Turbulent cosmic swells

Caught and spun, little one.
With moon dust charcoal delirium.
Pulled down, in gravity’s smile.
Replaced with apathetic juveniles.
Scream out, and shut down.
They still laugh, at the tears of a clown.
For you it rains, transitional pain.
A disappearing all over again.
But what if you survived it?
And what if you changed?
What if your revived it?
Cosmically rearranged.
Skywards hopeful, shooting free.
In sweet delicious wild lunacy.
Fragile youth fades in the blink of earth’s eyes.
But your stars remain, in your own private sky.

25/06/202209/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: age, stars, timeTags: age, aging, art, clown, dust, earth, freedom, galaxy, gravity, moon, poem, Poetry, rhyming, smile, space, stars 6 Comments

Drown

My youth would blow a happy breeze.
Through my heart as I devoured the world.
Now, in the debris of such smashed illusions.
I Drown in the tide of life.

16/05/202116/05/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: age, death, drownTags: death, drown, heart, life, Old, poem, Poetry, water, woman, young, youth 3 Comments

Take a bow

Nothing to fear, but the beauty unleashed.
As those velvet eyes unfurl for the world to shiver.
This collapse of an age, of a time now expired.
Blown into the dust of yesterday.
How heavy it must sit. The weight of youth.
Trapped in a moment, encased in expectations.
Those lips, sudden to crack like an earthquake.
The tuneful words scratch, like a raven’s song.
Beneath this magnitude, sits the one I love.
Grasping silently for escape.
I promise to take you away.
From it all.
From here.

12/05/202112/05/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: age, beauty, kissTags: age, beauty, escape, kiss, lips, love, poem, Poetry, travel, wander, young, youth 6 Comments

Revelation

Show the world who you are.
Dripped in honey and absinthe.
Hovering by a flame.
All parts, never the same.
As they try to push you under a reason.
A statement, a label, or part treason.
When you smash the brackets of age that constricts.
And you pull down the gods for a closer look.
They’ll see you reflect in their eyes.
Please, memorise their apology.
And wave as they pass you by.

27/02/2018 by Mark Ryan Categories: age, apology, gods, PoetryTags: age, apology, beauty, drink, flames, honey, labels, poem, poetry, society 20 Comments