surreal – Havoc and Consequence

Kill them with kindness

The wind blew her northward.
Desert dry and frigidly barren.
A mind thirsty for something tasted before.
Spent, but ready to burst again.
Like a leaf on the breeze, planted where she fell.
Pouring paint into the world.
Cracking open other skulls to sneak inside.
Planting diamonds.
She came like Christmas.
A Beautiful pageant of lights and colour.
Soaking up the grey.
Uprooting the cemetery stones that stuck up like teeth.
She polished them like new enamel.
Dressed in the same clothes she was to be buried in.
She was like you or I.
The same skeleton underneath.
Yet she was different.
Feeding the animals in her mind that roared at life.
Acting like it was all a circus.
Until she floated away again.
Up and out of sight, out of hand.
When her work here was done.

19/10/202218/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: circus, crazy, kindnessTags: animals, cemetary, circus, crazy, creative, diamonds, fish, fun, grave, happy, imagination, kindness, life, nature, poem, Poetry, surreal, unique, woman 4 Comments

Black box

Reaching for you as earth says its goodbye.
What is this thing that takes flight.
Soaring through uncharted and terror drenched clouds.
As I look for monsters out the window.
If this plane were to fall from the sky.
Tear into the ground.
This thing wrapped in meaning.
Would it leave a hole in my heart?
Would it turn me to dust?
A fallen bird needing to fly, this thing called love.

03/08/202213/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: birds, flying, hurtTags: bird, clouds, flight, flying, heart, hurt, love, monsters, plane, poem, Poetry, skies, surreal, terror 6 Comments

Removed: Post lunar blue

She lived up there, where no-one went.
A sparkled silent sky just for her.
And her dreams and diamonds, all well spent.
As she walked through her world in a blur.
For it was on the moon her soul resided.
In lunar craters she crept and hided.
Watching the world from the safety of space.
Removed and distant, from the human race.
And her heart was safe and full of silence.
As the solar winds blew through her soul.
She forgot the tether from us through her highness.
And all the destruction and collapse down below.

16/07/202211/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: earth, moon, starsTags: art, blue, collpase, colour, diamondds, earth, flight, girl, luna, moon, poem, Poetry, sky, solar, space, surreal 9 Comments

Sarcastic Simon simply says

Which parade set table are we dressed for?
Candy stars and sweet honey lemonade?
Goldfish trapped in tiny jars.
Blind me now, let’s play charades.
Cheating on the life we try to lead.
Hide and seek with death.
But such a sad face he always wears.
Covering us in black and liquorice lace.
Come skim the jellybean stones with me.
Jump the sugared rocks over the pool of irresponsibility.
We can talk to god at the end.
We can ask him how it went.
Whether our game was fun of failing.
Come on, it’s just begun.

26/01/202226/11/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: death, fun, godTags: art, candy, death, fun, funny, games, god, happy, play, poem, Poetry, surreal, sweets, youth Leave a comment

Blue of a bruise (again and again)

THE BLUE OF A BRUISE

Idling of the blood stream.
Brightening those nightmares that shudder.
Twisting in and out of focus.
The mind finding reference points.
All chalky talk and eye darting.
Searching the door to find new weather.
Trust seems lost again.
Blue skies clouded like the eyes of God closing.
Tearing in the rains of revelation.
Words struck the vein.
The devil tastes the pain.
What part is called to be diminished?
Swallowing in a rapture, that unpicks the scars.
A lie to curdle the blood.
A pain to feel alive once more.
Do you know the lungs want to sing?
Padded with angel feathers they heave in lament.
The soul siphoned away, bottled like wine.
Death’s most beautiful throw.
Snatching things, before they grow.

The Blue of a bruise

07/09/202107/09/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: death, god, Poetry, weatherTags: blue, bruise, death, devil, drugs, eyes, god, loss, pain, poem, poems, surreal, veins, weather 6 Comments

The World beneath

Hold your breath. Count to ten.
Join the depths of the world beneath.
An inversed galaxy that never ends.
With lotus flower eyes you can see if you listen.
The aquatic hum of a sight leagues beneath your bones.
You are the octopus that crawled back to the sea.
The Sinking ship which will haunt the ocean floor.
Poseidon blood tingles in your veins as you descend.
To the world beneath, the silent watery grave where the weeds dance.
Each wave washes away your grey.
And every day your Atlantis awaits.

11/08/202120/07/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: PoetryTags: art, bones, death, fantasy, forest, grave, life, ocean, poem, Poetry, sea, ship, surreal, woods Leave a comment

Heaven can wait

Though darkness may surround.
The angels still call your name.
Blessed and crowned.
Pulling heaven and the moon, down to earth again.

14/07/2020 by Mark Ryan Categories: divine, heaven, moon, PoetryTags: abstract, angels, art, change, divine, earth, god, heaven, hope, jellyfish, light, moon, poem, Poetry, rhyme, space, stars, surreal 11 Comments

Tag: surreal