian …
No matter which performance,forged in collective memory,in parchment, iron, goldin marble,clay – or stone,a shape’d human form,a vision of the inner eye,the desires of the heart,and no limits to the image ofthe passion of the soul,and any shape to fashion high,exalt the workof learned hand, of practice old. As perfect as the running stream,and water …
forgive me what i said when i was mourning.the gap was left i tried to fill what what i had:my Words — and any words will do when you are hurting,and any sounds to try to stay the unforgiving world — Oh, Lord,!if you are there and you are listening,i forgave to soon and left …
an préachán once upon a midnight dreary – fadó sin a thiteadh oíche,agus mé lagmhachnamh ar le cuma tuirse orm,leabhar saíocht, seanchas, scéalaíocht agam bhaint thaitneamhasam ach corr-codlaím thainig gasta nuair a chuala mé fuaim corr –‘seo cuairteoir,” cogar mise, “ag cnagáil ag mo sheomra mór —‘seo é is gan níos mó.” oaugh! – más …
The tragedy Titanic!Her Majesty has sunk beneath the waves,and pulled to grief her passengersunto a final icy grave. Thus shocked the world! And as they mournedThe Times did honor victims bornewith lines of grace and rectitude –a simple poem. But oh no! It lit the fire,and flooded now the Times,with inspired readers’ writings,who’d tried their …
Turn Off the Piano 