Extirpate

Shivering into this new world.
Of a day broken over me like the sunshine egg yolk of realisation.
That an absence now fills this room.
A void as cold as winter, that settles into these bones.
Reborn into a version of such violence and void that my head aches into grey.
And my heart, slips away; into adjustment.
You folded us into memory.
A slight of hand that speaks with a voice of your reasoning.
Echoing now in my ears.
And my tears will turn to chalk.
While the plants die all around me.
A fate that flutters on my lips, like butterflies trapped in conservatories.
Glancing at the world around, but smashing again and again against the glass.
Yet still you toil and dig at the weeds of my entanglement.
That curled around you like a summer’s blanket.
And you sheer, and slice.
Digging hard at my roots.
Killing me a thousand times over.
Scratched, aged and wretched.
Praying I rot away and turn into time.

04/01/202304/01/2023 by Mark Ryan Categories: grief, hurt, winterTags: art, death, grief, loss, memory, pain, poem, Poetry, scream, skull, suffering, summer, trapped, winter 2 Comments

Loveless collision

A little, then more.
Nothing is ever enough.
In this world, where hate is king.
He’s an angel of sadness.
Watching it all from space.
Seeing molecules and indifference collide.
What remains, what took him away.
Stained with pain and cruelty.
Reigning like unlucky stars in our eyes.
Walking it back in photonic blackness.
We only leave the ground for a minute.
To spin on the atoms.
And feast, on the junk of these hearts.
With mercury in our eyes.

07/12/202224/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: angels, hurt, spaceTags: angel, anger, art, cruelty, death, hate, hearts, hurt, king, pain, poem, Poetry, science, skull, space, stars, watching 1 Comment

Cremate

Break these bones into splinters.
Snap the spine and suck the sap.
Throw the pieces on the fire.
Douse it all with distain and detriment.
Do not handle me with gloves on.
Touch me deep.
Treat me like a firework, ready to alight.
Burning through like phosphors.
Strike the match on my skull.
Crinkle and crack such emotions within.
Burning down to my heart, sending my soul to embers.
Floating into your lungs to dwell forever within.

05/11/202228/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: fire, flames, hurtTags: burn, cremate, disaster, emotions, fire, flames, love, poem, Poetry, skull, touch Leave a comment

Fought

What did they tell you about this future?
While the TV played on and you half listened.
This heart you mangled and molded.
These flowers died a long time ago.
Who is to blame?
Distance. Family.
Your fake departure, when your heart wasn’t in it.
Made all too easy for you.
Red letter days and disappointments. Plastic friends.
Those that melt in the heat while the kitchen burns.
Who dries your eyes now?
Lazarus lies, housewives. Shopping that ego.
Choking on the need to be right.
All those lies have now been tagged.
Selfish. Self-aware. Convenient amnesia.
All built on your version of events.
Apologies now that are forbidden.
Poisonous to the tongue.
Under rug sweeping.
These broken pieces of a person you once knew.
Only you.
As you blur once more into everybody else.

08/10/202218/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: argue, argument, hurtTags: amnesia, argue, argument, art, battle, blame, death, ego, fight, heart, hurt, poem, Poetry, selfish, tv, war 2 Comments

Death in Longing – Part II

He moved away the furniture.
And closed the windows and blinds.
Shutting out the world completely.
Dark visions now peppering his mind.

As the blood pooled on the kitchen table.
And the wallpaper pealed over to see.
What had started in love and tenderness.
Was now silenced from its desperate plea.

The face stared back with a knowing.
The cut lip spilling secrets and shame.
So he threw over it the yellow tablecloth.
And cried while he whispered their name.

Then he fled out into the world again.
This had not been the first nor be the last.
Yet this one had dug in much deeper.
And he swore now, it must remain in the past.

18/09/202218/09/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: death, gold, hurtTags: art, death, devil, escape, flee, gold, golden, hurt, kitchen, poem, Poetry, trauma, visions Leave a comment

Keep a light on

Those juggernauts cry to a halt.
Bearing the machines of our love, they slowly die.
Not a collide or a collapse.
I wanted to see it for myself.
To take pictures of that ruinous pageant.
The end came before the goodbye.
Lost in the arms of another.
Eyes forced shut by the glitter in the tears.
Your pain cascaded into mine.
Fading through the line, stretched over distance.
Crawling from the wreckage, I promise to keep a light.
Burning long into the night, and my own car on the road.
Blazing into the dark, offering you hope in the distance.
Where you hide all of our feelings.

20/08/202214/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: fire, flames, hurtTags: art, burn, car, collide, crash, dark, distance, end, fear, fire, glitter, hurt, light, love, night, poem, Poetry, road, tears Leave a comment

Black box

Reaching for you as earth says its goodbye.
What is this thing that takes flight.
Soaring through uncharted and terror drenched clouds.
As I look for monsters out the window.
If this plane were to fall from the sky.
Tear into the ground.
This thing wrapped in meaning.
Would it leave a hole in my heart?
Would it turn me to dust?
A fallen bird needing to fly, this thing called love.

03/08/202213/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: birds, flying, hurtTags: bird, clouds, flight, flying, heart, hurt, love, monsters, plane, poem, Poetry, skies, surreal, terror 6 Comments

Photosynthesis in retrograde

8pm. Half awake.
Sonic ringing in my skull like sonar.
Crash through your words that splinter.
Deadening my star.
Sweeping up my sparks.
Picking the petals of me into nothing.
I curl back into tomorrow.
Soaking in the dew of innocence.

30/07/202212/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: death, hurt, loveTags: art, flower, light, petals, plants, poem, Poetry, rain, sleep, sonar, sparks, star, sunshine, time 2 Comments

Best not to think about it

[You can close your eyes] He said this as the dark clouds above converged.
The smell in the rain had shifted.
[But it won’t change anything] He knew now that all they had was each other.
He pulled them in closer to him.
[Put your arms around me and hear my heart] It drummed and thumped.
Banging against his own ribs.
[I can’t cry, does that make this less real?] They asked him, their eyes damp but still.
They had such beautiful eyes.
[I think it makes it better that you don’t] His own eyes on the verge of cascade.
Pain, grief and surrender balanced on his own interior ledge.
[You know I love you though?] They turned away slightly, ashamed in the honesty.
The words looking for a shadow to hide inside of.
[I know you did once] He replied, wishing for the sun to burn all this away.
The darkness now clawing at them both with wicked intent.
[Once much less than now] They gripped on stronger, finding the muscles contract.
Feeling the soul within slosh to a gratitude that had been frozen.
[I love you more than love] He said, knowing it sounded stupid.
He could not explain how he felt, words seemed useless.
[But this is the goodbye] Such power in the ending, the fall of Rome.
No treasure to be found in the rubble, just dust and damaged bones.
[You think it’s over, that’s why it never will be] Not here, not now they thought.
We are more than this material world.
[So be strong, and be you] He prayed they wouldn’t let go of him.
But pull apart they did and must.
[Best not to think about it right?] And with that, death came on swift wings.
Yet the light can never die.

24/07/202224/07/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: ending, goodbye, hurtTags: art, clouds, ending, goodbye, heart, hurt, leaving, material, pain, poem, Poetry, rain, ribs, world 6 Comments

Investiture unfolding

A Comforting collapse.
That extreme degree of falling.
So enticing, heart is stalling.
As loose recollections of perhaps;
that I always was the king of pain.
Knowing it would always come again.
I’ll wear my own destructive crown.
Situation familiar. Characteristic breakdown.

20/07/202212/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: crown, hurt, soulTags: collapse, crown, destruction, fall, heart, poem, Poetry, rhyme, sad Leave a comment

Sovereign severity misplaced by an absence of form

Blood stained and bare.
My fingers smeared the colour of your lips.
Gripping, and clawing onto this love.
White knuckled, they’ve pulled at the loose threads.
Of a tragically imbalanced affection.
Unravelling the clothes of an emperor.
With an iron taste on the tongue.
And cold like the sun, I pull the feathers from my own wings.
Dropping them on the meandering path away from you.
Scratched by thorns, yet tied to the clouds.
Blinded by reason, and the light from surely an early death.
For the further I tread, the less I live.
Growing colder in your diminish glow.
And your indifference to our circumstance.

02/06/202202/06/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: clouds, departure, hurtTags: art, care, clouds, demise, emperor, hurt, king, lips, love, poem, Poetry, queen, roses, SOVEREIGN, threads Leave a comment

A Tragic discourse in a glorious demise

Tip the ghost honey, it likes to attract the bees.
Distracts from the different coloured tears.
That run on invisible cheeks.
Where were you when I needed you the most?
Negating our history and the whole of the 21^st century.
An incredible void, you chose not to cross.
The chasm left when you moved our luggage.
Years of mangled words and old Christmas ornaments.
Rolling around and cracking, fragile to touch.
Treasured with limitations.
With these thoughts, who needs enemies?
The echoes act like heroin.
Dipped in paraffin.
Taking me up.
Leading me to explode.
Covering you now in glitter and sad reflections.

28/05/202228/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: flames, flight, hurtTags: 21st century, art, bees, burn, christmas, drugs, flames, flying, ghost, glitter, heroin, honey, hurt, love, poem, Poetry, sad 4 Comments

Drenched in departure

Through wanderings of a hallowed heart.
Untie the science while the rain comes.
Let the silence smother you.
Or little taps of life, crash on your skin.
Blanketing this world in a quiet monsoon.
Layering and prevailing over all before.
Let it seep into those muddy bones.
Washing everything.
Purify and personifying a state of being.
Fresh like holy water.
Stinging the sins like acid.
Drown and choke underneath those silent waters.
A vast tide that you wash over me.
Those days that were always numbered.
The borrowed time and delicious decay.
How sour those words met my mouth.
When I asked you to leave.
Tying my tongue into confused states.
Separate systems and traumatic time zones.
A flight into a new world.
Where the clouds coughed around me.
And the skylarks sung our demise.
God raining down sad tears.
That had been building for some time.

27/04/202220/03/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: goodbye, hurt, seasTags: birds, bones, cry, departure, flight, heartache, holy, hurt, monsoon, ocean, poem, Poetry, rain, raining, sad, sea, seperate, storm, tears, time, timezone, travel, water Leave a comment

Inside a landslide

Confined and contracted.
Shivering inside a wall that closes in.
You hate it, but you want it.
This is what you asked for.
The quiet falling of silence and time.
Alone with only those voices.
Ringing like bells inside your skull.
Trying hard to forget.
Drowning in regret.
Stuffed inside with gum leaves and liquorice.
Padded and weak.
The future runs across like mercury.
Slipping off your skin that sheds.
Wanting it all to be real, to be over.
Hoping for a climate crises in your veins.
You wished them dead.
Instead, they fed on truth and sincerity.
Hungry are these ghosts.
Licking at such empty souls.
Trapped inside the fall of your ancient Rome.

22/04/202222/04/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: ghost, gravity, hurtTags: fall, ghost, ghosts, gravity, gum, landslide, lies, pain, poem, Poetry, rome, soul, sweets, truth 3 Comments

Eyes wet and open

Timid and quivering.
Frightened once more by the darkness.
The cave of self looms and lures.
Hissing out in words spoken from lips.
Those once thought as delicate and kissed.
Cracks appear, and the light vanishes.
Heaving of stone, that misplaced affection.
An internal echo of loneliness.
What threatens was the dismantling of love.
Held behind glass to taunt and tempt.
But never touch.
I love you, though I see the dagger.
And I fear nothing of the after.
Only the fact I shall be there alone.

26/02/202226/02/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: death, hurt, kissTags: art, death, eyes, forever, hurt, kiss, lips, love, pain, poem, Poetry, tears, words 6 Comments

Blood is thicker

The red lights blur inside my skin.
Casting reflection on the mood I’m in.
A soured feeling of discontent.
The angry ebb of self-descent.
Yet neon blood flows inside my veins.
A pumping pressure which starts to gain.
Which travels north from my deep south.
And splatters the truth from out my mouth.
Though shock is not my best intention.
Nor pain or hurt, out from this invention.
But to boldly state from strength and love.
That the only thing we share is blood.

29/12/202107/10/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: blood, family, hurtTags: art, blood, body, family, hurt, love, mouth, poem, Poetry, rhyme, saga, skin, tree, veins 4 Comments

Apathetic by design

These boys and girls, with hidden smiles and transparent trauma.
Promise nothing of tomorrow.
Selling chalky kisses in crises centres, splattered across the map.
Which you now trace your fingers across.
Finding washed out welcomes in every state.
At least those that you remember.
Your phone calls go unanswered, avoided like Monday mornings.
They move away and sigh long lamentful breaths.
Dropping almond eyes to the ground.
Feet shuffling to a sound of a country mourning.
A country held prisoner to the promises of a thief.
Now tomorrow feels scary, fluorescent feelings that fold like paper moons.
The tide turns too soon.
And you return once more to the ocean, picking the salt from your eyes.
Counting the tears that drip like a million wishes into a well.
Like the one you cast into as a child.
Shining bright like Christmas lights.
When everything seemed touched by magic.

19/12/202119/12/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: eyes, hurt, magicTags: America, art, broken, country, design, eyes, kiss, kissing, lament, magic, map, maps, moon, ocean, poem, Poetry, sad, tears, thief, travel, wishes Leave a comment

Impression of normalcy

Strained and untested.
(You’re not the only one)
Friday night and frantic.
Planned to get arrested.

They’ll pick up pieces of you in the morning.
Who flew your sanity out of here?
Drunk without a warning.
Stabs at conversations so unclear.

Saints be praised such holiness.
Washes over these tired feet.
Picked apart then slowly undressed.
This divine and damaged piece of meat.

Yet I am not here for touching.
I am not here for loving.
The stains wash out in the headache of tomorrow.
And my heart yearns only for yesterday.

08/12/202107/10/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: body, hurt, nightTags: city, drink, drugs, fun, kiss, love, night, nightlife, poem, Poetry, rhyme, sanity, sex, sin, time 2 Comments

Opium for the soul

I feel no pain. I feel nothing.
An uncomfortable numbness itching in my bones.
How your lips bring about such devastation.
Apathaites my heart and bubbles my blood.
Oh the sweet bends that rush, twisting my insides out.
You are the opium for my soul.
The novocaine for my conscience.
Which constantly waivers into unstable territory.
You keep my ghost steady as I walk this earth.
Getting high from the lows you put me under.
Feeling flight as you watch me crawl.
Love, such a compromise anyway.

01/12/202107/10/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: drugs, hurt, soulTags: addiction, addiict, art, bones, drugs, hurt, kiss, love, opium, pain, poem, Poetry, soul 1 Comment

Sometimes, only tears

Throw it away.
It hangs heavy in your hands.
A broken love all torn and heavy.
Easy to let it slip into the folds of time.
It came there suddenly, the tear in their eye.
Hanging like a beautiful jewel in the corner of the fleshy oyster.
Threatening.
Threatening to tumble, fall and disappear.
Smudge into a cheek or dripped away with fear.
The silence kisses the skin, and darkness breathes upon the neck.
An invasion hurried by the darkest forces.
Throw it away.
Wouldn’t it be better.
The pumping flower struggling to survive.
Wet with dew drops birthed in this moment.
The tears speak of a hurt, unseen yet complete.
A collapse inside like twin towers.
Don’t listen to the breaking.
How can they throw it away.
Something they cannot call their own.
Wouldn’t it be better.
If they stayed?

02/11/202102/11/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: crying, hurt, tearsTags: art, collapse, crying, ending, hurt, jewels, love, poem, Poetry, sad, tears 6 Comments

Island

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ISLAND

This fear of limitless emotion.
Washes at the shore of my soul.
I fought a war for our love.
Raging like a storm on the face of time.
And now I fall like an island in the sea.
Alone and bare.
Washed by a tide, a poison of loneliness.
Never more to welcome the sun above.
I can only skim sad pebbled tears out to you.
There on the horizon.
That sight of hope, which will never land on my coast.
I glow, and diminish through this all.
Soon nothing but a shell.
That cannot even echo the sea.

MORE VIDEO ART HERE

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16/10/202107/10/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: hurt, island, lonelinessTags: art, fight, hurt, island, lonely, loss, ocean, poem, Poetry, sad, sea, storm, war, water 5 Comments

Readying recovery

Trying to find lucidity.
Cupping thoughts in my hands.
Fallen from my eyes.
Lost treasure.
Stolen preciousness.
The soul acting like a window.
Allowing them inside to steal, to rearrange.
Feeling lost, yet knowing where I’m trapped.
Ghosts lay upon my skin.
Licking at the wounds.
Drinking them all in.
The moments and memories.
Webs of pain strung up by circumstance.
When was I ever allowed to breathe.
To feel the sun on my skin.
Without the chill from a passing cloud of consequence.
Must we break free from the circle.
Or does it allow us to begin again.
Lighter than before, once all demons are dropped.
Lifting to the sky where we once belonged.

12/10/202112/10/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: ghost, hurt, recoveryTags: angel, angels, anguish, change, flying, ghosts, hope, hurt, pain, poem, poems, Poetry, recovery, sky, weather 6 Comments

Haemoglobin

Through your bloodstream I do course.
Eating your oxygen and exploring you from within.
Until the time you breathe your last.
Picking me out with razor blades and intent.
Smearing me across the wall.
To be transfused to heaven.
Expelled to the hell without you.
A crimson coat of apathy.
Because my love suffocated.
From the inside out.

15/09/202109/08/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: blood, body, hurtTags: art, blood, body, death, end, heaven, hell, love, poem, Poetry, Razor, red 8 Comments

Vulnerable

Around our heads.
The flowers fall.
Crowning, yearning.
This history of touch.
Memory of want.
Speckles the skin.
Compressed by time.
Lost by lies.
Rusted and old now.
Tired, like a dream.
Once sold.

12/08/202111/08/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: hurt, lies, lossTags: art, care, dream, flowers, hurt, lies, loss, poem, Poetry, sad, time 4 Comments

Unconditional

Your love breaks these bones.
Though a hemisphere divides us like land and sea.
The weight of it impacts and splinters me.
A turn from you, blankets like an ocean of space.
That cold contempt you have for those you care for.
Always hurting the one you love the most.
A million miles always makes me cry a million tears.
A river of bleach stings the skin.
Carving a way down to an ocean of pain.
Unconditional.
A love over ripe and never plucked from the tree.
Blooming and baring in abundance.
There for your taking.
Mister sweet tooth.
This tree of life and love, grew from such wretched earth.
Out of mud thrown from lives ago.
It will always offer you shade and sustenance.
You would be the snake, in this garden of ours.
Yet it will remain.
I shall remain at the place of arrival.
With a heart and soul open for you till time collapses.
Unconditional is the treasure I place into your precious hands.
Treat it not like the stones in the pit of your stomach.
But more like rock broken from the seat of Sinai.
Stained in the divine.
And forever yours.

16/06/202116/06/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: distance, hurt, sinTags: distance, divine, garden, god, hurt, love, pain, poem, Poetry, sinai, snake, soul, soulmate, tears, tree, unconditional 4 Comments