Posts tagged "Her"
  1. Notes: 4 / 2 years ago 

    Souls trapped in a Quantum Entanglement thrall

    From days long since passed…

    There is such an awful distance now; a void, with no light or sound
    where what was between us may yet perish… never to be found
    Beyond my straining grasp this chasm does extend very, very far
    You’re in another world entirely; it’s so throughly, so utterly bizarre
    I still think of you, always, and it seems you were never in my life
    (I wonder… no, of that period all you can probably recall is strife)

    Aye, maybe you’d think I’d be sorry, as now all is said and done
    but on my lonely lowly gallows I am inclined to apologize to none
    If you see the end a’coming you’d instinctively reach for your gun
    but when it all suddenly sneaks up on you, finality has already won

    I awake, broken, and remember, of course you were there
    Mercy? Threats? Leave that place be you tiresome wench!
    How dare you go, leave me high and dry but instill within me
    a thirst for the intangible perfect I’ll never come to quench!
    How dare you stand with that girlish smile beneath the ledge
    whilst all around you the downpour of acid rain does drench!
    We sat, you on a battleship, me in field, and you asked of me
    what I feared but I did not hesitate to up-‘n’-over the trench!
    You know it, I know it, but I still think of you, when I’m writing
    In my white-knuckled hands a pen with cracked case I clench!

    You say the things in dreams
    that I wish you’d say by day
    Why must you still persist?
    Why can’t I banish you away?

  2. Notes: 9 / 2 years ago 

    An Unrequited Requiem

    This is a poem I wrote a while ago, in a different time. Unfortunately, it was dedicated to somebody whom evidently didn’t want it, whom obviously didn’t want me anymore, and most certainly didn’t want to engage in the funerary proceedings which I held as incumbent. I still mourn for what was lost but the grief is lessening by the day thankfully.

    This piece was formed from the shrapnel and debris that were left scattered at ground zero, the epicenter of the implosion if you will - when the wounds were so very raw, and yet I was in such a state of shock that I barely registered them yet because their effects were still masked by the resulting stupor. In hindsight, I wrote it almost as an obituary, and, in a way, an admission of guilt.

    It’s something I thought I would have kept forever hers, even though she didn’t want it and basically seemed to resent it, but time has passed, and I would like it archived. The point will come when all that remains of what we had are words
    I’ve gifted to her and the memories we gave to one another… I still wonder how it is that such a deplorable eventuality only brings one of us to tears still.

    Read More

  3. Notes: 16 / 2 years ago 

    The Condition of Post-Phantasm Malcontent

    I see now in the perfect acuity of hindsight
    that I have valued you beyond your worth
    My pool of appreciation is decidedly finite
    and undoubtedly we are at point of dearth
    For the dam is broken, in escaping twilight
    That the blackness must conceal the birth
    of the product formed in a fading firefight;
    the one we had knowing the victor’s curse
    If you’re asking how it is I am still so terse
    perhaps remember you’re my life’s highlight
    So what is it I can do? But write my verse
    and cry into my opium, in position of a serf
    to the emotion and anguish of my new sight
    And though I know the truth, it is still worse
    For now I know for certain that I wear blight
    (one so many since and after knew as rite)
    A malady no medicine or matron may nurse
    And that is that of knowing one is contrite
    though realizing they’ve done nothing adverse
    And coming to see their loved one outright
    so that all their virtues are really the inverse

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  4. Notes: 12 / 2 years ago 

    Paint my portrait in Tesseract Cubism

    You have glimpsed my often
    shielded core of vulnerability
    Something my future scholars
    would laugh at and call heresy
    Proclaiming ‘no girl could hold
    this claim over man such as he’
    But it is true! One girl, this girl,
    saw things no other one will see
    Without her, one boy, this boy
    will never be all that he could be

    I know it’s trite, and oh so throughly said before
    in love songs and ballads from those days of yore
    The way I’ve chased you is echoed in mythic lore
    but your words and ways I cannot help but adore

  5. Notes: 2 / 2 years ago 

    One day we’ll make love on smouldering Rhodesian sand

    I shall disappear into the blackest night
    As even the penumbra’s murky shadow
    and with a enraged wraith’s fading fight
    Though always, when in your meadow,
    I am so amongst the friends and ghosts
    But memories rock my sleep to-and-fro
    And all are divided into leasts and mosts
    Birds sing my praise from the hedgerow
    Snakes hiss scorn in their undergrowth
    My vantage is forever on edge though
    Bordered by the maze craft of opinion
    Alone, situated plainly in your dominion

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  6. Notes: 3 / 2 years ago 

    My sweetheart songbird with machine gun flair

    The problem with being in a downward spiral is that even when you turn around you’re still being pulled down, only now you can’t see where you’re going.

    I feel such subtle emptiness
    A silence of painful rejection
    So much so it almost seems
    you have sought the erection
    of a literal wall between me and
    the only object of my affection
    Of all the girls, in all the world
    well, you were my selection
    So how is it you could ever think
    I’d veer in another one’s direction?

    The idea of you I’ve idolized;
    an immaculate conception, tho
    I sometimes fear the real you
    is not the girl in my projection

    Read More

  7. Notes: 4 / 2 years ago 

    Ode to an abdicated Muse

    Fingertips oh so divine
    paint with flawless ace
    so many delicate lines
    Seen from outer space
    combine in composition;
    that of your pretty face
    Angles sharpened and
    curves thus interlaced
    Mercurial features drift
    in flux, with no solid place
    Sapphire stare causes
    all my pretense to erase
    Lustered chestnut hair
    of an overflowing pace
    Sanguine lips stir in me
    no will but to embrace
    Infused shadowed lines
    of a fine obsidian lace
    Your sharp intelligence
    takes my ego in displace
    A beautiful facade but
    with succubus encased
    A fiercely proud sylph
    moves with angelic grace
    An architectured Goddess
    but with no human trace

    A faerie’s dusting
    of daemonic pride
    So many past lives
    wordlessly inscribed

    In almost every detail
    she’s sublimely pure
    A flourished nobility,
    I’m profoundly sure
    With no worldly pomp;
    just a naked couture
    A pixie’s innocence
    but a siren’s allure
    Such perfection does
    nothing but ensure
    till I meet my maker
    I am forever inured
    to rebuttal or respite,
    by God, the only cure

    Such angry poise but
    always fearlessly sincere
    One sole cascading caste
    of a nymphean veneer
    A laugh with an awful
    power to hopelessly endear
    A smile that could beguile
    an even very wary seer
    A wrath no king or God
    may hope to commandeer
    A fury that could leave
    the world in everloving fear

    A picture that haunts
    my every single dream
    So many eons of trial
    evoke nary a scream

    An artist’s aesthetic appreciation
    Seen in realms of such elation
    A bard’s cooing poetic affection
    Found in this depth of dejection

    A goddess surely walks amongst us
    Her breath imbues vitality and new life
    Two souls intermingle and coalesce
    An assassin with so crystalline a knife

    My innocence I bartered for
    but you were the highest bidder
    Shooting stars collide in the sky
    I do wish that you’d reconsider

    All alone to dwell on that
    which does naught but hurt
    My ivory tower now so
    adorned with a spray of dirt
    A trek across a minefield
    I do so hope is now inert
    I’ll try to raise my Galleon
    from its grave in a desert
    I still always keep your image
    but my eyes they must avert
    Like quantum physics, I fear
    my observation may pervert
    the sanctity of your likeness
    and its loveliness so invert

    A life expended in
    an unearthly lust
    and for my trouble
    dismissal so unjust

    Even a life of toil could not
    pay my shameful debt
    I doubt that I will make it back
    but tell them not to fret
    Who I am now is but a half
    and I worship that silhouette
    I’m still so very infatuated
    by my last brunette vignette
    My heart still holds your bust,
    dwelling on your statuette
    In a place not far from death
    I miss you so much [sobriquet]

    I have seen the most
    refined Aphrodite beauty
    and poems in her tribute
    I’ll forever call my duty

All Things Literary

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Welcome to my humble writing blog. There's a lot to see here, if you care to explore.

FEATURED WORK:

The Last Bard’s Tale [REDUX]
An Epic Poetry series (in progress)
         Part One

You'll find Alexandria when the Dawn Commeth
A short story told from the perspective of a man facing his fast-approaching death. The narrative follows the struggles of two starcrossed lovers kept apart by wicked divine intervention.
         Chapter One
         Chapter Two
         Chapter Three

An Ode to an Abdicated Muse - A poem demonstrating my infatuation's huge capacity for aesthetic appreciation
         The Poem

A Sniper's Perch [REDUX] - A short story narrating the mechanical executions and detached ponderings and reflections of a lone Russian sniper during the brutal climax of WWII
         The Story

The Author


Wide-eyed, wild-haired boy posts poems, short stories, and various other miscellaneous creative writing.

My name is Ryan.

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