ryn - Hello Poetry

ryn Dec 2017

The radio sung me a tune.
A tune made for me.
It was played soft.
It told me a story.

The melody that accompanied,
resonated with every chord.
Every word that I had heard,
struck home like a sharpened sword.

I thought, “Could it have been for me?”
Just when the tune ended.
“Is it so that I am that apparent?
For such a song to be written and dedicated.”

But I am a fool...
For thinking I am worth the scrutiny.
While being neck-deep,
in an ocean -
unalone with others plenty.

#hellopoetry107 #radio

ryn Dec 2017

Parchment

I’m parchment...
soaked with illegible ink.

Almost indelible even...
I’m soaked right to the core.

However incoherent,
I need to be written.

However impossible,
I need to be forgiven.

#hellopoetry107 #parchment

ryn Dec 2017

Closure

.
He'd arrived at the door
many times.
His fingers would always
wrap around the **** with surety
and little hesitation.

He’d pause...
Just to relish the initial sting
of the coolness
in the brass and let it
soothe the creaks in the bones
and skin on calloused fingertips.

When he was ready,
he’d twist but
his wrist wouldn't work.
Like a hinge that hasn’t seen grease,
it wouldn't comply.
It would freeze because
he is afraid...

He knows well what awaits
beyond the threshold of this doorway.
He knows of what he craves
that calls like a siren beyond the door.

But yet...
He’s afraid.
Because what he wants the most
scares him so.

And opening this door leads to...

Closure.

.

#hellopoetry107 #closure

ryn Dec 2017

Cool Night, Burn Bright

Cool night.

I feel my skin
harvesting the dew
brought by the gentle breeze.

I inhaled the frozen air
deep into my lungs
to quieten the fire
in my heart and mind.

I exhaled...
Hoping to see the smoke
from a blaze extinguished.

But I realise in the quiet
and the dark...
Given air and attention,
the tiniest of flames
burns the loudest and brightest.

#hellopoetry107 #coolnight #burnbright

ryn Dec 2017

Pottery

Of mud and clay,
drawing strength from the sun.

In the heat,
insides harden even if layers begin to peel.

But in the rain,
the shell concedes and starts to run.

All is left,
is a puddle - stagnant and bereft of zeal.

#hellopoetry107 #pottery

ryn Dec 2017

Nightcalls

Nights get heavy.
When every thought becomes a curse.
Sleep is waylaid.
When every subtle nuance you begin to nurse.

Hours grow long.
Rest becomes a dream.
Seconds start to undo...
Every stitch in every seam.

Shadows come to play,
as their dance warps your grasp.
Demons come to say...
That you’re welcomed in their sinister clasp.

#hellopoetry107 #nightcalls

ryn Dec 2017

Nocturne

.
Solemn nocturne
accompanies my night

Invisible orchestra
serenading the moon

You will sing
the chorus in this twilight

But all had ended
in a verse sung too soon

.

#hellopoetry107 #nocturne