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Oct 7 · 531
Tethered
ryn Oct 7
Cut me loose

     from these strings

          that bind.


So I might again

     exercise the freedom

          of mind.
Oct 5 · 212
Chronicle
ryn Oct 5
Chronicle these breaths.
And lay them naked
on paper - for the world
to see and judge,
like you know you should.

Dissect them...
With the sharpness
of your scalpel-like thoughts,
like you always would.

Fall in love with them.
Tag them with unspoken words
all too familiar.
Then cast them unto me...
When you finally know you could.
Oct 3 · 548
Skipping Stones
ryn Oct 3
I am but a stone
just skipping across a body of still.
I get a taste
yet never fully drenched.
Not until I lose all momentum
and mobility - I sink.

Submerge...

And then drown.
Sep 13 · 546
Awaiting Her Return
ryn Sep 13
A vessel set sail.
In the early call of day.
She lurched and bobbed,
as she moved across the bay.

From bow to stern
acknowledged by the morning light.
Her dew stained deck
- proof of restful slumber in the night.

With the earth’s fresh breath,
its majestic sail bloated full.
Her mast spoke in creaks
as wind and current made its pull.

A lone seafarer stood motionless.
His eyes squinted in the sun.
Deft hands on the wheel
as they steer and run.

Just out of the cove,
she’s now far off and seemingly small.
A silhouette about to disappear,
I await its return, when the sun begins to fall.
Sep 12 · 502
Into the Sun
ryn Sep 12
Walk,
as far as these feet will take me.
Moving with deliberateness,
laden with calculated purpose.

And knowing that every time each foot
successfully meets the earth,
I would always be somewhere new.

Each step would feel perhaps
unfamiliar ground,
shed new light, see fresh faces
and experience different days.

As long as I stay loyal to the course...

Always moving...
Walking,

into the sun.
Sep 2 · 856
Submission
ryn Sep 2
Open mind

but closed doors.

Take my breath.

And make it yours.
Aug 29 · 710
Inking
ryn Aug 29
Force not,
the coming of the ink.

Judge not,
what you feel and think.

•••

Then put nib to paper
and make your mark.

Let what flows
be brazen and stark.
Aug 3 · 605
Release
ryn Aug 3
The exhale is a relief
as the heart in my ear
slips subtly away;
back into the emptiness
in the dark.

So again I fill my chest.
And I’d fill it full.
Again and again.
Until then comes
a deathlike sleep.
Aug 2 · 813
Maim
ryn Aug 2
The words weren’t daggers.
Weren’t meant to ****.

They were spindly,
like needles.
But barbed.
So they latch.

I’m not grievously wounded.
Yet I’m still bleeding out...
Aug 2 · 383
Visitor
ryn Aug 2
Open doorway
and there you stand, backlit.
Only feet away
yet too many steps too far.

A heavy veil of shadow
draped over your face.
Stand there, forever,
as I try to discern who you are.
Jul 29 · 846
Off
ryn Jul 29
Off
Strings taut in my head
Set haphazard side by side
Detuned and off key
Jul 28 · 434
Holding My Breath
ryn Jul 28
Seconds pass
into an overbearing silence.

Holding my breath...

A lull in my chest -
nothingness that
seemed to stretch into forever.

•••

Just a bit more...
before the lungs would relent.

And the heart would speak again.
Jul 16 · 555
Beautiful Sound
ryn Jul 16
Taking in this breath.
My chest would rise to its peak.
And at its crest I'd count the seconds...

Shhh, I hear my heartbeats -
sure but muffled as if enveloped
by a heavy blanket of the quiet
in the night.

A beautiful sound -
this clock in my body makes.
Whispers promises of continuity,
possibility and hope.
Jun 13 · 1.2k
Revive
ryn Jun 13
I proffer words
in an apology.

In hopes
they may turn the tide.

Akin
to the release of white doves.

So I might revive
a notion that’ve died.
May 17 · 946
Chance
ryn May 17
Calm me down
        with the
               pitter patter of raindrops.

Whisk me away
        with the
               scent of petrichor.

Entice me
        with the
               promise of chance.

Lift me up
        with the
               hope of an open door.
Apr 17 · 931
Savoury Sweet
ryn Apr 17
Do you relish the sound of the spoken word?

Do you savour the way it engulfs the senses
in a whirlwind of joy and despair?

Anguish and patience...
Doubt and surety...
Land and sky...
Beauty and darkness...

Do you drink it up to a stupor,
and only hope you had the laden voice
to even emulate a fraction of the splendour...

The tiniest spark of the genius
that comes so easily for those
who are one with themselves?

It's the honesty and truth.
The seed that resides within
the covering of sweet or bitter flesh.
The meaning and purpose behind every emotion,
thought...
and spoken word

- that has me ensnared

always...
Mar 23 · 1.9k
Day’s End
ryn Mar 23
Mighty palette
in the sky.
Feast of pastel colours
of sundown.

Nestbound birds
sang up a cry.
Alone I sat,
grass-crested mound.

Inhale a breath,
exhale a sigh...
Pocket of bliss,
peace on earthly ground.
Mar 6 · 1.1k
Van Winkle
ryn Mar 6
•high in the
mountains, he grew we-
ary                 and ragged•
•                     his sight turned
                           cloudy, chin un-
                             shaven and face hag-
                                    gard•removed his boots
                                    for his feet did stink•
                                  sleep he wanted but not
                                without a drink•one big
                              swig and he downed it all•
                        then he was asleep before the
                      sun could fall•many days visited,
             many shadows cast•over this slum-
     bering man, many moons had passed
•one fateful day, his eyes did twitch
and then did open•he sprung aw-
ake to the life he had forsaken•his
musket dusty, his clothes in di-
sarray•his chin - a long beard
that has seen countless days•he
ran to his home before noontime
chime•he found only disbelief, for he had slept




a lifetime•
Mar 5 · 904
Clockwork
ryn Mar 5
A nighttime recess.

An awareness embedded
within the thickened folds,
layered - one upon another.

Second upon second.
Minute over minute.
Hour after hour.

Rendering me unheard
and vague.

A stream of consciousness
that runs uncaptured.
Unexplained and unreasoned.

Consistent and tiresome.
Haphazardly predictable.

Routine like
                      clockwork.
Mar 5 · 1.8k
Voiceless
ryn Mar 5
What he didn’t say
with voice,
he spoke clearly
with tears
that never left

his eyes.
Feb 11 · 1.8k
Mines
ryn Feb 11
Grudges are
emotional mines.

Set to go off
at the slightest...
..........
.........
........
.......
......
.....
.­...
...
..
.
                    BOOM!!!
Feb 9 · 754
A Day Amongst Many
ryn Feb 9
This day is just a day.

A day that shines bright
outside my window.

I could see the unburdened footfalls
of passersby -
with their voiceless chattters,
and spring-loaded gait.

I could feel the warm breeze,
greeting my face as I stood
by the window, enjoying
its play round my hair and ears.

I could smell and taste
the crisp air - laden with chances
and opportunities.
Available, accessible and within reach.
Only if one so desires
to grab at them.

This is just a day.
One amongst many
that I had failed
to be a part of.
Feb 7 · 635
Introspecting
ryn Feb 7
If these fingers touched ink,
let what flows be
untainted and true;
unsmeared and sure.

If these hands mould clay,
let what is made be sturdy.
Be uncracked,
unblemished
and smooth like porcelain.

If this body pivots upon legs,
let it stand upright and tall.
So no wind could fell it down.
But should it topple,
let no earth will it shatter.

If this mind invites another,
let no thought nor idea
adulterate its own...
For its ways may wind
and meander,
but it is obstinate.

If this heart still beats,
no matter how faint...
Let its rhythm be steady
and unrelenting.
So it might echo
through long days
and moonless nights
to find others like it.

Then,
I may not feel so alone.
Feb 6 · 1.3k
Sugar
ryn Feb 6
Promise
and action
must go
hand in hand.


Because
sugared words
are much
too brittle.
Feb 3 · 631
Daydreaming
ryn Feb 3
I often see myself...

Sitting in the shade
of a lone old tree
set in the middle of a field,
on a warm, breezy afternoon.

Leaning upon the trunk,
I’d feel its gnarly bark
gently pressing into the softness
of my back.
Making it seem as though
in turn, the tree, too,
leaned on me.

As my fingers play
with the tips of grass
that grew lush around me,
I’d think of people I know.
And whom amongst them
would share this joy like I would.

I would spend many moments
concocting poetic lines in my head;
As my eyes trace the haphazard
flight of butterflies.

An occasional gust would come
and sweep up
the fragrance of nature into the air.

I inhale...

Sweetness...

It lingers strong for a brief moment
before receding into the folds
and blending in with the smell
of the earth and freshly trodden on
grass.

Such a day would only induce
calmness and peace.
Such a thought would seem too far
to grasp.
But such a dream keeps me
hoping.
Jan 31 · 946
Endgame
ryn Jan 31
We all negotiate this precipice
In a file towards the same.

Some walk, some tiptoe.
We do it in our own way.

We all roll the dice.
We all progress different,
when we play this game.

But in the end we’d be together...
Sharing the ground we shall sparsely lay.
Jan 28 · 1.4k
Leaves
ryn Jan 28
They say we are but leaves.

Unwittingly we waiver
with the slightest caress from the sun.
With excitement we shudder,
when given a sliver of attention
from the moon.
And we rustle
with childlike glee,
when the daytime breeze
whispers its secrets playfully.

We dance, gambol and frolic...
As we celebrate our flightiness of spirits
in exuberant jubilee.

Because today...

We are welcomed here.
We are children of the world.
Seedlings of the universe.

And we revolve around a nucleus,
an anchor,
a steadfast tree..

That is you...
Jan 23 · 997
Taking Chances
ryn Jan 23
Are we worthy
of passing eyes

Do we catch
the stealing glances

Will we save
our world from demise

Can we not
be afraid of taking chances
Jan 23 · 1.2k
Crutch
ryn Jan 23
Will you be the ears?
The ears to my words.

Will you be the eyes?
The eyes to my falls.

Will you be the shoulder?
To which I depend on.

Will you be the listener?
And hear my calls.
Dec 2018 · 1.3k
Fishing
ryn Dec 2018
Proverbial rod
cast into the night

With hope and longing
dangled as bait

Encapture what answers
hidden from sight

Time’s almost up,
as dawn awaits at the gate
Dec 2018 · 2.6k
Q & A
ryn Dec 2018
Come morning
their innocent eyes would ask
the most difficult of questions.

My heart would stall.
My tongue would stiffen.

And my eyes would answer back
with tears.
Dec 2018 · 774
Deep Sleep
ryn Dec 2018
The quakes in my breath when I sleep,
I hear they’re frightening.

Yet I never do wake...

The jerks in my muscles when I sleep,
I hear they’re startling.

Yet I never do wake...

The beats in my chest when I sleep,
I hear they’re disconcerting.

Yet I never do wake...

Perhaps it’s because I was at my most comfortable.
Dec 2018 · 1.3k
Balance
ryn Dec 2018
Do not fear the shifting sand

under the weight of your feet.

For you may not know balance,

without the test of instability.
Dec 2018 · 1.1k
Biding Time
ryn Dec 2018
I await such time,
my toes would dig.
And spear deep into the earth;
take root and keep me planted.

I await such time,
when my trunk -
my core would regain its strength.
So that I wouldn’t sway
too easily in the wind.

I await such time,
my bark would thicken -
like carapace upon the flesh.
So I may be protected
from scathing lashes
of ravenous tongues.

I await such time,
my branches would reach up
with unwavering conviction.
Knowing the clouds in the sky
would be the cushion and salve
to my gnarled digits.

And I await such time,
my leaves would finally sprout
and green.
Then they could rustle
and whisper the tales and hopes
of my past, present and future.
Dec 2018 · 1.1k
Paths
ryn Dec 2018
We must look at
the paths we traverse.

For they meander...

Some would loop.
Some would cross.
Some puncture boundaries.
Some stay safe.

So,
look at the paths
we choose to travel.
Because some may take some.
Others may take it all.
Nov 2018 · 984
Mirage
ryn Nov 2018
These hands...
Cast of clay.

Had basked in the sun.
Deepened lines marked their faces
and enlarged cracks marred their backs.

Rough and matured.
They spoke the language of old
and hid the ancient ruins of the past.

Held together.
Side by side,
they clenched the fantastical ideals of today.

However,
uncertain and pulled apart...
The future just falls away - a ghost.
A mirage that eludes grasp and capture.
Nov 2018 · 1.3k
Weep
ryn Nov 2018
Back of her hand
ran across the red on her lips.

Smearing what once was delectable.

Attempted to wipe the drops
which quickly turned to rivulets,
running black down her cheeks.
Nov 2018 · 4.8k
Sunshine
ryn Nov 2018
O beautiful sunshine, may you beam
On a dishevelled soul as it may seem
Reach for the deepened crevices
Let light illuminate the darkness

O beautiful sunshine, may you bathe
Upon a weepy morn that wished you’d save
Let no mossful stone be left unturned
Let there be hope to those left spurned
Nov 2018 · 1.3k
Yesterday’s Eyes
ryn Nov 2018
A new day
would come,
in all it’s dew-scented glory.

And I would rise...

But with yesterday’s eyes.
Nov 2018 · 913
Vertigo
ryn Nov 2018
Weakened knees
on firm, hard ground.

Futile footfalls
on sinking sand.

Dazed and confused
by the sights and sounds.

Losing balance
in familiar lands.
Nov 2018 · 2.2k
Bloom
ryn Nov 2018
So that my fist
would relent and bloom
like a flower
given rain and sun.

So that one day
it might unfurl
to willingly take what comes.
Nov 2018 · 976
Enter
ryn Nov 2018
And I’ll show you
fantastical things.

Come into my head.

Know my wants
and desires.
Witness the height
and raging fires.
Nov 2018 · 836
Incapacitated
ryn Nov 2018
My eyes can only scream

what my voice could not.

And my soul would only break

when my bones wouldn’t.
Nov 2018 · 613
Melancholy
ryn Nov 2018
There is a song that I sing tonight.
Every night...

A song made out
of the sighs in my breaths.

Words heavy and laden
from the weight of my thoughts.

A tune forlorn - from the wrenching
of the heart.

A song that I’ve taken to.
A song I titled “Melancholy”.
Nov 2018 · 829
On Fire
ryn Nov 2018
None could have foreseen

a time so dire.


For he is the man

who set himself on fire.
Nov 2018 · 867
Loud
ryn Nov 2018
Read between the lines.


You’d find that the words
left unwritten
would scream
the loudest.
Nov 2018 · 693
Opening Doors
ryn Nov 2018
Finally trying doors.
      Looking for spaces that would have me.
        Looking for spaces that’d fit.

Most knobs...
                       Cold.

   They haven’t been touched in a while.
I’ve never bothered to try them.

     They’d probably would open up to empty spaces.

How fitting...
     An empty space for an empty soul.
Nov 2018 · 786
Him
ryn Nov 2018
Him
I have depression.

I suspect I’ve had it for a long time.
It’s only recently I accepted it.

Having this,
is like have an insufferable house guest that just wouldn’t leave.
He was never invited.
I don’t even know why he’s even here.

He’s very persuasive.
He tells me things and shows me what I perceive to be my true value.
I know he likes it here and I’ve had him for so long that I have found strange comfort having him around.

At times, he may slip away without
me even knowing.
But at times, he’d show up.
He’d make a grand entrance.
He’d fuss.

But I’d still wouldn’t realise.

These days,
people know I’m not alone.
People know of him.
People read and watch videos of him.
I applaud them for trying to understand him.
And our relationship.

But it saddens me and it fuels him when the aids don’t do him any justice.
They just allow people to think they know better.
They think they’ve been educated and can start to administer help.
They assume that you’re not heeding their advice.
They think you don’t even try.

But again I applaud them...
For trying so very hard.

This is me and I have a house guest that I’m sincerely trying to manage.



I have depression.
Oct 2018 · 2.5k
Keep Me Safe
ryn Oct 2018
Keep me safe.

Keep me unseen
from eyes that ask incessantly.

Keep me from questions
with answers that reveal too much.

Keep me dignified.
Keep me filled what little I have left.

Keep me sane.
Keep me the same.
Keep me collected.

Keep me close.
Keep me comforted in my sleep.

Keep me from harm.
From the monsters in my bed.
From the demons in my head.


Keep me safe...
Oct 2018 · 529
Dishonesty
ryn Oct 2018
I haven’t been honest.

I haven’t been for many years.

Like a skill out of practice,
I don’t know how to.

Especially to myself.
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