ryn - Hello Poetry

ryn Sep 2016

There lived a man, a crooked man
Who bore his life upon his back
It took a toll and weighed him down
As he trudged along the track

He'd resigned to his fate as the day grew late
Ignoring his unwelcomed guest
He had spoken no words as he continued on
Till he decided to stop and rest

But his health was failing and his feet were aching
His destination no one could know
He crumbled to his knees in the setting sun
As daylight lost its glow

He knew that dusk was skirting so near
He knew that night would come to shroud
And soon he would be overwhelmed
By shadows that would come to crowd

He curled into his lanky self
He cowered in shame and fear
For all the things he tried to leave behind
Crouched now in the dark so near

He trembled and quivered
No one could hear him cry
He whimpered and grovelled
Knowing that there was where he'd die

Know this man, the crooked man
Who then had given up on hope
He shivered and sobbed knowing full well
That he'd reached the end of his rope

Part 3 of 6

#hellopoetry107 #crookedmanseries

ryn Sep 2016

Tired and Worn (II)

There lived a man, a crooked man
Whose shadow far did it trail
He walked with aching joints
And clumsy footfalls ever so frail

The man who seemed to have prized his solitude
This company he could never appreciate
He had made this journey in a futile attempt
To flee from his grounded mate

The man had cursed and hurled stones at it
He shouted with his old, failing voice
Made known that he didn't want to be stalked
He begged to be granted his choice

But the man whose eyes were used and grey
He never could see very well
We see him berating his own crooked shadow
For he was old and never could tell

He hastened his pace but his shadow still stuck
As long as his feet touched the ground
At times he would rest, at the foot or the crest
Breathing heavily without a sound

Know this man, the crooked man
Whose clothes were tattered and torn
See this man, the crooked man
Whose body was tired and worn

Part 2 of 6

#hellopoetry107 #crookedmanseries

ryn Sep 2016

Crooked Man (I)

There lived a man, a crooked man
Who walked with crooked gait
He'd walk along the crooked road
From sun up until it was late

His knees would scream with every step
No matter how much he wanted to run
We'd never know where he was going
He'd always follow the sun

He'd mutter to himself, of rises and falls
And of lessons his life had shown
But what we never saw or barely noticed
Was that he had never walked alone

He'd walk his walk with his cane and hat
Dragging behind him a shadow of black
It did what he did and trailed long and short
It accompanied him down the track

Know this man, the crooked man
Whose back was bent misshapen
He had made the choice to chase the sun
With steps sorely laboured and uncertain

Part 1 of 6

#hellopoetry107 #crookedmanseries

ryn Sep 2016

(Un)Alone

Tonight I flicker dimmer than most
I'm alone with everyone here
Stabbing their plates and proposing their toasts

Tonight I feel my wings but they're in cuffs
I'm alone with everyone here
Speaking their words, laughing their laughs

Tonight I bear the arrows of discreet little leers
I'm alone with everyone here
Silently goading me with their mocks and jeers

Tonight I hear whispers muttered inaudible
I'm alone with everyone here
Inconspicuous fingers pointed under tables

Tonight I write but my ink weighs heavy
I'm alone with everyone here
They pile on my thoughts, usurping the calm...
Inciting a mind full of anarchy

#hellopoetry107 #unalone

ryn Sep 2016

Relief

You can't find relief...
In reasons non existent;
In predicaments ill-explained.

There's no relief.
In trying to peer over towering walls.
With feet on tiptoes,
and necks sorely craned.

Relief isn't found...
In wishing upon droplets
that explode as they meet the ground.
Everytime it thundered,
and then rained.

Relief is in the trove
when the heart lets go.
To acknowledge the error,
to move on...
And commit fully to the lesson gained.

#relief #hellopoetry107

ryn Sep 2016

Dawn

We stand in twilight hues...
Fingers consciously entwined in a clasp.
We speak without vocals
that crescendo between sighs and gasps.

We anticipate...
But we do not look forward...
Not to the promise of freedom and salvation.
More so the uncertainty
that resonate with the *****
of feathered morning birds.

The unknown scares us so.
We know not of what lurks,
in the impending light of day.
We simply bide the ticking seconds...
As we scramble for the right words to say.

When there needn't be such uncomfortable silence.
No need for an awkward stance.
For we've embraced the melody,
memorised the lyrics
and rehearsed the dance.

Yet...
We hesitate...
Even though we've decided that we must.
For what shadow that looms agape below us,
hurling threats of swallowing us whole,
will soon be warded off...
As quick as the errant gust.

The darkness...
Will soon be cast behind our backs.
And all would be committed to memory
as surely as it had begun.
It would dissipate as it would stretch far...
But only if we turn to face the dawning sun.

#dawn #hellopoetry107

ryn Sep 2016

Ease

Still the tremors
that crack my voice

Strengthen the resolve
in my bated breaths

Ease the tremble
that consumes my digits

Deepen the slumber
in my nightly deaths

#hellopoetry107 #easemyanxiety