m-e-ronan - Hello Poetry

Gliding in my thoughts Drawing lines of no belief Stamps of words on me Life does not seem so linear at all Void in my thoughts Vehemence of the violent voices Rolling over my softness Sharpness in a round room of life Silence in my thoughts Evaporated lines of tissue and devotion Fragmented injury allot An isolated point in the middle of life An edge in my thoughts Laying out the same unvaried harshness Crying not in my name Non-echoing affinity bouncing off my life Pause in my thoughts Shadows in frequencies of low and strong Sing in parity with Charm and wonder in disjointed arms of life

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Apr 12, 2021

Apr 12, 2021 at 6:21 AM UTC

m-e-ronan

Commonalities of Life

Gliding in my thoughts Drawing lines of no belief Stamps of words on me Life does not seem so linear at all Void in my thoughts Vehemence of the violent voices Rolling over my softness Sharpness in a round room of life Silence in my thoughts Evaporated lines of tissue and devotion Fragmented injury allot An isolated point in the middle of life An edge in my thoughts Laying out the same unvaried harshness Crying not in my name Non-echoing affinity bouncing off my life Pause in my thoughts Shadows in frequencies of low and strong Sing in parity with Charm and wonder in disjointed arms of life

20

One insane, and two to be I love you on this road And the one next to me Hand in hand, reaching out Just a gentle touch, two tips to brush, Will we ever meet, I wonder Wearer with no questions to ask, Three spins, yours, mine, and once a thought Surely this is more than that All textures are laid out of me Cold veil of shame and a fear of losing you For once to make a decisive look Receiving and ending, you, a ghostly you Vacillating soul of no ponder Leaves a floating trail and others to wonder.

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Mar 21, 2021

Mar 21, 2021 at 10:09 AM UTC

m-e-ronan

Oscillating Answers

One insane, and two to be I love you on this road And the one next to me Hand in hand, reaching out Just a gentle touch, two tips to brush, Will we ever meet, I wonder Wearer with no questions to ask, Three spins, yours, mine, and once a thought Surely this is more than that All textures are laid out of me Cold veil of shame and a fear of losing you For once to make a decisive look Receiving and ending, you, a ghostly you Vacillating soul of no ponder Leaves a floating trail and others to wonder.

15

Poor and pity, somehow fallen From the purity surrounded That I meant to mean. Either sorrow in silence Or vengeance I must seek These are the options for recovery My illegitimate soul weeps. My heart is stomping, creating storm, Ghostly fear discovers A nauseating essence of human form. Time limit for trauma Is accepted to cease In the absence of hurt Not a minute more, please. Curtains pulled to cover The heinous crimes of all Society’s trauma blindness Is in woman’s unrecovered core. Moving stillness in a sitting traffic, I am speaking But my lips don’t move at all.

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Mar 15, 2021

Mar 15, 2021 at 12:28 PM UTC

m-e-ronan

Femininity In Trauma And Recovery

Poor and pity, somehow fallen From the purity surrounded That I meant to mean. Either sorrow in silence Or vengeance I must seek These are the options for recovery My illegitimate soul weeps. My heart is stomping, creating storm, Ghostly fear discovers A nauseating essence of human form. Time limit for trauma Is accepted to cease In the absence of hurt Not a minute more, please. Curtains pulled to cover The heinous crimes of all Society’s trauma blindness Is in woman’s unrecovered core. Moving stillness in a sitting traffic, I am speaking But my lips don’t move at all.

21

How can I see? The spring in its silver notes, Sweet sounds of watering, with The meadows that are meant to be. A linear existence emerging From the synchronicity of sprout The greenness that comes to caress Soul of the spring time, which Captures a stillness of the growth. A beauty of change, that doesn’t resonate In the bloom of life, but rather During the glisten of withering light How can I compare Duality of change in nature Newly born buds predictability, With my spirits unfolding Yet to come so frequently In the face of bitter winter, Steps taken towards the tempest Imprints the raw snow, So willing for a fervid journey It burns onto a spring plain, Only in a hindsight You see the change in true life

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Mar 8, 2021

Mar 8, 2021 at 11:56 AM UTC

m-e-ronan

Unprinted Paths

How can I see? The spring in its silver notes, Sweet sounds of watering, with The meadows that are meant to be. A linear existence emerging From the synchronicity of sprout The greenness that comes to caress Soul of the spring time, which Captures a stillness of the growth. A beauty of change, that doesn’t resonate In the bloom of life, but rather During the glisten of withering light How can I compare Duality of change in nature Newly born buds predictability, With my spirits unfolding Yet to come so frequently In the face of bitter winter, Steps taken towards the tempest Imprints the raw snow, So willing for a fervid journey It burns onto a spring plain, Only in a hindsight You see the change in true life

24

My heart is hanging upside down, A soulless blood spitting, impaling morrow, as it casts a shadow on him, one becomes a killer, the other one a game.

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Feb 19, 2021

Feb 19, 2021 at 6:15 AM UTC

m-e-ronan

Evil Skin

My heart is hanging upside down, A soulless blood spitting, impaling morrow, as it casts a shadow on him, one becomes a killer, the other one a game.

6

Would you see me as me? In the silent gaps between doing, In the stillness when I’m thinking, In the stuttering and lost words My mumblings and talk, Can you make out a story? Intentions and initiatives that may lead to nothing, Can you see the trying? In the half filled paper, the lost ending. Can you imagine my thoughts?

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Jan 14, 2021

Jan 14, 2021 at 9:49 AM UTC

m-e-ronan

Living Elsewhere

Would you see me as me? In the silent gaps between doing, In the stillness when I’m thinking, In the stuttering and lost words My mumblings and talk, Can you make out a story? Intentions and initiatives that may lead to nothing, Can you see the trying? In the half filled paper, the lost ending. Can you imagine my thoughts?

12

A drop on my cheek was of a hollow tear, It silenced the day that was so near.

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Dec 28, 2020

Dec 28, 2020 at 9:14 AM UTC

m-e-ronan

Resilience Lost

A drop on my cheek was of a hollow tear, It silenced the day that was so near.

2

Line of charcoal running along, On the surface of the paper, Same lines follows your index finger, On the surface of my skin, Twirling, looping, Continuing patterns, Outlines of my life On both, the paper and the skin, One owns the body, The other one is mine, But both are Wrinkled and trashed.

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Dec 27, 2020

Dec 27, 2020 at 11:06 AM UTC

m-e-ronan

Thin Lines

Line of charcoal running along, On the surface of the paper, Same lines follows your index finger, On the surface of my skin, Twirling, looping, Continuing patterns, Outlines of my life On both, the paper and the skin, One owns the body, The other one is mine, But both are Wrinkled and trashed.

13

In silence, in solitude A line of people surround me Perpetually faces protruding Screams of turmoil falling on me Like a pour of concrete Permanently motions denied Salvation lost in stillness My existence feeding from it Energy exuding from the hatred Silence is lost on me Too many talking Cheap cynical laughter No respite, no comfort Lost my own voice within

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Dec 7, 2020

Dec 7, 2020 at 5:42 AM UTC

m-e-ronan

Others In Me

In silence, in solitude A line of people surround me Perpetually faces protruding Screams of turmoil falling on me Like a pour of concrete Permanently motions denied Salvation lost in stillness My existence feeding from it Energy exuding from the hatred Silence is lost on me Too many talking Cheap cynical laughter No respite, no comfort Lost my own voice within

14

My weight in walnuts, cracked open by the use of tools, with adult digits too, unlike in the past, they keep rolling, weighing and discovered, by curiosity, by wisdom, no syllables without a match, sentences make a book, needle ***** when changing colours, burn with over boiling, wrong answer with equation, exhilarating acceleration, no need to quit or anger, this is how it is, your weight in walnuts.

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Aug 17, 2020

Aug 17, 2020 at 3:17 PM UTC

m-e-ronan

My Weight In Walnuts

My weight in walnuts, cracked open by the use of tools, with adult digits too, unlike in the past, they keep rolling, weighing and discovered, by curiosity, by wisdom, no syllables without a match, sentences make a book, needle ***** when changing colours, burn with over boiling, wrong answer with equation, exhilarating acceleration, no need to quit or anger, this is how it is, your weight in walnuts.

15