one hand on the world in a spin
agony twists on a single thread
eager to feed the machine
a stranglehold weave
bear the fabric of a lie
wear the symbol in deceit
the day to day insurgence
a gaslight politics
resonates hate
the lure of a crowd
wanting stains
a sea of hands in need
threads the fringe
a needle in motion
steady frame a sewing notion
strums the string
winds the beat
calls marching feet
the tremble will not cease
sedition has a face
to clever lies they sing
freedoms hymns and begging dreams
pen the scars of grief's ink
misery takes a bold leap
holds tight her hammer and swings



Terry D'Arcy Ryan

pretty as a picture
he holds her secure
in the palm of his hand
the force of a gesture
devours every breathe
a relentless caress
forever, is one last kiss

a tiny red light, a float in the nigh
shadows outline it's conductor
relished in a smoke delight
the hunter's stance
leans with a framed intent
a stalker relents
crouching silent

this is clear
as a whisper in the ear
the hunter is precisely near
thrilled in every utter of the struggle
a cascade of links unravel
distant cries fall
a clatter of metal

pretty as a picture
he holds her secure
in the palm of his hand
the force of a gesture
devours every breathe
a relentless caress
forever, is one last kiss



Terry D'Arcy-Ryan

light strikes
beneath the cracks
spiral maps
trace broken glass
splinter and refract
mirror to a view
a fleeting likeness
an image to please
the beauty
you see
bows to the lie
gives in believe
inspires a disguise
as a smile to greet
destiny frees
the willing to need
sight of a dream
keep us serene
tossed hearts of stone
skip the surface
battered to beat
the sinking weight
plunges deep
ripples the water break
adrift bittersweet
hands of a river
surrender to feed
a thread of device
sewn of means
seam to seam
the intricate scheme
pull laces upon strings
reap an infinite weave
a gathered neat
strangled remedy


Terry D’Arcy-Ryan

the sky
held my elegant shadow
against the long winter day
with the falling of the sun
fell a bird
fallen on the grace
of a cold blooded race
the look in her eyes
I will never escape
her silence reached across
to touch my trembling flesh
the familiar was gone
where softness and youth once lived
a sea roared
upon the mountains in my heart
long winter days
came to an end
light cast under windows
I saw your old things, dolls and swings
life was taught here
like the sound in a seashell
it echoes over the wall
where my heart believes
the fallen bird found peace
as I hear her song with the falling sun
warm winter spirits
I will remember you by
reach me now in dreams
your spirit I will always know
but your death
I can not hold



Terry D’Arcy-Ryan

a conjured motion
breathes the air
blows the wind
an elegant stir
impressions blur
scatter to be seen  
the upstage of a dream
a flash to a flickr
Overture in a phantom
one leap follows
another carves hollow
reflects a surface shallow
the recall of your face
captured in our space  
shadows bent into a view
intangible hammers sway
nurture to a frame
repose for a grand scheme
moving evanescence fonder
the smile waking wonder
surrendered under glass
covet a parallel perfection
fierce wild screams
drown the enchant
the bewildered struggle  
a devoured motion