Michael Ryan

Michael Ryan Apr 2014

I stopped writing and I started feeling
Without words I could no longer push reality away
Instead I spelt the words across my flesh
Instead of writing beauty. I spelled out destruction
I no longer wrote about the dreams of another
I lived the nightmares of my own

I wrote this a while ago, just wanted to write more, but I like this how it is. No need to push, I'll just write a different poem if I want write.

Michael Ryan Feb 2014

Red Rubies Bubbles or Boulders

I cut myself to see how much I will bleed,
And watch as little bubbles of rubies fall from the flesh.
They swim so slowly across the open air, they are life giving bubbles.
And fall into infinity as they wash into the depths of the ocean floor, my shower.
As the waves of precious rocks begin to cease.
I press hard against the current to make the waves come back to life.
Giving life to watch my own fade away.
Of course this one crack in the surface of the world is never enough.
And so the earthquakes and new ruptures burst onto the surface.
It's just nature taking it's course.
The land trembles and somethings happens to rip open.
Spewing out boulders not bubbles.
They don't slowly sweep across the skin.
Nor do they float down into the depths below.
But spew out quickly and slam down into the ocean floor, my shower.
Turning clear into murky.
Changing the pure face of water into tainted minerals.
These waves will never stop.
Until the source they came from is gone as well.

Optional optional not so optional to me. I don't know why I felt like writing this. I am not on the brink of death and I am no where near feeling this. I feel very very happy right now, thinking about my sweety and loving her.

Michael Ryan Jan 2014

I'm Lame. (Couldn't quite think of a better name)

The shortest poem there ever was.(I lied. it isn't that short[Sorry])
With the deepest story.  (well, what is your definition of deep?)
There ever was.  (depending on your definition, then yes, "ever was" is right.)
Spanning across all the land. (actually it's not on land at all, it's in the air when I speak)
through all existence, (lets just say "all of existence", that sounds nice)
thoughts, (well my thoughts and yours)
languages, (that would be Spanish and English for us)
struggles, (oh there are a few of these)
1 breaks all, (well maybe more than one thing)
and here it is, (dramatic much)
"I love you"
quite simple. (but so complex)
isn't it,  ( I believe it so)
Daniela (Cutest Cute Cutie)

I'm lame. Susana Daniela Perez Sanchez.>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> [^-^] It's in the air and in my mind when I speak to you.

Michael Ryan Jan 2014

A heart Shaped Box

A box.
That's all it is a box.
Some cardboard, no big deal. Does not mean a thing to anyone else.
But I want to send this box so bad.
It's a box of thoughts and promises.
That it means the world.
I must get it out.
I must sail it over the sea.
If I must I will send it by plane.
If not plane then boat.
Yes, this is going where you think it is.
If not by either of those I guess I'll have to bring it by foot,
because this box only means the world when it's in your hands.
Not mine.
Everything inside would mean nothing if you did not exist.
I only have this box to give to you.
and inside is my heart, a metaphorical heart of course.
Because I'm pretty sure we both wouldn't be happy it was a real one.
That note would say; "Here's my heart where it belongs."
#I'mDead.
I don't know if you've noticed but it may be just a box.
But it isn't just a box at all.
If it means soo much and I put all I can put into.
Then this box is apart me,
but really it is a part of us.
I don't know if that makes sense.
Saying that a box is part of us,
but it is part of our thoughts and our history.
This box represents the world,
and that you and I exist.
It's a string that connects us when we can't be connected.
As I talk to you everyday and every night.
Miles and miles away.
It'll be on it's way,
and land at your door.
My heart.
and maybe yours.

A poem about our 'box' that I will send to you, Susana Daniela Perez Sanchez

Michael Ryan Dec 2013

Nothing but original

Merry Christmas, but this is not a Christmas gift
This is more of an appreciation of you, Janet
I can't make you art, and I am sorry that I can't
I am sorry that I can't give you something other than my words
So I'll do my best to tell you how much you mean to me
I don't think you'll ever know how deeply you matter in my heart
and I don't want to express my feelings in some generic sort of way
I've made many friends this semester, if I had to count it'd probably be a strong 40
40 people that I am willing to say are my new found friends
Yet leaving after this semester I will only have 1 reason of why I'll be sad to leave
I only had 1 person that it was hard for me to tell I'll be gone soon
I only took one person to the side to tell them about next semester
There's only 1 person I've been trying to see more of before I go
and no this is not some big build up to say some one other than yourself
JANET you are the one person that I will miss
The 1 and only person I feel some anxiety to leave
My very being aches a little thinking
knowing that I won't be able to knock at your door
I won't be able to come and hold you up
I won't be able to look at you and wonder what you are thinking
I'll no longer be able to sit next to you in the MPR or anywhere
You have been if not the best person I have met in a very long time
You make me feel wonderful when I'm feeling terrible
Maybe you did lie to me the first time we met, but we're way beyond that
Maybe you do always walk ahead of me
Maybe you do always make me feel awkward in front of other people
but none of that matters, other than it got us to where we are
Two people that will forever have memories of each other
No matter how much time goes by I will always know Janet Kung
We will always have our poem of lovely improv
The enjoyable meals of me doing everything for you
and our luxurious night at La Traviata
The end: I love you Janet

Some day this will be posted I assume. It is 12/18/13 and today is the last day before everyone moves out and goes back home for winter break. I will not be coming back after coming home break, instead I will be taking the next semester at the community and life here changes in years so I will never be able to have this experience ever again. Janet Kung the only person I will miss. I love her and she is wonderful.

Michael Ryan Dec 2013

She says, so it must be :)

I wish I could write poems.
I wish I could write.
So I can tell you how much I appreciate.
That you're alive.

It's not a poem, they say, but anything can be a poem, I say. Not written by me, but someone close. I put it up because I knew it would make them happy.