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Ryan Hirsch Oct 2016
you hate storms and the sound of thunder
all the while it sings me to sleep
and i think about how you hastily kissed my cheek in the rain before you drove away,
i think about it way too much for it to be healthy
i know nothing will ever come of these feelings but they're here so i might as well write them down because lord knows i wouldn't be able to form them in my throat.
i am purely consumed by you,
consumed by the thoughts running through my head everyday,
the voices in my head saying i wouldn't be good enough for you
but i want to be i want to be that person for you.
i want to hold you when the storms come
i want to love you when you're crying on the floor and when you're dancing around the room in pure bliss
i want to be there for every single moment good or bad
i want to feel this happiness i have around you forever.
you may be leaving soon but why should that matter,
we may be kids right now but what's the harm in the happiness that could emerge
i'll admit i don't know what love is or how it feels, but i want to, and i'm ready to.
Say my name
Say it gently
Use your words
To caress me
Speak your thoughts
Speak them out loud
Confess your love
Amidst the crowd
Scream your wishes
Scream your dreams
Make your reality
Better than it seems
Whisper your pain
Whisper your fears
Release the tension
Wipe away your tears
Open your mind
Open up wide
Let my love in
Let me inside
  Dec 2015 Ryan Hirsch
Nigel Finn
Words are harmless, so they say,
That's where the problem starts;
Sticks and stones
May break our bones
But words will break our hearts.

Words are harmless, so they say,
And point you to their charts;
It's harmless fun,
No damage done.
But... Who will mend our hearts?

The x-rays show no damage
Where words have scathed across,
But it still feels hard to manage,
And leaves you at a loss.

Words are harmless, don't complain,
That's where the problem starts.
It's quite absurd-
A single word-
Enough to break our hearts!

But words are harmless, they maintain;
The subject of their parts,
No less or more,
So let them pour
From all our broken hearts
“Sticks and stones may break our bones, but words will break our hearts” is a quote I have stolen directly from Robert Fulghum.
In my defence, he'd already stolen half of that quote himself.
  Nov 2015 Ryan Hirsch
Brandi R Lowry
She weeps not for the shore
As distance creates a shadow
She embraces the current
Becoming the wave
And gently pushes her sea home

She chases not the sun
As the day is put to rest
She is the moonlight
That cradles the stars
Tightly to her *******

She yearns not
Her pain-streaked tears
That fall below her feet
She is the soil beneath her toes
Her pain now colors the tree

She worries not
The flowers' bloom
Or the leaves that fall like rain
She is the wind
That will kiss the ground
And sweep it all away
  Nov 2015 Ryan Hirsch
my fingers have become bored with
the quicksand of routine
they prefer to dance erotically over my typewriter
frolicking like naked ballerinas
over an ancient stage
spilling their secret thoughts
onto blank page,
after their day job
threaded together
over my lap,
or bending over to
reveal the contents
of my burlap sack

they have taken instead
to jumping over cracks
in the nothing of night
stifling the sound of silence
with assortments of clicks and clacks
punching in the perfect pitch of keys
to leave Beethoven blind
from this symphony of notes combined

and just like that at last
they have unfolded some rhyme
unachievable with ink and pencil,
without the stencil of time
dictating to work inside the lines
Ryan Hirsch Nov 2015
A Raven sits alone
So cold you'd think its stone.
The superstitious run and hide,
Thier fear of death much too high.
And though he seems insane,
And unshaven man rest on a bench below the Raven's perch,
And told it a tale of a man once clean shaven.
He tells the Raven with a hollow tone,
How the man used to walk head up high,
Not a speck of devastation in his eyes.
How the man thought he had it all,
Riches, power, and fame.
But one day, walking the cobblestone street,
The man saw a girl, he just had to meet.
She wasn't beautiful and posh in the eyes of society,
But the man saw that she was an angel.
He told the Raven how the man won her heart,
How once together they were never apart.
He told the Raven how she became the man's wife,
How they were both so content with life,
He smile then, his eyes swelling with tears.
Then he told the omen of death.
How the woman's heart beat left her chest.
He spoke the words she whispered before parting,
His eyes dark and wet.
And cheeks stained by tears,
He told the Raven how the man lost all hope.
How the man now sits,
On a bench in Maine, telling a Raven, the omen of death, his sorrowful tale.
His voice full of grief he tells the Raven
"I pray you will be my omen"
He spoke with heavy heart that he missed his angel,
He wished only to be reunited with her.
And with that, his tale came to an end.
And the unshaven man layed to rest his head
And finally rejoined his angel they said.

— The End —