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 Jan 2014 Ix Ryley
spysgrandson
he tells me dark secrets  
and paints colors on the shore
where the salt mist speaks to him
in voices heard no more  

along he wades, watching
the growing ground at his feet
careful to not crush creatures in the surf  
***** crawling to bed themselves
in their own tugging time
before the moon full tides  

slowly, he walks
as if one long step
might fling him into the abyss  
he does not fear the fall,  
he knows, it comes to all,
fishmongers and kings  
falcons with their mighty wings  
all share the descent, as the sea
turns from blue to black    

while I hide far inland
he paints me dark secrets
vanishing tracks in the sand,
and I long to hear his brush strokes,
to see what vast weary waves reveal,
through his teary eyes
inspired by Donovan Leitch, the Scotch Irish folk singer who long ago taught me all things return to the sea from whence they came. Accompanying image from the grand Pacific at dusk, in 1976 http://www.flickr.com/photos/18878095@N07/5882001025/
 Jan 2014 Ix Ryley
Elisha Malisha
The clouds,
scattered and dashed by magnificent glowing orange
more vivid than the pain of love.
The towering oaks,
like black lace against a fiery distance
more intricate than human hands could weave.
My heart,
inspired, stilled, and heavy
more longing than ever before.
If I could only follow this setting peace,
to grasp, and hold, this ever fading brilliance,
to bask in this ever sinking glory.
But... this is the draw.
only but a moment of glory,
only but a taste of heavenly glow.
This... is dispair.
slowly, yet surely, watching heaven fade,
afraid to look away lest the beauty be wasted.
But is also hope.
Hope of the glory that will slowly, yet surely return.
Sometime it will cease to sink.
Oneday the color will only intensify, never fade.
Until then... we continue to long,
savoring in pain,
from taste to taste.
 Dec 2013 Ix Ryley
spysgrandson
can you remember who you were,
before all the scripts for you were written
in indelible ink, black curled cursive
on obedient lined white pages,
replacing Rembrandt scribbles in fresh dirt
where you made five toed tracks to towers
that pierced the clouds, where you battled dragons  
your young flesh never singed, by their flaming breath  
your silver sword never blood sullied, by your slaying slashes  
that saved the world, until you fearlessly found other foe  
from which to rescue a world worth redemption  
before you learned to read
the menacing mendacity of truth  
writ by those who scoffed
dragons could not be slain  
the world was to be full of pain  
and your once great winged notions
were but moments of madness
 Dec 2013 Ix Ryley
Sean Winslow
In our bed she lay
Tangled, sprawled, and filled with grace
Talking in her sleep
“Wind chimes sang
for your waking breath”
She whispers,
“soft and warm like fresh picked innocence
It gets so quiet these days”
The bedside photos said nothing
But they listened and remembered
a time when the sunrise seemed weightless
Now, though, in a room left deserted
she struggles
under the growing gravity
Of Dawn.
Copyright ©2010-2013 Sean Winslow All Rights Reserved
 Nov 2013 Ix Ryley
Sorrow
Dear You.
 Nov 2013 Ix Ryley
Sorrow
I'm sorry.
I did not know.
And I wanted something different.
But that's just
all beside the point now.

Dear you.

In the end,
You didn't care much
Afterall.
Did you?

And here I am.
Still hoping you'll answer.

Here I am.

Until,
There.
I
Go.

I'd waited
here
without you
until
I saw
the rainfall.
I still believe your promise.
Oh that night of long ago...
When you were someone different,
and I was nothing like
myself.

Perhaps,
they still are living.
Those two ones who
belong.


You know I understood you?
But
Did you even
see my name.

I guess it's all one
sided. And we become
only alone.

But,
I still hold that you inside me.
At least there
he
can
Never
Die
Only,
suffocate so slowly.
Crushed by years
and years of
lies...

Tell me,
will we always be
alone?
"You know I dreamed about you...for 29 years, before I saw you."
Two words.
And die.

There go a million breaths.
 Mar 2011 Ix Ryley
Lizzie P
Feel that aching chest,
apathy and sorrow?
You want to cry,
but the tears won't come.
I know.

Do you ask yourself "Why?"
"Why, heart, do you ache so much?"
You know that its probably true,
that you may be depressed,
but you ignore it.
You push through it,
confide in one close friend,
and hide from the rest.
But still, I know.

You put on a face,
act happy and like nothing is wrong.
But inside you're burning,
decaying from the strength it takes.

You feel you can't go on anymore,
like you just want it to end.
You don't want to end your life,
no, that's not it,
you just want life to fast forward
to when things will look up.

You feel loneliness,
unloved and unwanted.
Undesirable.
Its not the truth though.
You feel that there's no place for you in this world,
at least not where you are now.
Not like this, not here.

You yearn to be free,
you whisper, "Rescue me."
But nobody comes.
Nobody will.

But I know you can make it,
because you're stronger than you think.
Copyright Lizzie P 3/9/2011
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