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M E Ronan Dec 2020
Line of charcoal running along,
On the surface of the paper,

Same lines follows your index finger,
On the surface of my skin,

Twirling, looping,
Continuing patterns,

Outlines of my life
On both,
the paper and the skin,

One owns the body,
The other one is mine,

But both are
Wrinkled and trashed.
M E Ronan Dec 2020
In silence, in solitude
A line of people surround me
Perpetually faces protruding
Screams of turmoil falling on me
Like a pour of concrete
Permanently motions denied
Salvation lost in stillness
My existence feeding from it
Energy exuding from the hatred
Silence is lost on me
Too many talking
Cheap cynical laughter
No respite, no comfort
Lost my own voice within
M E Ronan Aug 2020
My weight in walnuts,
cracked open by the use of tools,
with adult digits too,
unlike in the past,
they keep rolling, weighing and discovered,
by curiosity, by wisdom,
no syllables without a match,
sentences make a book,
needle ***** when changing colours,
burn with over boiling,
wrong answer with equation,
exhilarating acceleration,
no need to quit or anger,
this is how it is,
your weight in walnuts.
M E Ronan Jun 2020
No thoughts to make you real,
nails clenching on my notions,
screaming without ears to hear,
perception of memories put forward
creation of scenarios torn,
oh to stop,
make myself physical,
contained within today,
to look once more,
no reasons beyond context,
you had to create a somber scene,
unsteady emotions drive hasten movements,
reasoning occurring in my racing mind,
you sank deeper into my thoughts,
fragmented comments make fuller picture,
pensive minds adhere these.
M E Ronan Jun 2020
Come with me, into the woodpecker woods,
come and see the circular paths,
gone are the leaves and the buds in the woodpecker woods,
noises, voices in the barks of the birch,
scattered feathers all over the floor,
no fruit bearing in the grove,
eyes of owls, woodpeckers in my woods,
staring, baring no clemency,
blackness and shadows they follow me,
in the woodpecker woods,
come and see, dance with me!
go and try, you’re in my path,
the forest is muted, you might be swoon,
you’ll never leave the woodpecker woods.

— The End —