Posts tagged "The You"
  1. Notes: 18 / 2 years ago 

    Immortal Tusks

    Together, on one fine day, we left, at no vocal request,
    with great haste and no thought spared for the hereafter
    A dark continent, bearing adventure’s well-worn crest,
    was the destination of our erratic and impetuous quest
    Whilst there we adapted, shared in tears and laughter,
    befriending bleak hordes now hopelessly dispossessed
    Whence natural fury did stir, bringing about grand disaster,
    both communities and structures alike endured the stress
    We lent aid to the distressed, laying those no longer to final rest
    We helped upright buildings for those who heeded no master
    We rebuilt bridges that elephant herds tread longer still after
    A century from now, these forgotten things will still matter,
    when even elephantine memory begins to fade, but no faster,
    when our bones are ashen and have just began to scatter,
    hooves with ungulate grace will still be heard to clatter thereafter

  2. Notes: 2 / 2 years ago 

    A Divine Ignition - and the besotted Pyromaniacs, with their Incendiary Prose, that it wrought

    You still see it, no?

    It has dimmed slightly, but, as if they existed in a state of begrudging equilibrium, the darkness has grown stronger, thicker, and it ventures deeper still, so it doesn’t much matter anyway. The silvers of pitch-dark shadows still dance against their brilliant backdrop with the same fervor, with the same irreverence to our watchful gazes.

    You do still see it.

    Yes. I’m sure of it.

    Read More

  3. Notes: 1 / 2 years ago 

    A preface to an Ode - Per aspera ad Astra

    It is so very hard to write about us
    and harder still even when I’ve tried
    You wanted words that I have lost
    Do trust that I’d give them otherwise

    For we were born in, and of, a lust
    A wordless dictum of a phallic quill
    invalidating an expression via thrust
    Things shifted, words became a must
    So, hence, my dictation at your will:

    My hand has so stayed from penning
    in it’s patent, maybe well-worn, style,
    words used previously in condemning
    those whom I’ve now chosen to revile

    I would seek, and as I’d claim rightly is your due,
    to distance even your passing, fleeting mention,
    but especially when the context is poetical review,
    the notion that you conjure in my mind’s dimension
    from the inferior attempts that preceded finding you,
    to elevate it from their taint; immaculate ascension

    These are words which needed saying that I willfully neglected
    Truths, true as tautological, that I’d have still zealously rejected
    Though now I feel a surge, a rush to which I’m easily subjected
    as regularly as precious thoughts of you can be feasibly expected
    I’ll start my scribing, damned be my constant want of the perfected,
    long overdue is an appreciative appraisal being your way directed

  4. Notes: 7 / 2 years ago 

    Words gifted, but never having needed to be said

    ‘tis true, of that murky, mercurial mirror, there are still some slivers
    As its sort is not easily forgotten, and aye we are not both givers
    Though I had hoped that it’d be clearer it is boughten and delivers
    at odd rodeo tussles, a rotten measure nearer to blood-polluted rivers
    Do you not see it? No? The slowly progressing terminal mutation?
    Which twists our friendship away from quiet, respectful adulation?
    I don’t think I ask all that much now, just that, for me, you be patient
    For the things worth having, I know dear, do seem to take their ages,
    but I can only assure you the drafts, and all of those torn-out pages
    aren’t yet worthy of any beaming smiles or tears coursing down our faces
    You may not think it but I have been crafting, tinkering in this pursuit
    of that perfect, not your style of vague, something so much more acute!
    To tell you what I feel, what I know, some of it you may openly refute
    Though most of which you’d have noticed if, well, you’re at all astute
    I do often feel that what there is between us is best left gladly mute
    So much of it just exists in a state beyond equal, but of similar repute
    All I care about is our shared love of words so all else seems so moot
    You know my pen’s paths, and where its favorite ones are to be found
    Due to your familiarity, you’re the last one who I could hope to astound
    In those idle moments, I think you do know my thoughts on us as well
    So why? Why is it that you’re so very incontestably desperate to impel
    my poison from my wounds? To eke out of my neurons any validation
    that you can wholly grab? There’s been extensive, expansive dictation
    on the matter so very often, in fact, it’s heard nearly every single night
    So, though I’m inattentive, soften. As you weren’t listening either right?
    Don’t you fear the point where all of it becomes so common and so trite?
    Sure, I’ll sit down, and I can give you what you’re after, I’ll easily indite
    a whole series of long poems and short stories dedicated in your name
    Their value would even envy the ones past times saw for a pasttime dame
    You know the one, she, who still, to this day, I would surely seek to blame
    for your jealousy and uncertainty as she has obviously dually been its aim
    She is now but echoes of half-whispers, the shadows of a ghostly glimmer
    That white phosphorus flash behind my retina is only ever getting dimmer
    For inside my mind’s looking glass she is now but a disappearing shimmer
    You two held a duel, at early dawn, in grassy dew, and Sammy was the winner
    Beware that your prize comes at a cost, one of a requisite need to consider
    the price you’ll have to always pay, in upkeep, in tribute to your saintly sinner
    I ask: as we stand together, what of us do you see painted in my pretty mirror?

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.

Ask me something, anything. Be bold.
 

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