Occasional ruckus

Wrapped in the 21^st century.
Shattering all trauma.
Which built against little empires.
Punching blindly in this fight for life.
Yet asked not to kill.

Die a little.
Crying happiness.
Lying slowly.
Counting stars.

Face first on the concrete.
Unwrapping the other side.
A tidied dream of destroying how it was.
The questions move me to new terrain.
Setting fires to light my way.

03/09/202102/09/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: change, fire, tomorrowTags: anger, change, dying, empire, fight, fire, life, lying, poem, Poetry, stars, survive, time, tomorrow, world 5 Comments

Welcome that memory

In my mind like candle flicker,
a memory burns low, yet still alive.
Holding on through the frost so bitter,
reminding us all how to survive.
A simple thought, easily mislabeled.
A memory covered by the snow of time.
But ignites the hope and good enabled..
That once was lost, will again be mine.

15/11/2020 by Mark Ryan Categories: fight, memories, peaceTags: art, calm, cold, figthing, hurt, memory, peace, poem, Poetry, snow, survive 12 Comments