Reveal

The suffering of fools.
With each new day they add their stain.
A clogging to the air that you breathe.
Beneath the end, that’s where they’ll find you.
So strong and complete.
Underneath.
You want it all so badly.
This revelation to tomorrow.
To be remembered and loved for the skeleton inside.
As you bathe in a bath of bleach.
And rinse your soul with turpentine.
Uproot the dirt and the dark that keeps you hidden.
That keeps you displayed for a world of passer-by’s.
This great reveal, behind the curtain.
Under the skin.
Is the world you live in.

15/10/202218/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: body, dark, strengthTags: art, bones, dark, empowerment, fake, hidden, motivation, paint, poem, Poetry, portrait, reveal, self, soul, strength, tomorrow, underneath 2 Comments

Black box

The block box held a human heart.
Clothed in bone and skin.
And within, through poked out holes.
It watched the world come and go.
Locked away for their own safety.
Hidden from sight to save the pain.
For love had ruined him time and again.
Threatening and early grave.
It hides a world you would not want.
Nor a state you would ever wish to be.
The eyes, maddened, would bore a hole.
The heart, saddened, choked off from love.
Source of its life.
The black box sits in the corner.
The insides slowly rotting.
But the mind, never forgotting.
The one that put him there to begin with.
And the one who would join him there in the end.

27/08/202230/08/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: dark, death, sadTags: art, black, coffin, dark, death, ending, heart, hurt, insane, life, mad, pain, poem, Poetry, sad 1 Comment

Nothing wrong here

Dressed in those emotions.
Wore the role you wanted.
Let it drip like turpentine.
You showed me your Jesus scar.
And I cut through the confusion.
You leave me buzzing like a motel sign.
Only you could scratch me that deep.
Rush through me like amphetamines.
What did they say when you returned?
Did you make it feel so numb?
Feasting on cartilage and present tense.
Pronouns and words unspent.
Yet the dark offered such shelter and shadows.
Calling you back to another brilliant night.
Where you looked ahead.
Seeing us there.
Stepping over the bodies of others.
To Look me in the eye.
Celebrate me deep.
They all wanted to be wrong.
Singing up their symphony of sorrow.
For a loss that had not yet begun.
Bone and cheek.
Questioning our mortality as you trim the fat.
All conquering weirdos.
Letting the unknown collapse in quiet apathy.

24/04/202224/04/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: dark, drugs, skeletonTags: collapse, dark, drugs, emotions, hurt, love, motel, night, poem, Poetry, scars, time, weirdo Leave a comment

A Broken version

These roots, once wrapped up in cotton.
Fade and break to a summer forgotten.
They twist and scorn in a marauders bed.
Feasting on lies within that head.
And wake tomorrow black and rotten.

02/03/202211/02/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: dark, death, fearsTags: age, art, bed, black, death, dementia, end, forgotten, haunt, light, man, mental health, Old, poem, Poetry, roots, rotten, summer 1 Comment

I came to disappear

Through wanderings of a hallowed heart.
That blesses the soil it treads upon.
Within it tolls a silent bell.
Which calls for time and distance.
And leave me not in that harried place.
Of ill begotten souls and woe.
That race about like dying rats.
And burn the imaginative pith to shadows.
We come alone, and all in pieces.
Figuring out where it all began.
I came out of the dark,
Yet too close to the sun.
Struggling to find a path.
Now watch me disappear.

27/05/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: dark, light, lostTags: art, darkness, death, disappear, dying, earth, journey, light, lost, path, poem, Poetry, shadows, siol, sun, time 2 Comments