Dawn Merrow - poetry

"Be All"

Whisper to me words
I thought I'd never hear.
Better yet,
Scream them in the
Thousand voices
That refused to
Say them before.

Become the
All encompassing
Everything I dream of
When I can no longer
Think of (my own)
Flawed imperfections.

Shine bright and
Twinkling when the
Night sky has no stars.
Without a question,
Clear away the clouds
That block my sun.

"Not Ophelia"

I am not Ophelia.
For man I shall not
Weep, nor drown.
I am not a Juliet.
For love this dagger
Does not plunge.
I do not cry out
unrequited, or mourn
a broken heart.
It is wounded soul,
the deepest depth
of mind.
This sorrow cannot
be touched by the
Hamlet, or the Romeo.
It is my spot,
not theirs,
to remove.

"Vengeance"

His mouth twisted and pursed,
contorting sharply before
opening into a gaping gasp.
A pink tongue, turning gray,
lulled to the left, trailing
slick saliva down his chin.
The breath, pushing scent
and hear, ached out of
him. Shallow, sinking
exhales, punctuated
by gurgling deep in
his throat, were
slowed by
pushing pressure.
Crushing pressure.
Constant pressure.

Contusions staining the
stretched skin of his
neck bloom purple; a
garish flourish to his
stiffening chill.
Numbed, bluish lips remain
curved in a concaving hole.
His cheeks arc inward,
blood draining
to his
dying brain.
Drying brain.
Decaying brain.

His inner air stops flowing,
caught behind the collapsed
throat. The lungs below,
continuing to
contract, create
acute suffocation.
Acute strangulation.
Acute asphyxiation.

"Silent Garden"

With a mighty gentle hand
he plucked me from my
silent garden.

As roses bloomed beneath me,
I was expelled by his
merciful force.

Purgatory in this loud
reality, I've been
banished here.

Eternity after Eternity,
I shall sit on bench,
on stoop, on street;

The peace of roses
no longer mine.

"Smoker's Sky"

We sit cross legged
on this wall,
night air no longer
cold to us.
The stars are a hearth
by which we warm.
We are in and of
this early darkness,
lit up only by our
burning ash and
rising exhales.
We need not speak,
instead just breathe
and watch the
sky-
our smokers' sky.

"Dinner Party"

The smile fell from
Her face and
Shattered
On to the dining room
Table.

Pieces clanging on
Water glasses and
Salt shakers,
She can't seem to
Pick it up
Quick
Enough.

He ignored her
Mistake
And continued
Carving his
Seven-bone roast.

Small talk
And laughter
As she strained
To rearrange
Her fallen teeth
And lips
Onto her
Painted face.

"Two Roses"

Two roses grow together
In a field with little sun.
One ray of warmth falls,
But only on one bud.

Both rise and flourish,
And bloom with reds and gold.
The gardener comes to them;

He came to pick but one-
The one that grew in darkness
Or the lucky one in light.

He makes his choice,
The stronger rose then left in
darkness,
Left just outside the sunlight
It never really needed.