lost – Havoc and Consequence

Abscence unavenged

Uncovering eyes and wavering temperance.
Tremors still reside in the soul.
In memories which shake for answers.
Alone in the nervousness.
Deliberate is god’s deliberating.
Cold, as those stones of Solomon.
With an unapologetic turn of phrase.
I’m forced to consider this new reality.
Whilst piratical angels sweep and scour.
Rushing for tiny fragments of humility.
All bones and belief.
Remains of a life cut short, yet painfully endured.
The moments grow out of my fingertips.
Time calcified in nails which scrape once more at existence.
And I lay down in such silence.
Remembering those who no longer populate this realm.
Those who breathe new atmospheres.
Tinged with golden saccharine.
I see the castle and insomnia.
And usher in absence asphyxiation, lost again of all control.

27/04/2023 by Mark Ryan Categories: angels, lonely, lossTags: angels, art, asphyxiation, bones, diamonds, existence, god, gold, lonely, loss, lost, poem, Poetry, soul, time 7 Comments

Turbulent visions of love

You rage within me. A silent storm.
A tempest with temptation to drag me through heaven.
Cutting my wrists on the divine.
I let go, disappearing into the eye of all your wonder.
Lost in your turmoil and torrential rains of change.

21/12/202226/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: love, rain, stormTags: change, desire, divine, heaven, hurrican, lost, love, lust, poem, Poetry, storm, tempest, winds 4 Comments

Distance corroded by time

Lost, feeling the way out.
Travelling through the veins of god.
Hearing that global heartbeat.
Washing away in the flow.
I want to swallow the moon tonight.
To feel the tidal shift in my stomach.
To spit out the bones of the past.
And the well-travelled memories.
I touch this earth and it feels like home.
Yet when my eyes blink open.
I am crushed by the weight of this world.
I belong here, but a million miles behind in time.
Waiting for the palm leaves and ferns to sprout in my veins.
I wish to return, yet also remain.
Eating forbidden fruit.
Running with the beasts.
Perhaps the change will come from inside.
Washing over me like conscience.
Seeing the divine in all that my eyes lay upon.
This is our home.
It is our only one.
Ninety-two million miles from the sun.

02/11/202219/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: sun, time, travelTags: bones, city, earth, god, home, lost, memories, poem, Poetry, return, space, star, sun, time, timetravel, travel, veins 6 Comments

Maddening loop

When the clothes of life don’t fit us right.
All the world hums in a headache grey.
I wish for it all to fade away.
To drown in the peace of a miracle.
Or to sleep in the air of reframe.
But life is wanton, and but an ocean of torment.
And pain is the reservoir that keeps refilling.
Washing over me, again and again

03/09/202215/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: depression, life, painTags: art, clothes, depression, grey, headache, hurt, loop, lost, mad, maddening, ocean, pain, poem, Poetry, rain, sea, waves 4 Comments

Kill the moon

How dare you illuminate and steal this heart.
You glisten there with your tide of treachery.
Luring many to the edges.
My heart was strong, yet you broke it apart.
Forcing the pieces to drift in their gravitless state.
You are a thief and a liar.
For the light you shine is not your own.
Stolen and reflected from the sun.
One that gives much warmth and life.
You are cold and capricious.
Showing different faces to all below.
Keeping your dark side at bay until it’s too late.
I wish to break free, to kill you completely.
Or at least break away from your orbit.

31/08/202215/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: moon, pain, spaceTags: art, death, galaxy, hurt, kill, lost, moon, murder, orbit, pain, poem, Poetry, space, sun, thief 2 Comments

Arrêter de tomber

Lies, they kept her from heaven.
A raging ghost of self-contempt.
Is it fake when inside there is truth?
For in the dark, all can see her tears.
Slipping into the cracks of hell.
Crying out to change.
/
Fall
Into
Heaven/Hell

11/05/202201/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: heaven, hell, holyTags: art, change, creative, despair, devil, fake, ghosts, girl, heaven, hell, lost, medusa, poem, Poetry, sad, sadness, tears, truth Leave a comment

Origami razor blades

We lost some strength we can’t replace.
The soul was bared, in places unprepared.
Fate slipped across our wrists.
Eternity flashed across our eyes.
But no demise.
Those feelings won’t ever fade.
Memories now scorched into us.
Illuminating our real selves.
I saw what I wanted to change.
And where to now?
What siren call, or ocean tide beckons.
Nothing here wants to remain.
Yet we cannot leave just yet.
Until the broken is repaired.
And the sacred is shared.
We must climb in place.
Plastering the walls with pretty views.
Painting our souls spiritual hues.
Ones that glow a beauty from within.
Showing us fragile and divine.
Folded out of angelic paper wings.
A product once more of god’s design.

07/05/202227/03/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: angels, spiritual, suicideTags: angel, beauty, change, design, divine, eternity, god, lost, ocean, paper, poem, Poetry, pretty, siren, wings 5 Comments

Bord / Edge

Debout sur cette rive une fois de plus.
Sur le bord de l’existence.
Je voussens dans le vent.
Je me sense arrosé dans le marée.
Est-ce que je me vois marcher sur cette plage?
Ou je me sens perdu dans un million de grains de sable.

–

Stand on this shore once again.
On the edge of existence.
I’m standing in the wind.
I feel watered in the tide.
Do I see myself walking on this beach?
Or feel lost in a million grains of sand.

09/04/202210/03/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: beach, death, lossTags: beach, death, decay, lost, love, poem, Poetry, sad, sand, sea, time, water, waves 2 Comments

Teraton

Feeling eternity’s pull.
Like a fishhook in the eye.
Sweaty palms and idle thumbs.
Such monsters we welcome into our lives.
What Gods we despise.
This island calls to me, in the middle of the cityscape.
Alone and volcanous, my temperament now becomes.
Changes of thought like the harrowing weather.
Laying blame like the setting sun.
You do not wait for the dark to appear.
The titan out of the depths of fear.
Into my life you shatter.
Breaking all I’ve ever known.
Asking me to reside in your temple, lighting torches;
keeping the bats and the beasts at bay.
My tabernacle heart cries out.
Waking its own monster from the core.
I bow and shudder, marking the scales that begin to appear.
And we fall and fight forever.
Grappling in the leviathan love we invoked.
Red in tooth and claw.
Knowing it will be the death of us.

05/02/202220/01/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: death, island, volcanoTags: art, city, claw, darkness, death, deep, despair, island, lost, monster, monsters, poem, Poetry, volcano 1 Comment

Muddy deep sleep

Not over, not complete.
Just fading away.
A blissful depression hung up like ruby red apples.
Strung like silly smiles on those too drunk to know.
This moment washes over, the gravity pulls you down.
Chipping out teeth like tombstones yanked from the ground.
Oh the silence that it unearths.
The faded names who hoped the future would be different.
But the future just teaches loneliness.
As a departure descends.
That long goodbye, hard on the ears but softly spoken.
Trembling in time.
Nothing really dies.
We all just fade away.
Siphoned into space.
Breathed out on earth’s asthmatic exhale.
Heaving under strain.
Replaced by things we all despise.
How we spin and sigh and scream.
Reduced to floating dust and regret.
Asleep and dormant, waiting for the nothing.
Fearing the repeat.

14/11/202114/11/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: death, depression, teethTags: apples, art, death, depression, drink, drunk, earth, gone, grave, lost, poem, Poetry, sleep, smiles, space, teeth, time 2 Comments

Ontogenesis

Eyes emptying themselves of pain.
Little pearls etched on skin.
Human rain.
I honoured my feelings.
(God knows this)
He watched as I stood for love and truth.
But my survival was determined partly by chance events.
The sound of distant drums that called to me.
The paradox of being set free.
And trapped by circumstance.
As you turned away, I turned to you.
It was all I could, to catch my breath.
Like a swimmer turning their head.
The words landing like bombs on my heart.
The silent words, that you never spoke.
Just letting me depart.
Now I breathe deeper.
With this dignity to drape across my soul.
In the quiet solitude I find it fits me well.
Cocooning my deeds.
That will burst forth.
Freeing this butterfly, from its spider’s web.

31/08/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: butterfly, escape, loveTags: butterfly, escape, evolve, free, freedom, growth, hurt, lost, love, ocean, poem, Poetry, sea, strenght, strong Leave a comment

What you find inside

It’s not like they could tell he’d been crying.
Pomegranate tears had evaporated on his cheeks.
Left to circumstance and suspicion.
The usual vulnerability crept in like the cold.
He’d wanted to disappear.
Pull his bones from this earth and take the plane westward.
But that knowing.
That fundamental chorus of doubt kept him seated.
Wounded and defeated.
The table was set for him and god now.
A devil on his shoulder painting the walls in his mind red.
Each word that drifted from his mouth.
Drew out feathered lines of inquiry and distaste.
In the mouths and minds of others.
With that future transparency, walking away again.
It was like, schoolyard mornings and lost mittens.
Passing cares, wrapped in their own silence.
The truer placed words that smelled ugly.
Circling the whole.
An inevitable destination, posing as something great.
Through distinction and the dying light, he now understands.
He was never greater than.

25/08/202125/08/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: crying, lost, tearsTags: art, crying, flight, light, looks, lost, minds, people, poem, Poetry, sad, school, suspicion, tears, travel 13 Comments

Beauty lost at the heron house (Redux)

BEAUTY LOST AT THE HERON HOUSE

The world collapsed in thirty seconds there.
A beauty aged in a moment while the rose petals died.
Who faded into the future, without the knowledge of the past?
We all did.
We came once to that spot, to watch the herons dance.
To see how they cast their wing’s against a backdrop of stars.
Through tears we watched them fly, soaring along our fingertips.
But we did not know, or care to wonder;
if they’d ever return.
And the days folded into years while the crows walked across our faces.
Milking our eyes to the blurred canvas before us.
Sight dancing into all but silhouettes.
What was destroyed there, at the Heron house?
Was it love? Was it power to hold in the wells of your hand?
Surely love never dies. Love always saves the day.
But beauty was lost forever there.
When it was valued more than gold, in hearts that feared to fly

Comes back to then (redux)

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

Crawling back to the sea

Did I miss the Milky Way?
Seeping into my bones while I sleep.
Creeping over my soul like a love I can’t keep.
Forgetting how this feels.

If I am nothing but confused, then I know.
I know what I must do.
I welcome in the deportation.
Listening at the water’s edge.

The primitive sound of the sea of tranquillity.
Lapping at my soul.
An ocean of storms.
Propagating emancipation.

So annotate my departure now.
Hang it on your wall and drink it from your coffee cup.
Diminished and exonerated in your eyes unfit for the surface.
They would pop under the pressure of it all.

Like the path I tread. Or the self I give away.
Where is the road I follow? The crater to jump?
I told you before about the universe at my doorstep.
But I know you wanted me to be wrong.

All along.
But you forgot how to swim.
So I shoot myself across this space and walk into the sea.
And you can fall down to your knees.

19/05/202119/05/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: moon, space, starsTags: departure, emanipaction, galaxy, leaving, lost, lunar, moon, ocean, poem, Poetry, RATER, shoot, space, stars, time, universe 2 Comments

Nuclear

Empty and scorched. Your fingerprints all around me.
The metal heart buckles as it burns.
A hollowed out feeling.
A holocaust beginning.
That day you left, the skies got dark.
Which substance feeds this pain?
Gasoline for despair, welled in the pit of truth.
Nuclear burns and white light.
The spreading pain of a headache that never fades.
Brought on by crying deep into the night.
The day masked in the dark. A perpetual darkness.
Here, nothing grows.
Inside the husk, no flowers will bloom again.
This skin is toxic.
This mind now rotten.
And empty shade of loss.

10/05/202110/05/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: hurt, pain, warTags: bomb, day, heartache, holocaust, hurt, light, lost, nuclear, pain, poem, Poetry Leave a comment

Seems forever lost?

We do not fade when you close your eyes.
Etched in stone, carved in lies.
Beneath those words please sympathise.
Something starts, when something dies.

And though it seems we’re miles apart
I commit to god for the pain to depart.
When megaliths fall, freedom starts.
And so will heal, your blackened heart.

08/09/201908/09/2019 by Mark Ryan Categories: eyes, freedom, heart, lies, PoetryTags: active, art, change, darkness, death, departure, dies, eyes, freedom, heart, hurt, lies, lost, megaliths, pain, poem, Poetry, rhyme, start 4 Comments

Tag: lost