ryan-p-kinney - Hello Poetry

2 fingers of spiced *** 3 ice cubes Top with Leftover pop Give a hail and hearty **** You” to every mistake you’ve ever made And don’t forget to tip a nod and a toast to your cats

0

Mar 17, 2025

Mar 17, 2025 at 12:10 PM UTC

Drinking Alone

2 fingers of spiced *** 3 ice cubes Top with Leftover pop Give a hail and hearty **** You” to every mistake you’ve ever made And don’t forget to tip a nod and a toast to your cats

5

I need to apologize to my son Not just him But everyone of his generation I am sorry kid We ****** up We delivered you into the wrong hands We did not prepare you for what was coming You are going to have to suffer the consequences of our failures and for that I am so sorry We left you to hate and incompetence and people who don't care for anyone other than themselves and what they consider their kind They don’t know that they're kind is part of all the other kinds that came before I am sorry that I did not live by the one single edict I told myself when I had a child Just do a little better than your parents I don't have to have spectacularly better plan than they did They made choices They made mistakes Now that I'm a parent I can see why But I can also see a way out A better way Just do a little better than them Could you imagine how great our generation could be now? If each parent just did a little bit better Did your father skip out on you? Don't Did your mother abandon you? Don't Did your parents beat you? Don't Were they not there for you? Did they neglect you? Did they not feed you? Not take care of you? Love You? Let you know that you were the most important person? Don't I'm sorry what's coming ***** Our parents actively worked to make it this way We knew it was coming All we ever had to do was make this world better and we failed We did not fight hard enough As parents our job is to protect you Take care of you Make it better We did not We have made it worse I just hope you can do what we could not Just do a little better

0

Mar 17, 2025

Mar 17, 2025 at 12:10 PM UTC

An Apology to my Son

I need to apologize to my son Not just him But everyone of his generation I am sorry kid We ****** up We delivered you into the wrong hands We did not prepare you for what was coming You are going to have to suffer the consequences of our failures and for that I am so sorry We left you to hate and incompetence and people who don't care for anyone other than themselves and what they consider their kind They don’t know that they're kind is part of all the other kinds that came before I am sorry that I did not live by the one single edict I told myself when I had a child Just do a little better than your parents I don't have to have spectacularly better plan than they did They made choices They made mistakes Now that I'm a parent I can see why But I can also see a way out A better way Just do a little better than them Could you imagine how great our generation could be now? If each parent just did a little bit better Did your father skip out on you? Don't Did your mother abandon you? Don't Did your parents beat you? Don't Were they not there for you? Did they neglect you? Did they not feed you? Not take care of you? Love You? Let you know that you were the most important person? Don't I'm sorry what's coming ***** Our parents actively worked to make it this way We knew it was coming All we ever had to do was make this world better and we failed We did not fight hard enough As parents our job is to protect you Take care of you Make it better We did not We have made it worse I just hope you can do what we could not Just do a little better

50

And then the quiet sneaks in again I was not made for the quiet I was not meant to sink slowly into the darkness of some corn field I am to be seen and heard Somebody notice me

0

Dec 6, 2023

Dec 6, 2023 at 12:45 PM UTC

Quiet

And then the quiet sneaks in again I was not made for the quiet I was not meant to sink slowly into the darkness of some corn field I am to be seen and heard Somebody notice me

5

At 3, I broke my leg And again at 5. This would cause my leg to be an inch shorter than the other the rest of my life. 7: My brother pushed me into a wall and cracked my skull Somewhere near that same time, I shattered a pane a glass in my hands, requiring stitches At 15, I thought it was smart to push a bag of broken beer bottles into a dumpster with my hand. I set a car on fire hitting a deer at 70 mph, his antler coming inches from my lung I fell asleep behind the wheel of my truck and totaled a mini van I drove someone else’s truck off the road getting a new engine for the other But it was better than the ice, the oncoming car, the gas main, or the fence post I snapped the front axle of my rainbow Buick twice before I finally killed it Each time, I walked away with just scratches In 2006 I cracked 2 of my vertebrae taking a snow boarders jump with a sled I sliced myself on metal tracks at one job Even plastic containers have left their mark on me I tore my ACL, trying to be stronger (And because of that former leg injury) And added a hernia appetizer I earned carpal tunnel, trying to be brilliant And just make more sense of all the broken What hurt most were the 2 who wrecked my heart Deeper and more scarred than any other pain I am covered in little visible and invisible scars The older I get, the more I collect, The more stories I create I did not slow with age Just kept ramping up, Making more as I give less **** I am always littered with scratches, cuts, and bruises Because I never stop long enough to worry about what damage I am causing I’ve don’t bother with stitches anymore I am held together with pure will and imagination That old adage, “What happens when an unstoppable force meets and immovable object…” I refuse to yield Surrender is not the answer to that riddle It’s to go around I bypass I imagine it doesn’t hurt I find every other way I’d rather keep going. I’d rather keep racking up battle damage I go through my life with a sledgehammer Knowing full well how many times it comes down on me I am so very broken I am always just barely holding it together When all I want to do is fall apart I keep putting the pieces back together I am a maker Filling in the holes with stories Today, I walk with a lean, sometimes a limp And ignore how often it hurts My body is deformed and full of tally marks for every decision I have ever made One day, my body will fail me for the last time It will yield long before I do All those cracks will finally show And out of me will leak All those stories For everyone who helped me make them

0

Aug 13, 2023

Aug 13, 2023 at 10:44 AM UTC

Hold it Together

At 3, I broke my leg And again at 5. This would cause my leg to be an inch shorter than the other the rest of my life. 7: My brother pushed me into a wall and cracked my skull Somewhere near that same time, I shattered a pane a glass in my hands, requiring stitches At 15, I thought it was smart to push a bag of broken beer bottles into a dumpster with my hand. I set a car on fire hitting a deer at 70 mph, his antler coming inches from my lung I fell asleep behind the wheel of my truck and totaled a mini van I drove someone else’s truck off the road getting a new engine for the other But it was better than the ice, the oncoming car, the gas main, or the fence post I snapped the front axle of my rainbow Buick twice before I finally killed it Each time, I walked away with just scratches In 2006 I cracked 2 of my vertebrae taking a snow boarders jump with a sled I sliced myself on metal tracks at one job Even plastic containers have left their mark on me I tore my ACL, trying to be stronger (And because of that former leg injury) And added a hernia appetizer I earned carpal tunnel, trying to be brilliant And just make more sense of all the broken What hurt most were the 2 who wrecked my heart Deeper and more scarred than any other pain I am covered in little visible and invisible scars The older I get, the more I collect, The more stories I create I did not slow with age Just kept ramping up, Making more as I give less **** I am always littered with scratches, cuts, and bruises Because I never stop long enough to worry about what damage I am causing I’ve don’t bother with stitches anymore I am held together with pure will and imagination That old adage, “What happens when an unstoppable force meets and immovable object…” I refuse to yield Surrender is not the answer to that riddle It’s to go around I bypass I imagine it doesn’t hurt I find every other way I’d rather keep going. I’d rather keep racking up battle damage I go through my life with a sledgehammer Knowing full well how many times it comes down on me I am so very broken I am always just barely holding it together When all I want to do is fall apart I keep putting the pieces back together I am a maker Filling in the holes with stories Today, I walk with a lean, sometimes a limp And ignore how often it hurts My body is deformed and full of tally marks for every decision I have ever made One day, my body will fail me for the last time It will yield long before I do All those cracks will finally show And out of me will leak All those stories For everyone who helped me make them

57

Saudade (Portuguese) Literally means longing The missing of something that's always been absent. A melancholic longing for an unknown (mistake) (nostalgia) that may have never existed The Missing Moment by Ryan P. Kinney The Dress: “I know she was wearing a dress, the dress. The one she never got to wear. Working 60-hour weeks on top of nursing school. I was trying to help her keep up her nightmarish zeal to be anything better than herself. I got a second job. I worked with her. I wasn’t enough. That night, she just wanted the dress and to drink and forget. But I was too tired helping her bend into the new shape she was desperately trying to be. I left. Fearing I’d be too tired to make it home, to get up in the morning for my other job. To be strong enough for her. And I knew when I walked out, the mistake I had just made. It was the night she broke. The night she broke me.” The Answer: “There is another missing one. The night I made the mistake of asking another her if she even wanted to be with me. Again, I knew my mistake the moment it left my mouth. Voicing the question already predetermined the answer. I spoke reality to truth. And once again, the void of timelessness swallowed me.” My Sins: “I miss them both.” The road to approval is paved with rejections. Original sin wasn’t the apple. It was the woman. It was *** and the fear of the power of creation. Just because I’m lonely doesn’t mean everyone else has to suffer. I’m not out to punish the rest of the world for my mistakes. If you keep bending her into what you want her to be, eventually you’ll break her

0

Apr 2, 2023

Apr 2, 2023 at 11:42 AM UTC

The Missing Moment

Saudade (Portuguese) Literally means longing The missing of something that's always been absent. A melancholic longing for an unknown (mistake) (nostalgia) that may have never existed The Missing Moment by Ryan P. Kinney The Dress: “I know she was wearing a dress, the dress. The one she never got to wear. Working 60-hour weeks on top of nursing school. I was trying to help her keep up her nightmarish zeal to be anything better than herself. I got a second job. I worked with her. I wasn’t enough. That night, she just wanted the dress and to drink and forget. But I was too tired helping her bend into the new shape she was desperately trying to be. I left. Fearing I’d be too tired to make it home, to get up in the morning for my other job. To be strong enough for her. And I knew when I walked out, the mistake I had just made. It was the night she broke. The night she broke me.” The Answer: “There is another missing one. The night I made the mistake of asking another her if she even wanted to be with me. Again, I knew my mistake the moment it left my mouth. Voicing the question already predetermined the answer. I spoke reality to truth. And once again, the void of timelessness swallowed me.” My Sins: “I miss them both.” The road to approval is paved with rejections. Original sin wasn’t the apple. It was the woman. It was *** and the fear of the power of creation. Just because I’m lonely doesn’t mean everyone else has to suffer. I’m not out to punish the rest of the world for my mistakes. If you keep bending her into what you want her to be, eventually you’ll break her

18

What if; Those little specks you see flying in the air When light passes though dust Are all alive What if; They are all angels, Gods, Souls of lost ones Echoes of our own thoughts, memories, ideas Feelings; Here, there Forgotten, Cherished; Never fully formed Just made of all the bits and pieces Of all the Worlds’ minds Waiting for us to put them together And make them real Inspired by the second iteration of FRONT International, a multivenue exhibition that embraces art as an agent of transformation, a mode of healing and a therapeutic process. The title is an homage to the 1957 poem “Two Somewhat Different Epigrams” by Langston Hughes. Excerpt from Two Somewhat Different Epigrams (1957): Oh, God of dust and rainbows, help us see That without dust the rainbow would not be.

0

Jan 11, 2023

Jan 11, 2023 at 9:46 AM UTC

Oh, Gods of Dust and Rainbows

What if; Those little specks you see flying in the air When light passes though dust Are all alive What if; They are all angels, Gods, Souls of lost ones Echoes of our own thoughts, memories, ideas Feelings; Here, there Forgotten, Cherished; Never fully formed Just made of all the bits and pieces Of all the Worlds’ minds Waiting for us to put them together And make them real Inspired by the second iteration of FRONT International, a multivenue exhibition that embraces art as an agent of transformation, a mode of healing and a therapeutic process. The title is an homage to the 1957 poem “Two Somewhat Different Epigrams” by Langston Hughes. Excerpt from Two Somewhat Different Epigrams (1957): Oh, God of dust and rainbows, help us see That without dust the rainbow would not be.

22

This friend of mine, Like me, Grew up on Lake Erie Albeit a different part He wrote of the significance of the beach break wall That he’d walk along as a child, teen, budding adult man-child And how it was there when his life changed As the turbulent, always shifting water would crash He’d reflect how it was nice To have someplace to catch all that strife Where he could just sit and ruminate Where I grew up There were no break walls Instead, we had long concrete piers Although some of the waves would break upon them Mostly they just showered the violent acquiescence all over you You either stood there and took it Or learned how to protect yourself As an adult, My friend went back to his break wall After so many years of navigating his life He found his comforting thinking spot Was still there Still blocking the shore from being dragged into the lake He remarked how his journey had come so far From that awkward, mumbling kid who sat upon it And how much of himself was still there Still him, but not the same Our lake was always there But never the same lake twice I went back to my concrete piers too But they were no longer there The years of being battered had shattered them Until the township had to give up And broke them into pieces It’s kinda funny Or is it ironic? What they built out of them A break wall Not as neat as my friend’s Ragged chunks loosely stacked together Built out of the broken pieces of everything I once stood upon Fought against As I stood, marveling at the sins of the past My son took my hand And asked what I was staring at “Well, kid, this was once something much prettier, Much different But I think it’s better this way It was worth it.” So, I would ask my friend What would happen if he went back to his break wall And it was gone Life and time change even the most stoic of institutions The next generation will always see the same differently than we did Will what comes next be worth the price? Maybe there never was a break wall It was just him Standing there Waiting for the future to take his hand

0

Oct 20, 2022

Oct 20, 2022 at 9:50 AM UTC

There is no Break wall / The Break wall is gone

This friend of mine, Like me, Grew up on Lake Erie Albeit a different part He wrote of the significance of the beach break wall That he’d walk along as a child, teen, budding adult man-child And how it was there when his life changed As the turbulent, always shifting water would crash He’d reflect how it was nice To have someplace to catch all that strife Where he could just sit and ruminate Where I grew up There were no break walls Instead, we had long concrete piers Although some of the waves would break upon them Mostly they just showered the violent acquiescence all over you You either stood there and took it Or learned how to protect yourself As an adult, My friend went back to his break wall After so many years of navigating his life He found his comforting thinking spot Was still there Still blocking the shore from being dragged into the lake He remarked how his journey had come so far From that awkward, mumbling kid who sat upon it And how much of himself was still there Still him, but not the same Our lake was always there But never the same lake twice I went back to my concrete piers too But they were no longer there The years of being battered had shattered them Until the township had to give up And broke them into pieces It’s kinda funny Or is it ironic? What they built out of them A break wall Not as neat as my friend’s Ragged chunks loosely stacked together Built out of the broken pieces of everything I once stood upon Fought against As I stood, marveling at the sins of the past My son took my hand And asked what I was staring at “Well, kid, this was once something much prettier, Much different But I think it’s better this way It was worth it.” So, I would ask my friend What would happen if he went back to his break wall And it was gone Life and time change even the most stoic of institutions The next generation will always see the same differently than we did Will what comes next be worth the price? Maybe there never was a break wall It was just him Standing there Waiting for the future to take his hand

60

May the power protect you Because I pity the foo’ Who doesn’t freak out When they hear, “Transform and roll out.” It’s your move creep Just another body on the heap The power is yours To understand that this nerd is ******** What I call Beast Mode Is a transformation access code I’ll generate way more than 1.21 gigawatts Till I make your mind rot Now, don’t you slack Cause you know, I’ll be back

0

Mar 27, 2022

Mar 27, 2022 at 9:13 PM UTC

Nerd Rap

May the power protect you Because I pity the foo’ Who doesn’t freak out When they hear, “Transform and roll out.” It’s your move creep Just another body on the heap The power is yours To understand that this nerd is ******** What I call Beast Mode Is a transformation access code I’ll generate way more than 1.21 gigawatts Till I make your mind rot Now, don’t you slack Cause you know, I’ll be back

14

Here comes this serial killer looking creep Thinking he's here for just a little peep He just a little whacked out manic Energy spurts come in an inconsistent panic But I promise I'm an all right dude Even though I act a little rude, but crude I'm the leader who takes apart machines Been my own man since I was fourteen He's the maniac creator Makes all the world his theater In his head lives every world Swirling around in a surrealist twirl He's a trash picking racoon Looking like a tin foil hat loon Now here I go making another promise I'm a monstrosity Frankenstein colossus I build dreams out of your waste Assembling beauty with a fever pitch haste Don't ever doubt what I say Even if it sounds preposterous and risque I make some of the weirdest things Meant to illicit grins from my deepest sins

0

Mar 27, 2022

Mar 27, 2022 at 9:01 PM UTC

Bad rap

Here comes this serial killer looking creep Thinking he's here for just a little peep He just a little whacked out manic Energy spurts come in an inconsistent panic But I promise I'm an all right dude Even though I act a little rude, but crude I'm the leader who takes apart machines Been my own man since I was fourteen He's the maniac creator Makes all the world his theater In his head lives every world Swirling around in a surrealist twirl He's a trash picking racoon Looking like a tin foil hat loon Now here I go making another promise I'm a monstrosity Frankenstein colossus I build dreams out of your waste Assembling beauty with a fever pitch haste Don't ever doubt what I say Even if it sounds preposterous and risque I make some of the weirdest things Meant to illicit grins from my deepest sins

22

Every time I close my eyes I watch a 1000 tragedies pass before them This is the curse of those with the unimaginable imagination Every worry Every doubt Every fear for everyone I have ever loved Becomes a full-length movie I am forced to watch Every time I try to rest or close my eyes or even think Every time I am arguing and screaming and yelling against these imagined worlds I have to repeat the mantra: It's not real This is not real I have to force myself into cognitive lucid day dreaming Some new framework from someone else's fantasy That's happy Where people love me and care Then I wake up I sit alone at home every night hoping I don't wake up from this dream That these worlds can be real But I know One day the ones I fear most Will be real Hold On! Take a breathe It's not real It's not real It's just a story Aren't we all stories? Are you ok? No, I'm not But its none on your concern Leave me alone I'm always alone No matter who's here I have been so scarred by those who claim to love me That I do not believe anything they say Only when I see them actually act. But, if I have to tell them that Then I am forcing them into showing they care Then, do they really? Or do they feel obligated? I don't care for those I do, because I have to, because I'm required to I do not expect something in return But I want it SO badly And the problem is that if I tell them this It becomes about me And this is not about me I'm a parent My life stopped being mine when he was born But what about ME? You should just let sleeping bears lie Because this one can't sleep alone at night anymore With his head so crowded with worlds full of travesty I am so god **** angry all the time At myself for letting myself feel this way For needing someone else I can't I just can't anymore. But I still do I'm tethered to a web of fake memories and sins I know are not real It's not real It's not real It's a ghost story that haunts but with no substance no form no unfinished business no one ever conducts ANY actual business I am alone in the light of day At night the endless voices scream out in silence It is better for me to ignore you than to unleash what I keep trapped inside I care too much For you to have to face that monster Staying away is protecting you If I ever let out what's in there It will destroy you It's the mask I wear so I don't crack into a million pieces And take all of my worlds with me STOP You can stop right there Forward stop having meaning years ago When you lied to me and said, "I love you" You actually want to show you care You're going to have to try harder And if the effort isn't there Then your actions will speak for you What you say No longer does I scream, WHY!" in chorus with my radio WHY? I don't know if it makes me feel better or worse Why do I feel this way? It's not real It's not real What world am I in? Is this one real? Where do I exist? Do I exist?

0

Mar 23, 2022

Mar 23, 2022 at 11:24 AM UTC

Spiral

Every time I close my eyes I watch a 1000 tragedies pass before them This is the curse of those with the unimaginable imagination Every worry Every doubt Every fear for everyone I have ever loved Becomes a full-length movie I am forced to watch Every time I try to rest or close my eyes or even think Every time I am arguing and screaming and yelling against these imagined worlds I have to repeat the mantra: It's not real This is not real I have to force myself into cognitive lucid day dreaming Some new framework from someone else's fantasy That's happy Where people love me and care Then I wake up I sit alone at home every night hoping I don't wake up from this dream That these worlds can be real But I know One day the ones I fear most Will be real Hold On! Take a breathe It's not real It's not real It's just a story Aren't we all stories? Are you ok? No, I'm not But its none on your concern Leave me alone I'm always alone No matter who's here I have been so scarred by those who claim to love me That I do not believe anything they say Only when I see them actually act. But, if I have to tell them that Then I am forcing them into showing they care Then, do they really? Or do they feel obligated? I don't care for those I do, because I have to, because I'm required to I do not expect something in return But I want it SO badly And the problem is that if I tell them this It becomes about me And this is not about me I'm a parent My life stopped being mine when he was born But what about ME? You should just let sleeping bears lie Because this one can't sleep alone at night anymore With his head so crowded with worlds full of travesty I am so god **** angry all the time At myself for letting myself feel this way For needing someone else I can't I just can't anymore. But I still do I'm tethered to a web of fake memories and sins I know are not real It's not real It's not real It's a ghost story that haunts but with no substance no form no unfinished business no one ever conducts ANY actual business I am alone in the light of day At night the endless voices scream out in silence It is better for me to ignore you than to unleash what I keep trapped inside I care too much For you to have to face that monster Staying away is protecting you If I ever let out what's in there It will destroy you It's the mask I wear so I don't crack into a million pieces And take all of my worlds with me STOP You can stop right there Forward stop having meaning years ago When you lied to me and said, "I love you" You actually want to show you care You're going to have to try harder And if the effort isn't there Then your actions will speak for you What you say No longer does I scream, WHY!" in chorus with my radio WHY? I don't know if it makes me feel better or worse Why do I feel this way? It's not real It's not real What world am I in? Is this one real? Where do I exist? Do I exist?

101