the house shines bright, it takes every light
sleep refuses to dream, a reverie extreme
the plan to outsmart, a shot in the dark
trigger for a steel mention, the spelling of my name
directed to a lead core, dead center to each letter
primed for flight, a jacket of lead dares our right
a ripping force of violent heat, to rupture complete  
rendered lethal for the take down, a fatal round
chambered by a ******, posted at heaven’s door

Terry D’Arcy-Ryan

the scope in a turning view
ties the hands high over hues
embodies a mask of black
a sticky webbed deceit
stretched over eyes

plays mean for a wicked need
an intricate motion is the catch
shrewd dominates the luminesce
flickers of surrender are devoured
creates a tangled flux

tears of a flower lost in color
cluster in pale beams
sight slivers in reflection
the shine climbing a slide
slips through the mind

hums a childhood rhyme
steps over time so far
singing a wish upon a star
a joyous scatter for chairs
circle to stop is the anxious feed

tricked in a play for keeps
recruits a ball for a chain
conspires a passion to redeem
aims high and jumps beyond
slows to a falling speed

the heart of an arrow
beeline threw a target
buries deep a sharp point
passes screams in between
patches of a quilt lacking seam
ever sleeps the weaver of dreams



Terry D'Arcy-Ryan

a lustrous traipse of visible light
pieces of a gem ignite
broken shards spilling bright
scatters of spark flutter and shine
slices of illumination
a gathering riot of splinters
assemble to intricate lines
interacting a weave of threads to bind
sunbathed ribbons escaping a window blind
an iridescent flood sweeping mean
ravished in the arc of a clear running stream
seduction counts each luxe to feed a greed
holding tight a fist full of beams
every spoke slices extreme
cutting the hand that feeds
offered piece by piece
the battered bow to believe
dragging their coin to redeem
a burden to seethe

                                                              

                                                
                                           Terry D'Arcy-Ryan

a single moment stays
another builds a solid maze
every tick of the clock displays
rising iron walls with slates to gaze
the tick of a tock is the groove to insane
caught on a string, can’t swing away
twisting in the turning fate
the push of a hand
tips the flow of sand
the other hand pulls the weight
forever sharpening the keys
iron mask or the height of a crown
darkness moves on frightening ground
a shared space in the wait
etching forever the sound it makes
a scrap and rattle in a tick for a tock
make doors for walls complete with locks
held open no more, all eyes to the floor
faces keep pace for the evermore
the minds design linked by a chain
a constant companion remains
ticking a song and hammering sublime
safe in a pocket of time


Terry D’Arcy-Ryan

we are chosen
the softest revelation
a whisper in the ear
my guide
resides inside the stars
every fallen one a trail of wonder
we are blinded by our choices
good and evil are a delusion
the fires burn bright on both sides
nobles bend to humble the saved
the willing serve a master
and feed the flames
until a whisper is no more
breathless is the audible silence
a still calm plays madness divine
direction is the next tossed coin
the answer empties
as water flows
through clasped hands
no whispers faint
no star fallen trail
no sunshine at midnight clear
the rear-view mirror
loaded  for retrospect
  dark wings of my brothers
a shadow cast across my face
as the fate I cannot escape


Terry Darcy-Ryan

the sun plays with darkness
stabbing and jabbing in departure
black unwinds, stretching, encompassing, a creeping abyss
stillness has one hand on the wheel
the dark is glassy
the water's reflection is clear
striking shallow sweet a place of phantoms

man kneels in grace
he is hammer for the god's of war
creating his place with a hum and rattle
time is man's finest driven rival
a flash in the sky
we fall and fly
lost inside our own battle cry

hammer on metal produces this metallic sound
agony’s pleasure just beyond
again and over the echo resounds
calls us home while blinding us profound
a cue recurs flowing slow
passes over our ears
the clear place to set a crown

quicker than quick we are controlled
a finger on the trigger
Chosen for one but all ages can be a player
the rules have come undone
to beat a new order
a train jumps the tracks
a chain snaps back releasing a bullet named terror

this bedlam competes with the sound of conflict
in a place found just past bliss's hitch
tattooed with metals ink
engraved skin feels pains true kiss

thunder is envious of lightnings perfect hit
hammer on metal
as the gods crack their whip


Sheer Terror

aka Terry D'Arcy-Ryan

the appearance, an impression to please
living buried underneath, tucked inside to reside in need
wanting stains the hands of hope, to bend a knee and pray
understanding madness, as a cold still reach
the peaks of destiny’s belief
shadow’s our semblance, long before we could see
a tedious churning thickness
disturbed, requires cover for the comfort of restraint
breathing in the deep, to calm this keep
losing ground to stay clear, the voice of fear
a volatile sound, now rounded and fit for chain
freedom is the Idea realized and never ever seen
the scourge, calls to be wound down for spite
winding it and winding it once again
the tighter the twist, until we cannot fix
the risk and the urge to tighten again
until the weight of knowing, is sure to weaken
a turning of events borders the peaceful calm surface
the appearance, an impression to please
the pretty place perfect for a keepsake
preciously smothered to appear tame, kept in a frame
refusing to entertain or warn with her Screams
misery holds tight her hammer and swings  
                                                                      
Terry D’Arcy-Ryan

the lonely plight  
of a dissident man

a single lucent light fueled in the night
so flows pontification and foresight

the crowd it incites
a mass devoted to their leaders spite

the light of one
the spark of another

forming the glow
of a stagnant umbra

this path of no resistance
is the wicked path at our insistence

it Juggles through the past
navigates the lost

untwists the fray
it is the sound that will not settle

a growl of medal
a clink and a rattle

the sound of chain
that engraves a pain

the gun on your temple with a pulled trigger
rush of blood in you ears, fear simple fear

a stab with a twist of knifed redemption
the next stick leads to your suffocation

now you understand how easily we shatter
our disappearance so final a matter

gods spell is knocking
loyal, dead and forgiving

the answer is a doorbell
unfeigned by heaven or hell

we abide times insight
waiting for a green light

a moment of enchantment
one final choice to exit

the one last chance
destined for happenstance  

as the rattlesnake stance
warns and demands  

ruling their charmer
into an alliance

the masses expand
for the malice at hand

arousing a jump in the fire
as the mob grows ******

alarming numbers
fall in shoulder to shoulder

follow the flock
a parade in sync

the fall of one
the march of another

until we no longer struggle


Terry D’ArcyRyan

as a current flows
erosion breaks and bows
the current compass bound
coursing the coastal crown
at last it spills into a restless sea
water divides and moves the shore
with channels quick to bank and restore
the simple watercourse repeats
as the world is shaped
a river to a stream

beneath the raging surface
embedded in depths wakeless
the soft mud ensures
the tall grass grows verdant
extending above into the torrent
we hold onto leaves flowing in the entwine
a habitat dwells in this open current
all existence of my kind
populate the shoreline
maintaining the confines
since the river's inception
sustaining a water raging habitation

the very moment we can grasp a willow
the burden is upon us to never let go
the waterways rush high and low
a constant frame works the undertow
whispers travel to tell forbidden tales
fables of impetuous spirits and rebels
the adventurous who climb to the surface
then lost to the evils of a land too vast
the bravest attempt to swim as an outcast
pulled down to be eaten sweet by waters deep

despite the tales
a voice inside implores “let go”
the result either way is a life sentence
to an endlessness into the nothingness
I will be just another fib for the storytellers
every moment to a free chance
will be worth death ‘s acquaintance
the waters deafening roar
the voice demanding freedom’s detour
the essence of life to believe in more
set me free
I let go



Terry D’Arcy-Ryan

a star marking the spot “you are here “
here resides in the wonder of millions
some names, some numbers, the old and the new
from the highest niche seen, a celestial view
the dare to follow a point steeper
the heart pounds mean, skips a beat in between
a pulse racing extreme, into this very moment
greater and closer to the reason

as clear as I live
as far as I can reach
the constant struggle with belief
pushes the wind uphill, with no relief
the ideal we are free as the will to bow our head
one knee is a spirit in repose,  two a heartfelt creed
and still I am weighed with the need
to whisper a prayer of revere when I leave
the unbelievable reach above one expectation
here imagine is the place, hope can still see

daydreams of great wings
simply unfold for closed eyes
a space beyond human affect
entering the threshold onto everything
and nothing more than sky
the places that I would give my life for
the places left long empty with despair
the places held forever kismet
the places marked with a star  “ you are here “

Terry D’Arcy-Ryan

silent dares
slow engraved exchanges
the primitive evolution of rage
only the fittest will survive
hostility now has a spot at the table
there are no more place settings
the silver is set out perfect
a spoon, casts an oblong reflection
now, even the utensils see
there is nothing left of self respect
only the silver distorted version
of who I don't know, it is not me

strange little pieces
I swallow them over and over
when no one is watching
jagged little shards
cutting away at my insides
beauty she cries night and day
she has no idea that I’m killing her
I want her to stay
beauty is almost gone
the last parts, tiny odd slivers
are hidden away, in the bottom of my closet
vague, sharp and bitter no longer beauty

the path of least resistance
it's the only way to success
real images jump and regress
nothing takes a shape or focus
the fall and crash of glass
a precious mirror reflects what matters 
beauty is unaware 
images move slower and unclear
flashes of my father in a mirror
in this corner the heavyweight contender
my husband, my beloved, beauty's keeper
time merges and flickers closer

the path of least resistance
it's the only way to success 

Terry D’Arcy-Ryan

a passageway assembled in perfection
hues claim blue for reflection
conjured depth’s ensue
a violet isolation
the design of oblivion
no fleeting moment can abscond
all must fall or fly the horizon
these obscurities hold my untold
blinded in hidden tradition
  secrets folded over delicate
           clouds of warm winter blankets          
trapped captive to an attic
lay inside the sunny side of regret
hope tapping on the window pane
a rap for the mocking
sounds a cadence walking
the rhythm of keys jingling
turning on a swinging chain
the view soars beyond iron bars  
watch over a skylined corridor
through a cracked mirror
searching for a lost child
gone far into the abyss
grey clouds shed tears
  a mothers anguish
roars for a thunders rest
sadness mourns while evanescent
the wonder of a child spirit
reaches beyond the pieces left behind
the shine through this essence as divine
empty arms holding tight to stolen time
destiny fight’s to unwind
the labyrinth

Terry D’Arcy-Ryan

stars slowly diminish
darkness completes
still we feel the suffers of heat
the fever suspends in the thick
a velvet’s texture mix
clinging to skin as if drowned
dawn flexes, stretches and surrounds
as the last of struggling stars obscound
sunlight strikes without a sound
grabbing and stabbing clusters
loyal fray guarding reaches of dark
the sun rises content and goes to work

dawn's temper dares and flares
leading mobs to the extreme
a simple day can claim 120 degrees
misery keeps no company here
lust begins with fear
and the hunt for shade
any hue of obscurity a rare breed
creatures scurry free stalking unseen
gila monsters are a venoms lounge
despite the screams to leave

this forsaken oasis
sits ringside to hazards door
bright by right a rising star
a blazing sunmade world
rendering addicts galore
jonesing for a breeze or more
bent backs slave to the hustle and flo
fiends circling to numb a mad core
the hole dug deeper
wind indeed She seldom has a show

a quandry rolls in  
a circling wall of dust a curtain of rain
she comes riding in
on a Kicked up Beast of sand
a lasso in hand
wrangling hounds
and the force of nature
hitting the ground
blow to blow these animals
defend her round after round
the elements are primed
coming out in breakaway swing    
a punch and a weave
dust of demons bend a knee

this is the end of the line
hell is just past the next sign
devils play here long into limbo’s curfew
escape by any means regrettable
here the heat plays for keeps
the dead man’s hand
the sun aims again
with both barrels
the sound comes undone
another round just for fun
the sun reaches down
closes the man's eyes and crosses his arms
embrace the heat or R I P


Terry  D'Arcy-Ryan

grand towering limbs
reach to meet
branches a flourishing keep
twigs to trunks create
a stretch to breathe
crooked seedlings bow in need
live to die, and sow to reap
sewn together a needle to seam
hand to cheek
a means plunges deep
moves a steady pulse to bleed
seeping shallows underneath
beating tree to tree
a hollow quant and sweet

free will drives the darkness
a gesture to greet
the animal unseen
shadows join in to deceive
the passerby and inbetweens
a hunter to a prey
the profile of trees  
dazed in the headlight beams
outline reality as a thief
stealing moments
yet to be
the forgotten trinkets  
hang from trees

a keepsake for a figurine
trapped beads concede
to a broken string
fall along the wayside
finding hope is still free
playing content in the wind
chasing tossed debris
gathering leaves
one by on they fall weak
remnant colors in deceit
raise to a scatter
a boundless retreat
content to repeat
the redeeming sweep


Terry D’Arcy-Ryan

the darkest frame takes the moon
mist and hues rise in blues
traces from a lunacy glow
follow a hand with delicate flow
this flickering serene movement
comes and goes as a wing unfolds
graceful, staggering movements of perfection
magnificent to behold in the dark night
I search through perfection in the light of a star
charmed to the point of complete and divine
dreams finally come and you are still mine
our happily ever after still has time
moments chase away this place of illusion
life wakes and takes you again
the crown of an angel falls through all that I am
we are bound a heart to a beat
heart of mine is the one left behind
an essence that has never known unbroken
the will of my single soul believes
the darkest of the ****** can be redeemed
I am eluded a slave to each breath’s inception
works the same as expectation  
denial sits upright complete with begging  
black is black there is no semblance
it is the smallest grasp of poison
seeping to the center mass of my gravity
always reaching and touching ever still
this core carved out piece by piece
a sliver of the least has outlived the stakes
letting go bows down to enormous regret
still I can see this angel of mine awaits for what will be
supra separation from this broken living space
closer to a revenant heart
leading to a state of grace


Terry D’Arcy-Ryan

obsolete 
folded neat    
worn pale pink 
the remnants of you

a lasting chance 
the heartfelt glance
evanescense
unravels a ribbon

my baby girl 
her little dress  
rest 
upon my chest 

tiny arms stretching
reaching 
for me  
the promise of light     




Terry D'Arcy-Ryan

each counted piece
claimed scot free
beautiful designer name’s
boosted in a hunter’s craze
hustled hope for beggar’s pay
strictly spent audacity
dollars in hand
turns an eye the devils way
it adds up fast, cut the stack in half
traded for a getaway
let it ride another day
living in a higher space
the rent is steep, edge of a mountain peak
separates the sow and the reap
and every breath in between
intoxicated on possibility
the grit to devour and shine,
the essence I define
insatiably taking what’s mine
watching the bottom line,
wise to the final count,
a sum of all things
the take

Terry D’Arcy-Ryan

forged noble thread
guides a knife to cut or trace
sewing as you slumber
belief is a place right here
inside the very outline
to the scar on your face
time has not erased
the momentary recall
planted in the center
holding tightly to regret
humbled by the force
an energy that lives between us
the always spinning final chance
forgoing lost or found
reminisce in love’s true kiss
but disregard the vow  
grasping for the single reason
beyond what is clear
the day by day cheer
disguising a familiar fear
expression of a coward
an accessory to the hustle
left behind with souvenirs
a voice named forgotten
holds on sincere
having your cake and eat it dear
is a million mile detour
from what is real
to a girl with the most cake
a knife is just a knife
there is no death to mourn
no martyr to end betrayal
a final thread in motion
brings destiny to her feet
a magnificent stretch unfolds her wings  
I am set free
with the fate of a butterfly
trapped inside a jar
the weight of agony’s pain calls
for soul’s that cannot fly
with a bended knee and closed eyes
arms held wide
I reach for the sky


Terry D’Arcy-Ryan

death drives the dark
fearless is site unseen
seeks a wicked threshold
catching sleep in between
lost dreams and vague debris
the momentum of obscurity
to the snap of fingers
an instant flicker
turns the head
movement jumps to flee
catching the outline distinct
against headlight beams
the moving silhouette
hanging from trees
the swing of grief
soon to seed
the tears of misery bleeds
sharp stabs seeking green
a means plunging deep
urging a pulse to beat
so goes the steady stream
growing tree to tree
a sea of branches
rises high to see
beyond the leafs

you wondered in
with a Cheshire grin
eyes made for sin
I'm all in
ready for the trip
next hit or miss
the spike of lightening's strike
not once but twice
blinded by the flashes
streaks of color found
the long way around
an unexpected place
caught me indeed
swept me off my feet
looked me up and down
face to face
close and secret
our eyes ready to devour
the first layer
caught right there
crashing through the urge to tear
stranger's arm to arm
in the need
the pushing force of a stampede
pull of a stranger's kiss
a punch in the face
force the twisting gears
the sweet candy taste
drops of colors
all of them
even sparkles
odd hints of tinted shade
smashed in whole
shapes of hunger
new an old
lost and found
touching me insane
lacking restraint
jolly ranchers gone extreme
falling the instant
lips collide
a push purely ravenous
  a taste of cherry snow
frozen delight
stalking me dizzy  
cuz a banana split melts quickly
sugar coma coming into focus
turning from the stranger
that salty shiver of surrender
still in his sights
a tingling of zots
fresh on my lips
the war of sweet and sour
promising kismet
wrapped in a kiss
I need a straight coke
and a  shot of pop rocks
this guy is Cherries Garcia
with an angel's touch
cotton candy shades of blue
floating softly in the sky
beyond a dream
just around the corner
over the rainbow
lost on every aisle
gazing deep
into the icee machine
sugar buzz black out
left me
standing alone

Terry Darcy-Ryan







dedicated to my little sister, the Ginger Ninja
nothing but Love

the devil walked in the room
first thoughts are to exit calmly
a round of sounds complete his entrance artfully
chimes, alarms, a decadent trumpet plays the senses curiously
mysterious it would be to refuse a grave impulse
the hand opens simply
the upright begging posture holds methodical to his evil core
releasing a despair so cunning, a predator smiles sincere
tiny little prickles rushing, cautioning, faithful and dear
become an elegant dance of tingles paired along my spine in fear  
trust denies the plea and the ego shines in a craving for sinister
instant addiction, the ever soft whisper in a mere Hello
promise opens with a red licorice smile and a hunters glow
a presence so cunning
massive weight a mere feather drifting to the floor
every peak in my pulse cuts deeper to an undiscovered center
negotiations owns every breath that awards the monster  
desperation, so comfortable with descent and further
an intoxicating reach and a strength that could free the blind
seduction defines and entwines me into the exquisite serpentine
****** shaping sweet curving as the wet rocks of a river’s flow
temptation to the hang of a spider's woven row’s of show
sticky webbed surrender, the perfect jagged rocks below
powerless to leave or disappear now
the devil walked in the room



Terry Darcy-Ryan

when a sparrow dies
does it touch one thing
does it drop
limb to limb
does it rattle
the whole Tree

Yes, I'm a tree
don't you see
forever reaching
to the sky
a better view
into you
always, growing, twisting, turning
into what I can't move
growing around you

And you, the ever strong
un-moving stone
here I am outshone
impaired beyond despair
a fate come undone
we enhance and embrace
a solid rock frame
creating the ordinary monument
a place to see your name

When a sparrow dies
does it touch one thing
does it hit
branch to branch
does it ****
the whole tree







                       Terry D’Arcy-Ryan

sunshine bends a knee in vigil
seeking absolution's hell
the steeper edge of steel
balance beam of a trail
the driving wheel
is Spiked for the ****
a heart in trespass
rigged like a printing press
cut from raw intensity
a Bad seed wild and free
                            blood of my blood is destiny's tongue                                                                        
the devil is my kin
swimming in gin
drowning inside to simply be still
sinking deeper into gradual
furious and gently we lose will
angel’s tears fill my quill
shedding the reach of a mind idle
regrettable and suicidal
a ledge’s last chance to dance
this box in need of one last nail
                                 leaving with a tourniquet smile                                                                                                  
defined failure
bluffing on a blind
             no chance of a winner            


Terry Darcy-Ryan