writing

Unspoken

A poem falls victim today
on the battleground of a swallowed tongue.
The remains of a severed word struggles to usher it’s final truth
before rolling to a stop among the cliffs
of a desolate and unforgiving land.
As others had fought here before,
emerging from tragic storms on the horizon,
they now had seemed to spring off the banks in vein,
searching for a meaning amongst the lemmings of such other beasts.
Their crimes were suited with their fate,
washed away upon the shores of a closed mind
and a broken ear,
never to collide
with the passing of a sailing vessel.
But these words today
were given no such chance
but instead lay gasping for air,
before finally slipping back into the darkened depths
from which they came.
Perhaps tomorrow the tale will be different
of a victory to sweep
and to be awash under wine and celebration
but until that day,
these soldiers shall stay in their quarters,
to pass their time,
before their final calling is spoken.

-Julien O’Reilly

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the sensation of Time Travel

Your concepts of travel, escape me.

In this notion of space, and time travel that is.

We exist, yes,
in this physical realm around us,
in the bodies formed to protect, to serve, to perform,
and also yet, to predict.

In the Present time, I stand here breathing,
and pulsing,
forwardly projected in that realm we call space, time.

But where are we going?

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Give in

Something.
There it is.
I did what the canvas asked.

Give me More it demanded,
so I obliged.

Don’t Stop,
so I didn’t.

I just kept giving,
not even knowing what it was
that I gave, but sure enough,
little by little,
I gave exactly what it had asked for.

Even small amounts of something,
end up adding up
to the whole of everything,
at least what it was that I could offer.

If I held back,
then what was I even preserving it for?
If I save it all for myself,
I won’t be giving anything.

But then who would even know,
what that something
could have been,
or perhaps,
should have been.

I may dream up of this big something,
you know, all on my own,
but in the end, a dream cannot be shared.

I can still provide that glimpse of self,
even if it fulfills another’s wishes, ambitions,
and maybe,
just maybe,
that glimmer of the greater possibility,
of what should have could have been,
will be blinding in brilliance, to those
who lay witness to the greatness.

And relish brilliantly in that moment,
so our proud parents, and grandparents,
can see a glimmer of their own dreams,
and say that;
they gave it up for us,
so that we could one day,
give it all up again.

-Julien J. OReilly

Open Ears

Don’t you forget.
The Limit of our existence.
Overcome with the desire to fill,
every ounce,
every space,
of our walled timeline.
Containment in just this fraction of a blink
in life,
or without life.
How much can one possibly burn,
and ignite,
set ablaze to melt beyond your skin’s reach
consuming an entire Island for one’s Deceptive Pleasures.
See with your Eyes, set within your Heart,
this Creature of Humanity,
expansive – across your toes,
folding in on itself,
in perpetual
motion,
devouring and blooming
in perfect stride.
See not,
the capsule of your own Flower,
but the Fields of an Orchard.
Leave your mark like water,
flowing to Creation and wonder,
a stream of seeping goodness in to the soil of time.

Have we not yet had our fill

In a life where the space between action and reward,
narrows to that of a cricket’s chirping, crackling, wings,
we’ve grown a Hunger
Larger than the Chew of our Bite.
Sew shut the muzzle of your cannons,
breathe life into words,
into Origin,
each World a class of its own,
to teach
and to learn.
Forever the Student
Forever the Teacher
of your own Wisdom.
Within those walls,
within those Capsules,
a way of blossoming – Unique to its own curse.
Never forget the time you have to live your stride,
set apart from those chains of monotony.
Your Story is Worth Telling,
and
I’m all ears.

– Julien J OReilly

In my skin

My ever faithful projection, sewed deep into my essence with pulsing ducts, red and spewing ideas into life.  

My thanks undying, as you carry out so diligently, to protect and to serve.  

In this human-craft, worthy of space travel, this vessel to our will, bends and glides through the permeable sea of a surrounding universe.

Effortless in my stride, as my gaze casts ahead to obstacles my own size.  In unison, do our battles rage; in my thousand egos of a thousand sons, and in your cursed creatures, multiplied in microcosm and hurtling against our webbing of glistening skin. 

On this forefront, dived deep, ever unknowing to our eyes, the war of timeless aggression, your protecting tirelessly until the 25th hour of our lives.  

With my bountiful breaths, I may share my appreciation – twirling magnificent and massive, among the other dazzling forms.  

In the gaping of smiles, under our burdens of leisure, the vastness, glowing, orb of mood set beneath the ballroom chandelier, I bow down to serve you!

So my plentiful existence may prove worthy to your selfless efforts, and keep me upright, and even, in my meandering mind.

-Julien J. O’Reilly

Ever More

And Now,
My curious seedling,
bred from the desire of perfection
enriched through the Earth’s ever-flowing matrix
of “lived and let love.”

A masterful garden
who’s roots have spread and veined,
interwoven within a soil of the richest history,

As You Stand At Full Mast,

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