Oct 19, 2013

Come closer.
I won't bite.
Take that back.
Yes I will.
If you want me to.

Jul 24, 2014

it's in the way your smile is reserved for only the things you find stomach achingly funny
it's in the way you twitch your lips when you'd rather not decide
its in the way you are never a yes or a no, but a solid maybe
its in the way you read the words off of a paper more gracefully and confidently than when conversing
its in the way you push your glasses up the bridge of your nose as if trying to put less space between you and the world, but just enough for comfort
its in the way you smile like you know something the world does not and you carry that knowledge around on your slumped over shoulders

#boy   #a   #for  
Apr 28, 2013

All this time I thought I was the one with the issues.
I guess not.

Oct 19, 2013

I have no dance partner.
It's just me and the mirror.
My rhythm is a little off.
My towel dropped.
The air is hitting my naked body.
The music is slow.
My hair is wet.
It's just me.

Mellow Ds
Feb 17, 2011

The sadness continues and hilarity ensues:
With a close eye on the test tube, I burn down my venues.
Foxes and diamonds from the cancer within you
Grace my damned health with phrases that spin you and
Body-parts scattered beside collapsed ladders with
Hair torn and tattered and dog jawbones shattered,
Deceived by a tarot-card-reading man with a hook hand
Who said the scam was a means to increase public demand
Before walking through sewers to see old friends skewered
On trees made of wire with leaves like computers
From Silicon valley rejects who were top of their classes,
Oblivious to the fact that they're dead to the masses,
Who only want cellphones that tell them their names,
So they can remember who they are and from whence they came
And how old they will be on their final birthdays,
When sunlight and skies will be fluorescence and X-rays
And children will tell all their mothers to die slow,
Because they're looking for something more loving than "I know
How much you hate yourself and the world surrounding
Because the applause at your funeral won't be resounding,
Plus your father loves alcohol more than your sister,
Who you may not have known, had your father not missed her,
Which is why all the walls are covered in blisters
And there are cat's eyes and hands peering out of the pisser,"
To which there is no reply, save for incredulity,
For as we collectively die, you all put on all your jewelry,
Which was made by a child with no concept of labor,
Who gets less respect than sweater-vest wearing men in the paper
Who get there by switching the flow and catching the vapors,
Like sentient parasites or intelligent tapeworms
Who tell me it's unhealthy to meet someone and hate her
Simply because when I look at her all I see is the savior.

(c) Ryan Bowdish 2010-2011
Mellow Ds
Feb 18, 2011

I love the smell of my flesh in the morning
So soothing, like the ghost of the woman you're mourning
Conforming to a bitterness, you swore to me
That you wouldn't do what you did, but what's more to me
Is that your stain rests upon every thing that I enjoy
My heart is a consultant, don't insult it by calling it unemployed.
I put too much time into your eyes on my mind, in my rhyme
Undermined, badly timed, so let's get to other subject lines

Starlight baking cloudy, shaking
Hourglass breaking, howling naked
On a street corner, "Happy Birthday!" (belated)
Just say it. If it's in a reactor, it's decaying
A single rooftop smothered by snowflakes, earthquakes
Heartbreaks, salt shakers, risk-takers, green bakers
Understudy, crush me honey, lose my number, don't go under
Keep me waiting and debating, my hand shaking, the phone breaking

My face is a reflection of the sunlight's rays
Keeping a constant rumbling from underground at bay
And everyone complains that they're smothered in their own way
But when I rationalize the rainbows, their records won't play
I simply need the orchards to escape this lonely torture
A place to sit and paint in front of a tree and make a fortune
Soothing ears to rest and putting minds at ease
My music, a viral infection, a depressive disease

Constantly starving myself of the rain
I bring the trees to their roots and stimulate the brain
With a conflagration of color, instantly insane
Yet civilized, melody harmonized, urbane
The strings will vibrate and body rejuvenate
Conceptual mind-rape a rising heart-rate
The starlight glowing outwards, the falling of the towers
To signify to flip to side B in a mere matter of hours

(c) Ryan Bowdish 2010-2011
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