Mary Maloney's Page!
external image nyc6.jpg

A poem is never finished, only abandoned. ~Paul Valéry



Feet Feel Nothing

All my life
I do one thing

Sit outside
And allow time to pass by

I am always filthy
But they are spiffy
I hear three noises

Stomp
Scratch
Punch

I'm meant to live for this
To serve as a convenience
So shows can be wiped
All day and night

No mind travles to me
The servant named Mat
Who did not ask
To be flattened
And smacked

No pity is taken
As my theads are breaking
When i become too smooth
I'll just be removed

One day all this smashing
Will be too much
As boots are cleaning
My last​ hearings will be

Stomp
Scratch
Punch


Nothing but a convenience- Calligrame

The Perfect Pair

The Jet is very loud
as he soars above the clouds
But his partnener the one eyed bandit
is too quiet The Jet can't stand it

The Jet's pack gives broken bones
The Bandits ways are world wide known
These two are the perfect pair
No other duo can compare

There specialty is always crime
most of it is done at night time
The Bandit's pink bandana and creepy eye
make him slick and sleek and sly

Do to the Jet's frequent crashing
His cape and casts are always clashing
Robbing people right and left
There will most always be a theft

Mary Maloney and Jen Dodman


Abstract/ Concrete Poem

This blanket keeps me safe
With it I stay calm
It brings me to a quiet place
It rubs gently on my palms

I get off the couch for a moment
Suddenly I am scared
Thosw few frantic seconds without it
Everythings wrong when we are unpaired

But the second we re-embrace
Everything is fine
Back to my quiet place
If I could only be here all the time

Your Lying Voice

I cant believe it
that you've left me empty handed
I'm so lost now
all alone I just cant stand it

When did this happen?
Should I have seen it coming?
Was it sudden?
Or did you just choose now to confront it?

Everything you said
Where is that all at?
It's tough to think that
you could have made it all up

But you should know now
That this whole thing is Final
I'll deal with it somehow
without you, yes without you.

I know that eventually
you'll regret this choice,
But then it will be too late
Goodbye to your lying voice.

Picture to Burn