ryn - Hello Poetry

ryn Oct 2017

The rage that surged...

The coal in the furnace that
drove heated words.

The years before had converged
and all it needed was a mere
little pin-*****...

To blow this situation
wide open...
To usher the birth of
a broken fist.

#hellopoetry107 #brokenfist

ryn Oct 2017

Irreplaceable

Dusting off the dirt
from my shoes well worn.

They've travelled far
and had tasted all manners
of earth.

Soles now parched,
and leather all beaten.

Eyes laced close,
scuffs and tears
crying for a mend.

Tongue lolled limp,
dislocated and misplaced.

These shoes,
they beg for a life
much different.

But these feet
knows and wants
the only ones
that fit.

#hellopoetry107 #irreplaceable

ryn Oct 2017

Wings

.
I dream of the night

That I'd sprout new wings

I'd then take to the sky

In search of new things

I'd flap them hard

I'd crest over the moon

I'd map out the stars

I'd claim the boon

But the wings, feathers they shed

More till first sun's beam

I'd falter back into this shell

Till it's time for a new night's dream

.

#hellopoetry107 #wings

ryn Oct 2017

Amiss

Something is wrong,
something's amiss today.

Sun shines duller,
and everything seems so ill-fitting.

Walking in all directions,
failing to find the way.

It's beyond this fog...
I know but I'm just not seeing.

It's like a rope,
tied in a noose and knows no fray.

Something's amiss...
and I think I'm losing.

#hellopoetry107 #amiss

ryn Sep 2017

Anaesthesia

Hours lost...
But I feel like I've gained

I felt nothing...
No recollection of the world.
No worries.
No thoughts.
No questions.
No demons.

Felt like I was dead but...
I got a morbid sense of peace,
and reassurance.
I felt bliss.

Unshackled, untethered and unbound
in those hours,
I felt one with the disconnection
from my life.

Strange and worrisome...
But I long to be caught in those
lost hours again.

#hellopoetry107 #anaesthesia

ryn Sep 2017

Night Recluse

.
crescent in the sky be my hammock

I watch with shut eyes
the twinkle trail of fairy lights

let my past be laid and lined in chalk

to usher the magic of following nights

.

#hellopoetry107 #nightrecluse

ryn Sep 2017

Percussionist

in the soundtrack of my story,
there exists a lone percussionist...
and he plays to fit
the demands of passing moments.

•••

to the calm he plays steady.
in uncertainty he hastens.
he matches the ticks of seconds
when all is quiet,
and he thunders
to crescendoes and climaxes.

•••

in the symphony of my life
there exists a lone percussionist...
and he resides unseen in my chest.

#hellopoetry107 #percussionist