Holding on to
One dream one
Promise to be
Exempt from despair
Though the sky is clear and no storm formations have been reported,
there are potential threats to her well being and sanity. His presence
looms. His words at any time could become projectiles, hurling toward her.
hurricane force winds
rip and tear, emotions surge-
must seek safe shelter
close eyes, protect heart
can’t risk evacuation-
a windowless room
always on the edge
yet i’m ill equipped
into the ethereal
for it is not enough
to erase evil thoughts
even if they are exoteric
and emulation proves exhausting
which is exactly the point
I love the beach but alas, the sun does not love me so going during the day is not a great idea. However much to my delight, the beach at night is a completely different experience. The crowds are gone, the sand is cool, as is the ocean’s breeze. The tranquility and calm washes over you.
water lapping feet
as we walk along the sand
moonlight softly glows
I‘m tongue-tied and vague
a red-headed harpy let loose by the sun
I’m the price of a stiff drink
in a one horse town
I’m a dusty floored attic
and you are leaving footprints as you go
I’m a wild summer night
driving too fast and screaming
obscenities out the windows
I’m the grey-green glow from the instrument panel
I’m the nubby-brown tack
of nicotine stained curtains
in a secondhand room
I’m incense in a closed space
I’m falling asleep in front of the TV
on a school night
I’m decadence made plain
I’m a whey-faced creature
coughed up by the earth
I’m butter-yellow sunshine
and I live in your eyes
I’m 10 feet tall and raggedy red
I’m desperately trying to make you see
I’m the sticky peeling pain
of sweat on vinyl
I’m the summer dusk from childhood
I’m wishing on stars and dandelion puffs
I’m fairy dust and magic wands
I’m the moon on an October night
I’m the orange-grey haze
falling on wet pavement
I’m rain on leaves
on dead tree rings
Do you know who I am yet?
I’m a blue-eyed
dime store queen
I am who is
and might have been.
I originally posted this here on May 2nd 2013 so it’s the poem’s anniversary 😉
*yes, those are my eyes and that is the most of me I’m willing to post!
oh woe is the state of me
am I beyond repair?
if’t be true mine heart lies at the city centre
wherefore doth it not get along with its neighbor brain
which dwells near by in northern suburb?
thoughts after all bringeth forth emotion
and though synapse art wearied and has’t suffered damage
they doth still transit thither
***I asketh thee, please forgive mine feeble attempts at sounding “Shakespearean” and the resulting butchery.
His smile was like some kind of magic
As was the sparkle in his eyes
But she knew it would be some kind of tragic
if she once again went for the ride
I cannot grasp
the ease at which
barbed fallacies fall
from your crimson lips
only to plunge deftly
into my still beating heart
poetry by nicolas ryan brown.
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