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

Dusty comets

Lost compass, sliding off a map.
The ends of the world, as the world ends.
Jettisoning everything of surplus.
Keeping only what is sacred.
What is precious.
I leave a trail, across the sky like a distant dream.
Exploded into nothing, vanished as the night rolls over.
Yet locked in the DNA that rains down.
Are memories and fragments of this soul.
Particles of god and echoes of love.
Like you I am no longer.
And without you, I am nothing once more.

05/03/2023 by Mark Ryan Categories: soul, space, starsTags: art, comets, death, decay, end, fire, love, night, poem, Poetry, soul, space 13 Comments

Falling back down to earth

Opening eyes that weigh like destiny.
The light snaking across my pupils.
Dilated and deliberate.
Here again, in the now.
Shaking the dream which clings like reality.
A sudden realisation that it is.
Where have you gone?
Ghost-covered and longing.
Needing you more than ever.
I cup your spirit into my arms.
Breathing empty air and memories that I pluck from yesterday.
Maybe longer back, when the drugs hadn’t taken hold.
You, smiling at everything.
Lost in nothing, yet all so important.
We peel you back onto our lives.
Hoping you transfer.
Coat and remain, like precious DNA.
Hoping, against hope, that you can stay.

24/02/2023 by Mark Ryan Categories: angels, death, dnaTags: angel, art, death, dna, drugs, earth, grief, hope, loss, love, poem, Poetry, remain 10 Comments

Beauty

Now it holds me, now it speaks.
Crumbling the skin away to see what’s underneath.
Cupid kill me, cupid teach.
Beyond the heavens, with the devil at my feet.
I want to heal you, I want to kiss.
To consume the time that threatens abyss.
For in this moment your beauty lies.
Inside my heart, my hands and eyes.

29/01/202313/01/2023 by Mark Ryan Categories: beauty, kiss, loveTags: abyss, art, healing, heaven, kissingkiss, love, poem, Poetry 5 Comments

Internal/central

This illuminating version.
Drifting.
Loving, only when the time is right.
When it’s uncalled for.
Who knew?
Who cared?
A scorched soul while the film played on.
And all roads led to the same.
Your heart curdled up tight.
Wearing out my mind.
Melting the plastic of the world we once inhabited.
Central now.
Gaining control of a need that was needed.
Crazy, only to know we were always driving.
Using our knees to steer.
Hoping to crash and burn.
In a beautiful all consuming fire.
So central to our survival.

22/01/202311/01/2023 by Mark Ryan Categories: fire, life, loveTags: art, crash, crazy, fire, llove, love, poem, you Leave a comment

Tender

Like the night.
Soft velvet expanse.
Reaching through time.
Through misty eyes which open wide.
They devour me.
In a kiss that kills me.
Over and over.
Yet tenderly I swim down.
Passing jagged words you keep inside.
Released, only to the moon.
As you howl them into nothingness.
For tender is your way.
Sweet bruises of affection which stay,
within us forever.
As we nestle into the tender wings of love.
Slipping into time.

15/01/202310/01/2023 by Mark Ryan Categories: animals, kiss, loveTags: animals, feathers, kiss, kissing, love, poem, Poetry, space, swan, tender 9 Comments

Subconsciously motivated to euphoria

Tell me more about this place where the flowers grow.
Darkness, you say, is but a dream spun in fractured states.
That has little place there.
These flowers, they sparkle like crystals under sunlit ponds.
Inviting us to dive for mislabeled treasure.
There was but a crack on my mind.
Nothing really, but would it matter?
If that fracture, grew worse and worse.
Not there you say, that place it heals.
Swaddling all in divine clouds of relief.
Keeping the broken pieces of the shell in place.
And the mind where it belongs.
What use of the heart then?
The heart it seems is praised.
Raised up high like a crown.
The land vibrates under soft understanding.
While love sews tapestries of tales, and memories together.
They are there too, you know they are waiting.
How could an angel not sit at the throne.
Heaven?
No, not yet. The safer place inside your soul.
Where you barely tred.
I don’t want to stain it all with coatings of yesterday.
These things will be washed away, only lessons remain.
Who can go?
All are welcome.
When can I leave?
You’ve already left.

31/12/202228/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: angels, flowers, happyTags: angels, art, flowers, happy, heaven, joy, light, love, mind, poem, Poetry, safe, soulmate, sunshine, travel, wellness 6 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

Happiness obligation

A truthfulness we promised ourselves to be.
Thine soul entwined.
Cracked butterfly wings of gold.
Yet the oil got their first.
But we can shake the Texas tea from our mouths.
And sore higher into the moon shaped sky.
This crowning.
A deep reverence for the promise we made.
That were whispered into our ears when we came.
Sweet words like honey into milk.
We can avoid the fault lines that threaten like an injured bird.
Dragging our horizons down.
Pull up your crown, and remember the happiness we sung.
Wrote poems and lyrics to in our heart of hearts.
Take the hand that hurts, and heal with a severed ego.
A beauty that we owe to ourselves.
An apology just for you.
A remembering of the happiness we deserve.

18/12/202217/12/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: butterfly, gold, happyTags: art, butterfly, earth, gold, happiness, happy, love, moon, night, poem, Poetry, treasure, wealth 4 Comments

Rescued by the enemy

Truth hidden in a liar.
Like drowning petals.
Pearls covered in dirt.
Beauty sunken to unfathomable depths.
Those eyes are like black ponds.
Revealing nothing, reflecting all.
Does this light shine back?
Does it tweeze anything from your hidden soul.
You have our love now trapped.
Stored away and silent.
Vanished for all the world not to see.
I know that goodness lies inside your shell.
A bravery that can rise above the fog of this war.
Yet it is impotent and quiet.
Buried in the sand of time passed.
Like those ever-elusive weapons of mass destruction.
It cannot be found.
But I know it’s there, next to your beating heart.
The sea lion awaiting the time to roar.
And break through the waves of this pain.

03/12/202224/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: love, war, waterTags: animals, art, fight, lion, love, ocean, poem, Poetry, relationship, sea, time, war, weapons Leave a comment

Begin the begin

Falling freeways that collapse like thunder.
Splattering dust into my open heart.
The sun shines on.
Blanketing our eyes with dizzying despair.
That road was to the sea.
The ocean that promised such departure.
The great wide expanse that echoed home.
So we look above.
Counting trails and streaks across the sky.
Fighter jets and passengers making their escape.
Crawling, flying and fretting to other cities.
Other sights of wonder.
My mind melts into now and I collect my possessions.
All packed into one golden shell that I carry in my pocket.
It whispers your name.
It breathes your air.
Cinnamon cords that play forever on my lungs.
I crack this pumpkin sky and break on through.
The open road, a littered landscape of longing.
Making my way to you once more.
Stabling the state of mind I’m in.
Begin the begin.

26/11/202223/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: escape, sea, travelTags: art, escape, freeway, heart, longing, love, ocean, planes, poem, Poetry, sea, sun, sunshine, travel 2 Comments

Bare

My bones lay like dust in your eyes.
Is that why you cry?
Seeing such emotion stripped bare.
Chalking up your mind.
Yet this heart beats in your mouth.
An oral fixation for the truth.
Tasting every rhythm. Every pulse.
I burned all this down around me.
To smoke out the ghosts of a past.
The ones you wanted dead.
So, now lay me down.
And kiss me back to life.

23/11/202223/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: bones, heart, smokeTags: art, bones, fire, flame, ghosts, heart, love, pain, poem, Poetry, smoke, truth, you Leave a comment

Death of the heart

Through hollowed tears that paint the walls.
Cries a thought, uttered more in lament than desperation.
The lights fading.
A love abating.
The prayer for a heart on the edge of nothing.
What demons and ghosts stole it away.
Which angels plucked it from the earth.
Has god really written the last passage in its tale.
Or has the other heart deserved a second chance?
These questions lick at the mind of fate.
While others close their eyes to possibilities.
They lost the beat, the rhythm of love.
Those roots that went deep, tangled and clogged with mud.
Twisted with happenstance and rode the whispered jokes of time.
All beneath the silent wings, and bells ringing out a new era.
While eucalyptus air fills the lungs.
And we cough up the oil of yesterday.
For heaven can wait, while paradise before us blooms.

16/11/202222/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: angels, death, fateTags: angels, art, chance, death, demons, doover, fate, ghosts, god, heart, heaven, light, love, poem, Poetry, prayer, wings Leave a comment

Applications become the same

This Monday morning evaporates the weekend.
A horrendous hue of change.
Your absence now in my bed, as our bodies break.
Twisting the world apart.
The world, now on show for bright eyes and coffee headaches.
Stretching out the happiness as the day rolls into grey.
For without you next to me, I find it harder to breathe.
The eye blinks of necessity struggle under the weight of it all.
I do not mean to be a burden, of self-serving theatrics.
This production creeps out of the stage you set.
For each time you go, and the curtain closes.
I’m left picking popcorn and ticket stubs off my dirty heart.
Rushing once more for the weekend, to be first in line.
This heart a needle, in your hay.

12/11/202220/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: love, sex, theatreTags: art, coffee, eyes, headache, kis, love, poem, Poetry, popcorn, sex, show, stage, theatre, week, weekend, work, world Leave a 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

Idle hands

Spider vines that creep.
Under my skin, beneath the bone.
Touching you there, where I knew you’d feel something.
Underneath where the devil plays.
Where the intent whispers like a tongue on the breeze.
My witch’s familiar licks the blood from these fingers.
Sticky and sickly sweet.
Hunting you down.
Seeking revenge and reason for you turning my head.
And throbbing my blood.
With your idle care.
Now at the whim, of my idle hands.

29/10/202222/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: lost, magic, witchTags: art, blood, bone, care, demon, horro, kiss, love, lust, magic, poem, Poetry, sex, witch, witchcraft Leave a comment

Bleeding air

Wait for this dust to settle.
A hurt that’s wrapped tightly in a bandage.
Squeezed into numbness.
You asked me here, you want me to stay.
But to remain means deserting me.
Leaving myself alone to drift into space.
You handle my heart so divinely.
Picking off the dirt that reminds me of my past.
Scars that taught me not to break.
To catch you, half a world away; lost in the fog of tomorrow.
Cancelling time zones as the tock and the tick irritate.
And your kiss, inebriates it all.
This Atmosphere changes everything.
Up here, I cannot see the fall.

26/10/202222/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: blood, space, travelTags: bleed, blood, distance, falling, flight, heart, heartache, hope, love, past, plane, poem, Poetry, space, timezones, tomorrow 4 Comments

Vindicate

As lips part, unleashed dogs rip and wrought.
Choking on the tiniest thought.
That burn away nirvanic benediction.
And grabs the wood for your own crucifixion.
For a pox you are in eyes of scarlet tension.
A strangled lie of incomprehension.
That simmers to a sinner’s plea.
The fragile-ness of complexity.

12/10/202218/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: christ, crucifixion, religionTags: complex, crucifiction, cruicifixion, devil, forgiveness, god, guilt, hate, jesus, liar, lie, love, nirvana, poem, Poetry, religion, rhyme, scarlett, tension, vindicate 6 Comments

Cosmically baptised

That endless world they talk of.
A Drowned world.
It opened in my heart when the starry waves washed inside.
When you looked at me.
With that light of god in your eyes.
And in that moment, like that pebble in your hand.
You grasped at the infinite.
You consumed my soul.
And we would remain forever bound.
Like that pebble in the ferocious stream.
Washed endlessly by the cosmic current.
Until clean.

01/10/202217/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: holy, soul, spaceTags: baptised, baptize, cosmic, eyes, heart, light, love, ocean, pebbles, poem, Poetry, religious, river, soul, soulmate, space, universe, water 3 Comments

Sensitive souvenir

Through painted eyes I see your heart.
Overflowing, submerged in milk and honey.
In that kiss, I feel the tenderness.
Which my soul has yearned for.
But like a pebble in my shoe.
A reminder remains.
That stain on my heart will never fade.
And those mistakes I will keep in the back of mind.

28/09/202217/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: beauty, birds, eyesTags: art, beauty, bird, eyes, forgiveness, heart, kiss, love, poem, Poetry, soul, swan, tender 2 Comments

Arrive/Depart/Transfer

Stripped back today’s waste.
Our suspicion rises.
What you choose to do, what flounders.
Prepared to turn me inside out again.
Airport lighted, with the sun still sleeping.
Bore me down to my appled-core.
Picking out the seeds you planted.
And that I washed with tears.
Alighted.
My boarding pass heart in hand.
To see such new wonders in your eyes.
Breaking from home.
Rest your head on my shoulder.
I will read you bad poetry.
Whispered deeply.
Into your heart.
You loved me today, as the night colours away.
It breathed new life inside.
Returning from Saturn and watching the universe tip over.
The others none the wiser.
Souls that were drawn out of committee.
Leached from the darkness.
Hard to take off.
Now night-time while travellers sleep.
With you, I always fly.
That south western sky, heading to the red earth.
For you are everything.
And all I need.

24/09/202217/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: fight, love, travelTags: airport, alight, australia, flight, fly, love, poem, Poetry, sky, sleep, time, transfer, travel 6 Comments

Death in Longing – Part I

It came, not in the darkness.
But by a light I willingly placed.
A devil may come in many guises.
And his was a most handsome face.

The flowers died upon arrival.
I did not look or care to see.
How the birds flew out and yonder.
All fleeing the threat unknown to me.

Love was what was offered.
Unconditional, placed at the door.
Hungry was the being who entered.
Devouring lonely souls, longing for more.

The cuts came as sweet as honey.
And the bruises bloomed like spring violets.
The blood seeped, yet I felt nothing.
Unaccustomed and deaf to such violence.

18/09/202218/09/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: death, Devil, loveTags: art, birds, darkness, death, devil, flowers, hurt, light, love, pain, poem, Poetry, rhyme, violence Leave a comment

Sweetness follows

Jasmine lips and honey eyes.
Dance on my flesh like miniature dragonflies.
Growing roses in my heart.
The ivy of my mind to twist into.
Licking your skin and tasting the ocean.
Chasing your wave and finding sand in my shoe.
You.
Blue and free like the sky that pulls over my eyelids.
Whispering into my skull, the tantric movement of tomorrow.
Taking me off to another land.
Where your skeleton slips into my skin each day.
And crystal tears carve a path right through me.
Amber shivers and slumbered eyes, welcoming these dreams.
Tip-toeing through the water lilies of your world.
Hovering like the hummingbird of your heart.
Beat and hum.

16/09/202215/09/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: flowers, kiss, seaTags: birds, crystal, flowers, honey, hummingbird, love, lust, ocean, poem, Poetry, sea, sex, skull, sky, tomorrow, waves 4 Comments

Shine

Crushed to diamond dust.
Inhaled in the right light.
When the moon is bright.
Deep into your vines I travel.
Riding ruby seas of love.
Waves alive with serotine.
That burst at the heart centre.
Filling your soul with stars.

07/09/202216/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: blood, heart, starsTags: diamond, dust, hands, heavens, light, love, poems, Poetry, skin, space, stars, touch, travel, veins Leave a comment

Bully

Never ready, aching like a muscle in the heat.
Tired and silent, hoping for it to pass on by.
To float through like dreams of change.
Holding my breath.
Catching my heart.
It always comes, they always do.
Those feelings of love that split my cells.
Love. Love. Love.
Even when solitary sense surrounds.
It doubles down.
Attacking where I’m weakest.
You know how to make me feel.
Punching the darkness out of me.
Leaving halos around my heart.
You come on with your disease.
Spreading like an immunity that I will never possess.
Tasting the trauma of before, I hesitate to move.
Watching while the soul dances the dance.
Bones that break with ease, cannot protect a heart that bleeds.
For you, seep on through.
Forcing me to love you once more.

30/08/202230/08/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: disease, love, soulTags: art, attack, blood, bully, disease, feelings, heart, hurt, immune, love, poem, Poetry, punch, soul, soulmate 4 Comments