fall – Havoc and Consequence

Doubtful conviction

How brazen you stand before me.
Tall like the pillars of salt.
Solid tears of discomfort.
Feathered scars which belie the much contemplation.
Demand, yet deferring all responsibilities.
For a soul in crises.
My unwavering yeses, let you climb this tower of babel.
As your skin toughened and the callouses were caused.
Across your heart.
What you demand, I will not give.
As you move through lineage, an acorn into a king.
All parts that I once loved, and secretly still do.
Still.
Symptoms of a revelation, breathing beneath.
You force my hand, quoting paradoxical scripture.
With borrowed hypocritical teeth.
The milk makes way for honey, and my walls begin to fall.
Paralysed with selective objectivity.
How could I refuse?
Nothing left to lose.

02/05/2023 by Mark Ryan Categories: change, god, heavenTags: angels, art, change, fall, god, heaven, honey, love, milk, paradise, pillars, poem, Poetry, revelation, teeth, trust, uncertainty 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

Allow the undoing

Paradise falls, as we bury the feathers.
A crumbling collection of corroded attempts.
The remains of Babel mixed with the tears of God.
Never for me, only by your design.
Crafted out of an ego that you can never resign.
You lay siege on me with it.
Tapping at my glass heart.
Rapping into my bloody soul.
The storm around bellows.
Shaking the fragile shelves where I placed our love.
Like water in a vase, the love flows over.
Shaken by the ground swell and anger.
The sloshing an slashing make way.
Like a parade of sad elephants from your mouth.
Unravelling the red.
Undoing the gold.
I sit without a crown, without a king or queen by this side.
Eating the apples so justly plucked.
Watching it all swarm and swell.
Rip and rampage through it all.
Watching Rome burn and the walls fall.
Smiling, like mockingbirds in the dawn.
Allowing the earth to suck the air away from me.
Knowing this is truly a beginning.
Seeing the light once more reflected in tomorrow’s song.

06/05/202206/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: crown, debris, tomorrowTags: art, birds, crown, destruction, earth, fall, god, gold, king, poem, Poetry, queen, rome, tomorrow 4 Comments

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

The Fall will kill us both

Walking on this wire.
I see the sea below us.
Cool and deep like the thoughts of mother earth.
Take my hand.
There is nothing to catch us if we tumble.
Down into the shark filled ponds of loneliness.
Scattering petals of our bloom.
Where our bones will turn to coral.
And you will dig down into the sand.
Foot follows foot as we walk.
Inching along the eggshell laden rope.
Banana skin memories drop like raining frogs.
I profit from my certainty.
These plagues are temporary.
Hold me if I slip.
I will catch you if you stumble.
Walking on this wire, we must be careful.
Because the fall will kill us both.

27/10/202107/10/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: heights, hope, relationshipTags: art, bible, birds, coral, earth, fall, heights, hope, love, ocean, poem, Poetry, sharks, water 2 Comments

A Matter of urgency

A slow decline.
That pushes our fingers to the edge.
To find a place more sublime.
Than the tapping keys forever misplaced.
For these bones will crumble, fall and fade.
While the universe will keep on spinning.
Its murky waters in which to wade.
Find the end of that new beginning.
Your fast ascent.
Existence spent.

18/08/202102/08/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: end, fate, lifeTags: bones, computers, decline, fade, fall, gone, poem, Poetry, rhyme, space, universe, work Leave a comment

Death in neutral

Death comes, not in the sudden felling of your tree of life.
That monumental crash in the wooded realm of existence.
Or in an avalanche of silent demise,
Crashing into white off a precipice that follows a climb.
Death never leaves a new life.
It breathes silently on your skin.
Like a misty voice, cold and condensed.
Dew dropping its pain along the way.
Watching as your petals of life fall.
A new one each day.