http://slow.writerscafe.org/libby%20mckeown The original writings of author Libby McKeown en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776064829 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 It was an even night in Beirut,and we survived the blast.Bloody, fire-soaked,we ascended the hotel,peeled off our clothes like black pages,and made silent, final love http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/1039214/ my yellow nails are my entry fee, membership into the esoteric mundanegod is the moonlight on a newborn, the afternoon shadow on a blind faceturn the radio up, drown out your lack (no word after, just end line with lack)poem about taking the matrix blue pill (the pill that goes nowhere)and how there.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/1029998/ pieces http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/1012894/ pieces http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/1012893/ pieces http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/1003195/ I am glad to be miserable, because I have you.We can never now be alone,knowing each other,it can never be a full night, streetlights point the way. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/998446/ pieces http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/985252/ the mounted deer head watching the game in the mexican restaurant a poem about amputees.  parts missing that still itch and ache, though long gone.everyone is an amputee, missing sight, missing touch, missing mindeveryone is without some sense of the five/six senses these two items re.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/886787/ I can sleep knowing not every thing has to be said. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/807754/ a little angry http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/539466/ Bored fingernails tear thinpaper trinkets--Dignity approaches the lecturn;mamas pull out their cameras,proud faces turn to attention.My name flies over perfectlyarranged tables.I stand amonga blur of expectant faces.My dress is no longer tight,the room no longer cold,the cafete.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/538537/ Kill one,and a thousandtake its place. Light one,and it takesa thousand more to satisfy.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/538534/ Tribute for my high school math teacher. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/538530/ O Mother,so quiet in her need. I can hear your laughter in my own,and am remindedof your lessonsTime only shall unveil. You are the Monolithby which all truth is tested.I am the poetry of your heart;I cannot fail. O Mother,It is no light thing to straig.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/538529/ That's not what I meant. How bout I light another f*gand laugh at you later.   [unfinished work] http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/538526/ This poem irritates the hell out of me http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/538495/ The only thing I have to show for 30is this poem.I tucked my dreams away;revisting them during commercial breaks,and during my drives to work (I turned the radio up up UP)and while I was brushing my hairwhich I never do enough of.And yeah,I ended that with a prepositionso what!  I'm still a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/538492/ unfinished http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/538483/ For my only love http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/537717/ Youtossedmeinto the abyss--Iscreamedmyself hoarse--thenfed                           trimmed         &n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/537716/ I                                     Youhope            &.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/537715/ The carnivoresavors the momentwhen the teeth rend fleshand the tongue finds purpose. The carcasssavors no momentof a purpose fulfilled.Tomorrow,there will be a new carcass. You, I'm sure, are asleep.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/537713/ Releasea spiral cordof word and numberwound tight into code--mode ofthe disseminatethe dissegregatefall of soundinto touch;forms and linesinto riddlessublime and fracturedfortuitous injagged smoothnessand the rigid whole,soulfully awareof regret in textand absen.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/537712/ I lie  next to youand wonder http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/536058/ Our loveis like disco. There is no hope of its return. And we were too young to understand it anyway. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/536057/ Anger shaded bluethen breathes white in its purity--cold precisionswirls down the rabbit holeand tickles my eyes like shame.I leap years across the desertand my heart explodesat the memory of warmth. Poor Wisdomhas seen it all before and sits, sullen,waiting her turn.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/536055/ Love,you s**t! Every dayI fightagainst yourgentle floodsto preserve my angry spark. Can't that be enough? Be a stranger to me! Go elsewherewith your unsteady handand dinner of herbs. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/536053/ I'm late againfor the acting classI never signed up forbut they keep sending me the bill so here goes:I'm not the lucid thinkeryour mother is.Pride is high heel shoesworth the relief of kicking off.What did my father thinkstepping out for a smokeunder February starscold and.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/536052/ a snippet http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/536051/ Love dies     arrivesin littlewaysthat's alsohowit arrives     dies http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/535619/ There isnoblackor   wrong or rightwhiteonly a [vast]  G               R               E     &.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/535618/ EverydayI come homehopefulthenfindhistoothbrushis stillhere http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/535604/ it was rainingthe angels are crying mommawould have saidbut i knew betterthey were sobbingi was in ittheir grief wasmy grief they wetmy face i sawa woman withan umbrellayellow untouchedby that whichtouched mewhat surprisedme she wasdry she wasuntouched http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/535601/ She lingers,lost in a memory. My lifetimestands in the snowarmorlesswaving goodbye. Death smiles,and takes another bite of his cookie. The lepers laugh,it's just another day.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/535598/ My name is LEGION I amthe  DEMON plaguedravagedslainby the LAMB http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/535595/ needs work http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/535594/ There is a memory of youI wish I had. You look at mewith the hope of every little girland ask, ever so sweetly,if you can stay upjust a little longer. Sure, I say,and you smile sleepilyand lie back in my arms. I promise to fight your every battle,and wipe y.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/535589/ Long after the battle is overshe remains fluidin a fighting stancewild eyes crouchingbehind one long strand of anime hair. The woman in blackcontinues to lookso fierceamongst the mundane of things. Finally,she relaxes into herselfand begins the long walk home.&n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/535572/ Superwoman throws her heels in the closet,slumps on her bed,pulls out the notebook,and scratches off reason #2. I live solely out of spite.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/535571/ The great thing about Hell is with every streak of painI retaste my sin. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/535568/ kneeling in love's shadow A tower of black glassguarded by an archaic word Gliding along waves of fire and silenceto the promise of the abyss She looks at me. . .I continue to walk among the dead. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/535566/ She had to havejust one more shot.The phone rang,and I ran to meet her, and she was there,casual and undefeatedlike she always was,only now,she was missing a leg.I was ready with words,and knowing looks.Before any tears she replied:now shavingonly takes half the time. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/535541/ a bit of fun http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/libby-mckeown/535531/