Retreat

I cannot go outside.
They will not see.
I lock the doors and turn the world down.
Set the moon to wake me, so I can dance in the dark.
They cannot know, they should not look.
I came to disappear discretely.
The void is my own.
Yet a consequence is not from a lack.
The love and respect weighs me down more than you will ever know.
But I have to go, I have to depart.
Sailing out on silent ships that leave you all in fog.
Not a death, not a dim.
A recapturing, of self.
Until I’m stronger to hold back the waves of the world.
Stronger, to survive the sun.

18/06/202208/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: moon, ocean, seasTags: dark, deaprt, death, departure, escape, fog, life, light, moon, ocean, poem, Poetry, retreat, sea, travel, world 12 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

Direction

On this rising tide, I’ll find my light.
That pulls me back to shore.
Then leave the misery, like flotsam on waves.
And think of you no more.
For in my bones and in my eyes.
The brightness burns the dark.
And through the mist, through the pain.
For my lighthouse soul does spark.

10/11/202107/10/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: leave, pain, seasTags: art, change, flash, hope, light, lighthouse, misery, ocean, poem, Poetry, rhyme, sea, shore, wave, waves Leave a comment

The Deep (Nothing but I am)

Wednesday,

I finally sorted out those boxes today, the ones from the move. I wasn’t sure if I would be staying here long, the laziness in me took control and had left them for ages. I want to make things more ordered now, unpack my life and gain some structure. I went through the boxes, and I can see why I had left them. Photos and knick-knacks, memories and pain rolled around some of the smaller boxes inside. I had forgotten I had bundled most of it up together.

But it wasn’t all disruptive to my soul. I found the seahorse mum had brought me back from her trip to the Caribbean. There was a starfish too, but I always liked the seahorse best. It reminds me of her now when I look at it, but in a hopeful way. She may be far away, but this little item refreshes the world as a reminder she was with me, she lived and thought enough of me to bring me something she knew I would love. I miss you mum, I will see you again soon though….I’ll make the effort.

THE DEEP

Swim, with a mouthful of stars.
And kiss these lips underwater.
Pick a pearl that cloisters inside my mind.
Clutch it deep with your bones.
Washing over your heart.
Lining your veins in mother of pearl beauty.
Inside, all still wet and curious.
Like the seahorses that swim here in the shallows.
Your thoughts call to me like the sea inside a shell.
Echoing a world which wavers on the edge of temptation.
Suck the salt from my skin which slips over you.
Crush me in rapid waves of emotion.
As my fingers move to a new tide.
Parading across your body, wallowing in your deep.

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Taken from ‘Nothing But I am‘

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07/01/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: ocean, seas, starsTags: art, beauty, deep, diary, fiction, girl, mother, moving, novel, ocean, pearl, poem, Poetry, sea, water, woman Leave a comment

Extirpate>Amalgamate

Stand in the middle of the wreckage.
The galaxy of regrets wash at your feet.
All open fields.
The tidal pull within you, feasting on black waves of idealism.
You bring your dreams to god.
Such food for a hungry beast.
The wind washes away, the dirt and decay of mountainous failure.
And who really cared. Who really cried over forgotten chances?
The road just diverged.
You detoured to this place where you can feel the grass under your feet.
Grounded.
Predisposed to deletion, to erase what was the stain and the dirt.
Such grand destructions.
But now it lies, bleached into your eyes.
Hung up in the gallery of your life.
And we now admire, devouring the stories of your past.
All parts that assimilated to the messiah of the meadow.
Here. Now. Living, breathing.
Being.

26/08/202026/08/2020 by Mark Ryan Categories: change, seasTags: art, beast, beasts, care, change, eyes, horror, love, meadow, ocean, poem, Poetry, sea 6 Comments

Raining underneath

Underneath. Down here where it’s calm.
Where the black beauty of the abyss touches my feet.
All is quiet.
All is still.
I’m entombed as if in a coffin.
Locked forever in my own space
Controlling the promise of my ever after.
And then you came.
Pelting my world.
Hurtling across like a comet in my stretching blue sky.
You bring the change, flowing through like a weather system.
Flourishing my eyes open like a new season.
Calling sub-oceanic flowers to bloom within me.
Aquatic forest pines that reach up to touch the surface.
To reach and touch your face.
My hands branch to catch the light you dazzle.
A sudden rush you instill within me like heroin bubbles in my blood.
Coming up too soon, bending my compression that has kept my heart safe.
Heading for the bends.
I’m a fish not born to fly with you.
High where the birds and angels soar.
Hidden in these depths for reasons.
For sins that keep me drowned.
Now it rains under water, puddling the pool of the sea that parts us.
And I drift in the stream of sorrow.
Knowing that the rain on the surface, is really your tears.

04/06/202004/06/2020 by Mark Ryan Categories: ocean, Poetry, seas, tearsTags: blood, bloom, comets, flight, flowers, forest, love, ocean, oool, pain, poem, poems, Poetry, rain, rains, relationship, sea, seasons, sins, sky, storm, tears 18 Comments

Seahorse

The Saturn rings look like halos above you.
Don’t move, you look divine.
Around your feet the seahorses play, kicking up moon dust memories.
You find me, deep down in the Mariana trench, decaying like an old wreck.
Do not ask me to play hide and seek now, I do not know the universe as well as you.
1, 2, 3, 4…..Comets shoot across my sky, turning the blackness to fire.
I’m blinded and momentarily lost.
You paralyse me with your tongue, licking sweet sensations.
Then flicking me with words that sink in, deep into the bloodstream.
My nakedness parades in full as I stroll across the moon.
Swim to the ocean floor, swim forever more in the sea that seems beyond tranquil.
8, 9, 10….ready or not.
You found me, just north of Neptune wearing my own crown.
You say it suits you better, everything always does.
I diminish in ill-fitting clothes of the emperor. Falling into threadbare solitude.
Will the trident ever be tested? How much blood needs to flow into these craters to satisfy?
Throw me back to the tide and cast your net further afar.
Let the oceans pull you away, so I never let you plunge my Atlantis into dismay.
My pyramids will be forever mine alone, a place I can go to weep and smile.
Watching the earth follow the moon.

19/02/202019/01/2020 by Mark Ryan Categories: moon, Poetry, seas, spaceTags: angels, atlantis, emperor, game, hurt, lonely, love, moon, oceans, poem, Poetry, pyramids, sad, seahorse, seas, space, stars 16 Comments