Patrick O'Reilly

Rookie (1988 / St John's, NL)

Patrick O'Reilly Poems

81. Everything Bare: 3/20/2010
82. The Good People Of Kilkieran County 3/20/2010
83. Lilies 3/27/2010
84. With God On Your Side (All You Nationalists) 7/17/2006
85. Aftermath (Or Why I Write) 7/30/2006
86. The Fire 8/14/2006
87. Solace 8/21/2006
88. The Pipes Cough Symphonies 12/1/2006
89. This Is The End, Love (Long Time Ago) 8/19/2007
90. Summer Employment 7/8/2008
91. I Fear Not The Wrath Of An Angry God 8/13/2008
92. Saloon 2/26/2009
93. He's Been Good To You 2/26/2009
94. Cape Spear 2/26/2009
95. A Bunch Of Grapes 3/14/2009
96. Wedding Bells Are Ringing 3/14/2009
97. I Saw Light 3/14/2009
98. The Junkyard 3/17/2009
99. Kathleen 3/17/2009
100. Waterfront Before Dawn 6/2/2008
101. The Light Declines 6/18/2008
102. The Party 6/23/2008
103. Cheek To Cheek 7/7/2008
104. Another Year 4/24/2009
105. Drought Conditions 6/20/2009
106. A Single Car 9/15/2009
107. Prairie Town 3/18/2009
108. Long Distance Romance On A Short Wave Radio 6/2/2008
109. Shadows On A Downtown Wall 5/21/2006
110. The Oven 4/21/2008
111. It Hurts, And Maybe It's No One's Fault 8/2/2006
112. Brick By Brick 8/5/2006
113. The Wrecker 4/12/2007
114. Coming Home Soon 3/30/2009
115. The Tiber River 4/4/2007
116. You And Me, Kid, We Got Hard Luck 2/7/2007
117. Because You Only Want To Argue 11/27/2006
118. For Sen. Helms (R-Nc) 7/8/2008
119. The Ferry Across The St. Lawrence 7/22/2006
120. The Modern World 11/19/2006

Comments about Patrick O'Reilly

  • Sallie Howson (6/23/2007 12:43:00 AM)

    have saved one of your poems to my favourites list so i can come back and peruse the others at will.....great reads

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Best Poem of Patrick O'Reilly

3am And It's Quiet

It gets quiet at 3am.
The bedsheets are wrinkled and rolled back.
Another half empty cup of coffee,
Another crumpled sheet of paper.
Elbows on the table, head in hands.

It gets quiet at 3am.
The only sound is the calm traffic in the street below,
And the late-night infomercial.
A breeze shakes the drapes.

It gets quiet at 3am.
I rub the sleep from my eyes and look out the window.
The streets are a ghostown, lonesome
And soaked in the early morning wet.

I'd like to lay down forever,
But it gets too quiet to sleep.

Read the full of 3am And It's Quiet

An Ancient Artform

This is an ancient artform,
A relic almost sacred I told her
As I placed the huge black disc onto the platform.
I've never even seen one of these she confessed.

The needle found a track.
Every crack and pop echoed off the walls.
We were alone in the room.

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