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

An aftertaste of paradise

Missed the miracles, those saving graces.
Little wishes that burn and sting at the end.
For what could have saved us?
In the face of the insurmountable.
Of turned cheeks and empty pockets.
The eucalyptus chokes my lungs.
And demise weighs heavy on my soul.
Call it all what you want to.
Tack it up to the wall of my new prison.
I couldn’t belong, I didn’t believe.
The land beneath my feet felt the same as any other.
Yet the sky burned with dreams.
And the rains washed my history away.
All with you by my side.
Now a million miles later I ache for those memories.
To never fade, but to only remain unchanged.
The tangled touches of a life that was beginning to build.
Brick by brick, though the floor was made of sand.
A piece of that bliss is caught between my teeth.
Stubbornly it refuses to move.
A reckoning of intent to stay or go.
When these eyes close, it is love that coats all I see.
Housed in a land beyond the equator.
Rustling in the leaves of my disposed days.
Calling like the kookaburras tapping at my mind.
Crying out to visit once more.

17/03/202216/03/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: disaster, dreams, fireTags: australia, bushfire, death, devastation, ending, fire, flames, heat, hot, love, memories, paradise, plans, poem, Poetry, trees 1 Comment

Climbing clouds of solitude

Feel the day fall away.
The suffocating blanket of night descends.
Blurring the gold into murky grey.
Calling out your name into the world.
Lost or stolen by the sea of stars.
Twinkling and laughing as they swallow the sound.
All stillness awakes me.
The hesitant twitch on my skin.
You rise like the moon on this valleyed horizon.
Cupped in confusion.
I swirl your soul in my mouth.
And taste the sweet sweat of god.
Fragrant, yet full of pockets of nothingness.
Things I cannot contain.
You slip away, over languid landscapes to another paradise.
One quiet of me and my heady malaise of destruction.
A garden which you can walk in solitude and peace.
Where the pools are full of my tears of longing.

22/02/202222/02/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: god, gold, peaceTags: art, clouds, dark, day, god, gods, gold, kiss, love, night, paradise, peace, poem, Poetry, pool, solitude, soul, stars 4 Comments