Ryan's Poetic Plunge

The Tiny Coffee Bean

2005-01-23T21:40:00.000-08:00

Drip, drip, drip my trusty coffee brewer
Releasing the essence of the flavor
Jamaica Blue Mountain beans
Their distinctive aroma and rich balance that I savor

Bold, as it is subtle, with a bright sweet aftertaste
Like a fine wine you can't put down or waste
Who could imagine this delight comes from trees
Evergreens dressed with shiny arrowhead shaped leaves

Grown in an equatorial band
Between the Tropics of Cancer and Capricorn
On hillsides and mountain slopes, its small white blossoms
Fill the air with the heady aroma of jasmine and orange.

Hand picked then graded by size, quality and taste
The huller removing the silver skin case
A single defective bean able to taint the flavor of an entire pot
Meticulous care taken in the washing, sun dried rays so hot

The first sip of coffee bestowing royalty, majesty to my day
As though I was a coffee barren, my plantation not far away
Juan handpicking the cherry red beans to fill my morning cup
A tiny slice of coffee cake with my second to perk me up

As I sit here my day yet to be seen
I feel the power of this tiny bean
Stronger than all the religions of the world combined
A social binder, a warmer of tongues, a soberer of the mind

Political Puppetry

2005-01-21T16:06:00.000-08:00

Age has brought me to this place perchance
Parsing the ponderous of my remembrance
Yet, age shall not stop me from the task at hand
As the need of a midnight ride rests on our land

Oh, brothers and sisters, I plead you to hear
Of the incise of a nation born of deceiver’s fear
So heinous in its methods, constructed invisible
Political puppetry, our division unpreventable

A scheme devised of lies intent on separation
Creeps between our shores spreading its deception
Constructed by wealth and greed, desire of control
If we choose not to stand, a most devastating toll

Unable to even imagine giving up our nations creed
I plead once more and ask, why must our babies bleed?
When did we accept hate as an acceptable reaction?
Clothed in false morality, sure to pay for our distraction

Will you join me in this fight, will you do what you know is right?
Arm yourself with the truth, the proper target in your sight
The enemy isn’t homosexuality or a fight for a marriage right
Not red nor blue, black or white, won’t bring you harm in the night

Our enemies I dare to say wear suits brought of our sweat
Consume the finest wine and food, warriors without regret
So concealed is their plot we perceive them as naught
Uncertainty and apathy devours all that we were taught

The battle is upon us, the call to seek the truth, stand the ground
To recognize the lies and rhetoric and by it not be bound
We have the strongest weapons, knowledge, truth, and love
The believers of us, protected by a shield of faith, have God above

I cringe at what these meddling fools have done to our democracy
Manipulating tradition and morality to create their own theocracy
To steal our freedom, discarding our civil rights, they could not wait
To disregard laws and destroy the wall of separation of church and state
They create diversions, needless issues upon which everyone brews
Designed to make political puppets that are controlled by nightly news
Passage of the Patriot Act, what eloquent names are used
Disagree with them and it will be of treason that you are accused

They say they believe in privacy as they build a national database
They know who you are, where you are, and when you leave a place
Big brother is here in the name of security, void of public scrutiny
It steals our freedom, eliminates our privacy without accountability

My heart aches as I envision what the future holds for our children
The failure of a democracy, so corrupted, we cared not to defend
The melting pot of America, the original dream, in postmortem
All of this sounding so extreme, yet fearful of not sounding the alarm

My angst compelling me to give this last battle cry, my lantern from the shore
Our enemies’ camouflage now destroyed, shown only as words we can’t ignore
Discrimination, coercion, division, intolerance, and hate to name a few
Easily extinguished by the single act of one, it all comes down to you

A Frame Of Winter

2005-01-21T16:00:00.000-08:00

I have this large bay window, on the sunrise side of my home
A picture frame of winter delight, calling me to pen a poem
Blazing yellow morning sun pulsing through in cheerful stream
The crispness of not long fallen snow, casting off its glorious gleam

Eager squirrels about their way, soaring with ease from limb to limb
A red-breasted nuthatch makes me smile, the way he sings his hymn
The little old lady next door, a widow, shoveling her way to the mailbox
Expectations of good reports from her children, or dividends of stocks

Little munchkins wrapped tight, straining to stand and pilot their way
Rolling earths snowy blanket into a snowman or fort in their play
A whipping wind scoops rooftop drift, powdering my view with sparkling delight
Chimneys churning out smoke, the fire below warming the family into the night

Snow flakes now falling ferociously, big as rose petals, thick as cotton bloom
Sitting here behind the glass all warm and snug, camomile tea to consume
I can’t help but wonder what the first light will bring, what winter wonderland
Captured from my window mezzanine, the poet’s pen close at hand

The Most Unforgettable Candy Bar

2005-01-16T02:27:00.000-08:00

Having just been released from fifth grade detention
On a count of my tendency to not pay much attention
I was strolling past Miss Minnie’s penny candy shop
When it struck me that I was thirsty for a cherry soda pop

Reaching in my pocket, I pulled out my only dime
Enough for one small soda right at closing time
Stepping to the counter I ordered up my drink
And when Miss Minnie went for it, I started to think

I was awful hungry and a candy bar would be nice
So I browsed the selections as Minnie scooped the ice
And that’s when it hit me, I only had one dime
Enough for the soda I was drinking by this time

Minnie smiled and I smiled back, as I looked around some more
I slipped a Mallo Cup in my pocket as Minnie headed to the door
“I’ll be closing now, she said, will there be anything more?”
Nervously, red with shame, I slipped past her out the door

I ran back into the alley behind the grocery store
Then looking left and right I opened up my score
Inside there was a bonus card I couldn’t believe my luck
I was holding the highest award given, worth a buck

I bite into the candy and then I had a thought
I’d surely go to hell for this where I would surely rot
Somehow that old candy bar didn’t seem to taste too good
And I knew it was because I hadn’t done what I should

I threw the rest of it into the garbage ashamed of what I’d done
Then I froze as heard the words, “Where are you going son?”
Standing there, with an evil glare, a hand upon one hip
Miss Minnie took me by the arm, and tightened up her grip

My heart was pounding and my knees got weak, trembling with fear
As I thought about the welts, my Dad would put upon my rear
But Miss Minnie surprised me when she said she had a plan
For just a week I would sweep and empty the garbage can
Said it would be payment in full, nothing further said or done
But I’d have to make a promise never to steal from anyone
I guess I don’t need to tell you the end of all of this
Let’s just say, I learned something today, and gave an old lady a kiss

Homemade Root Beer

2005-01-15T23:34:00.000-08:00

Every day for several weeks in the rush of spring my brothers and I
Planned and executed an attack on my mother, whining and pouting
No agony revealed paramount enough for the cause, not even to cry
Days felt like years, nights spent whispering, wondering, doubting

Announcement day, Dad just home, the ingredient sack in his arm
Our faces bursting with merriment, intoxicating aromas filling the air
Sassafras and yellow dock, birch barks and hops, fresh from the farm
Dinner now on the table, the boys escort the king of root to his chair

The morning of the brew, having never slept, bottle round up to begin
Mother humming, sugar hits the herbs, Dad boiling bottles in a vat
Each industrious, diligent to their task, no division amongst the kin
Mother filtering the brew she pours, Dad supervising in his A&W hat

Last minute adjustments to the capper, Dad strongest takes the grip
The boys stack warm vessels on their sides along the wall, not too high
I run my finger round the brewing pot slip the sticky finger to my lip
Brothers, giggling laughing aloud, both sneak over and give it a try

Dad sits us down, the yearly speech so severe we wiggle in our seat
Of bottles blowing up, glass chips blinding us, keep your distance
Then as last year, he makes that loud sound bringing us to our feet
Just his way of showing us the danger, the root kings warning dance

As condemned into eternity we wait as our homebrew seeks perfection
Waiting, hoping that at least one bottle will surely bust its seam
A sign that Mother Nature is alive, bringing our labor to completion
The burst sending sweet aroma to our nostrils, a root beer dream

Of all the memories that can be put to rhyme, none are as sweet as this
A family sharing the day, the sweet aromas captured forever, for all time
It’s a memory that can be told, a tradition to be carried on, in reminisce
Homemade root beer, an ice-cold mug, to have one now would be fine

Ode To A Lover's Eyes

2005-01-15T23:18:00.000-08:00

Have you ever really looked into a lover’s eyes?
Eyes that tell a story whether dry or when he cries
I don’t speak of just one lover here
I speak of all the lovers whose eyes made love clear

Donnie his eyes so baby blue
Could draw you in so deep, it was true
Once under his spell weaved in a web of mystery
He would take you places recorded in history
Perhaps the Eiffel Tower for a midnight rendezvous
Or a cruise along a lonely Venice canal, just for two
All of that and even more without ever leaving home
Oh what worldly travels when Donnie’s eyes begin to roam
Only when the night is through his eyes closed so tight
Could I break his spell, see all of him, a lover’s true delight

Jason’s eyes were big and bright, and brown as they could be
When he looked upon me there was nothing he couldn’t see
Those eyes could read my heart and feel my pain with intimacy
Eyes that replaced words and spoke gently to my heart, caressing me
That could express what couldn’t cross his lips so shy
I taking possession of every word, as promise till I die

Anthony’s eyes twinkled like stars, sparkled as jewels, so bright
A window into his heart, I peeking in from time to time with delight
For in his eyes I could not miss the truth of his desire
That I be true to him as I had pledged, and always he admire
There is no way for me to forget the hour of our depart
He had turned his eyes to another and tore apart my heart

Some only look into one lover’s eyes content as they can be
But somehow in my search for love that wasn’t meant for me
And when I seek the wisdom of why that’s true, as I often do
This lover’s eyes tell the tale with tears of misty dew

Most lovers have a weakness, of the heart or of the eye
Of not opening or wandering, as lovers pass them by
Now so many come and gone, I captured by their disguise
I’ve learned to examine the heart and not a lover’s eyes

A Magical Destination

2005-01-09T02:02:00.000-08:00

Not so far away by time nor space
Often in a memory or upon a face
There’s a place full of magical history
Brewed of ages, keeper of life’s tree

No need to pack, baggage is forbidden
You’ll be alone, your passageway hidden
Arrive when you like no set time to start
Reservations unavailable, your choices a la carte

You’ll know by the warming of your heart
That your journey is about to start
Emotions cresting as white-capped waves
The aroma of time past oh how strong it stays

So much to see at the speed of light
A plethora of visions meant to delight
No guarantees as you start on the way
Past mountains of life where valleys of regret lay

Past loves filled of diamond and rose
Lost loves wounding the heart at their close
Past friendships that completed you
And friends you wish were not friends too

It’s a living photograph a testament of you
Your private vault that no one else can view
So here you are enjoy the bliss
Floating around in a cloud of reminisce

Of Fantasy And Reality

2005-01-08T17:50:00.000-08:00

My heart was fluttering as a hummingbird
Blood racing encouraging flight
Eyes of desire captured by the beauty
Of this dreamt of worthy knight

His eyes so dark of brown
Holding all his mysteries
Mine hazel, wide, and wanting
Capturing sensuous liberties

He turns now, contact made
And stops my heart a moment
Oh, his eyes a lusty blade
Cutting deep with his intent

A gentle curve upon his pouty lips
There’s no turning back now
My face aglow with blush
I feel a curtsy, but instead rise and bow

He takes my hand kissing it gently
Only as a noble man can
Then we walk and talk for hours
Barefooted in the sand

Awakened by the morning light
It’s brilliant yellow streams
Lying there next to me
Is the man in my dreams

Nurture

2005-01-08T17:37:00.000-08:00

Babies, from the seed in a womb
Some grow tall others destined to doom
Some nurtured with warmth and light
Others tilled into the soil the saddest blight

See in your mind's eye the gardener’s chore
Sprouts to bursting blooms shining forth amore
Feeding, leading, needing all with your gentle touch
Nature tells you if you’re doing too little or too much

Your crop will be the evidence of your gardening skill
Be it sweet as summer fruit or as bitter as a winters chill
And from the planting of the seed to the reaping of your crop
Only love can feed the growth your love must never stop

Eyes Mist With Desire

2005-01-08T17:13:00.000-08:00

Wrapping my arms around him embracing him eyes mist with desire
Our grip tightening as we lay as vine intertwining vine
Never once uttering a single word the scent of masculinity
Flowing as a river the aroma arousing attention, we mesh as one

Distant now from all that had consumed us in the past
Embraced in the future that we so willingly crave of each other
Sentient of the love we have surrounded ourselves with
The ache of desire overtakes the moment our trembling lips unite

Drawn by desire and passion sentinels of splendor uninhibited as octopi
Tentacles exploring sensuous zones of discovery lusciously capricious
Warm breath teasing cooing as doves all reserve surrendered
Rapturous of need and willful of capture we share a blissful deliverance

Lying there in a vacuum of speechless abyss saturated in afterglow
Guided by Venus, Cupid, and Eros awash in a sea of tranquility
Whispers soft as willow pass our lips glorifying our consummate ties
Wrapping my arms around him embracing him eyes mist with desire

The Zealot, The Liar, And The Queer

2005-01-03T14:56:00.000-08:00

I’d like to say this with a gentle touch
But you wouldn’t like it very much
I know you’d be thinking he’s being way to nice
So I’ll say it like I mean it, as cold as ice

Hearing preachers say it’s not right to be gay
I really can’t help but wonder, who are they to say
Twenty or more years ago, the truth was known
When all the shrinks said, “Leave those gays alone!

Said it’s not related to psychopathology, didn’t need a cure
To continue harassing gays was wrong for sure
Yet, the discriminating and downright hating never went away
If you don’t know why, you’re going to find out today

Babies aren’t born knowing how to hate
Someone has to teach them and then they imitate
Most folks I meet from day to day
Tell me they wouldn’t do that, no way

If it doesn’t start in the home then where does the hate begin?
Unbelievably in the church, where they believe homosexuality is sin
Now I’ve always known that the church is full of sinners
Everyone interpreting the bible over spaghetti dinners

Then one Sunday morning I felt uncomfortable listening to the sermon
People like me where going to burn in hell, I started squirming
But brother Bob, don’t you even know, ten percent in church are queer
Why that’s a much higher percent than you collect in tithes, so I hear

Wonder what ever happen to preachers of days gone by
Teaching love of one another, and a greater love above the sky
What about God’s teaching to those that desired to be preaching
Were they not to set examples for sinners to be reaching?

Now so many preachers, and the flocks they’re trusted to tend
Are breaking God’s commandments, it seems to be a trend
All of them so busy judging everyone
Never once thinking of the damages they have done

And even though the bible tells them to stay out of the law
They use their tithes to politicize any televangelist’s call
The zealots keep on telling all those hateful lies
Raising millions of dollars, religion in disguise

Therefore, I sound the bell of truth, so liars in the pulpit hear
God loves everyone, the zealot, the liar, and the queer
And all your lies and misguide words that you spew
Will keep you from God’s promises, I’m sure you knew

Repent my brother, to every aisle and pew
Knowing every word from your pulpit will come back to you
Let it be written in the book of life for all to hear
You served all of them, the zealot, the liar, and the queer

Lockdown

2004-12-09T22:10:00.000-08:00

Built at river edge, metal glass stone towering into the sky
Passersby might well mistake it for an architectural marvel
Yet another glance and you sense the turmoil it houses
Hear the groans the breezes from the sighs from within

A monument to security and control plateau in design
It removes the hills and valleys for all that enter
An unbelievable travesty of human justice and existence
One can only believe that all are treated poorly here yet time discloses the lie in that

The dealers get the deals everyone else gets the remains
From deep inside the day you begin to see the truth and then somehow try to block it out
Ninety five minds crowded into one mindset all trying to make it through the day
Imaginations, frustrations, anxiety, fear, you deal with it

Patience becomes your creed and the day moves on
Days go slow yet turn into weeks that pass quickly
The X’s on your church donated calendar tells all
Time is the enemy hunger your neighbor

Finding things to do that you haven’t done yet
Maybe a fight to kill some time or teach a snitch
Protect everything, your belongings, and your spirit, but mostly your heart
Never drop your guard

Ramen is the currency candy bars your coin
Named big item little item ten big ones get you a few drags
Clashing metal doors, lockdown sirens, a crying neighbor
Noise twenty four seven, never a moments peace

Walking helps so you leave footsteps in the concrete
Sleeping helps so you dream away the day then the night
You understand that no one helps anyone else
You are all alone in here and you deal with it

In the end, if you get to see it, time was all you lost
Life stood still empty hollow hard to follow
For sure no memories who could bear it
In the end, you force yourself to share it.

The Creaky Closet Door

2004-12-09T22:04:00.000-08:00

Many have cages to keep out the shark
But I had a closet that was often dark
Hooked on damnation poised to lose
Already too far gone being different
The hiding now a full time task
Squirm a way of life

A creature of the cruelties I witness
No face to put on their fears
Unable to diminish the abstractness of it all
I cracked the door an inch

A glimmer of tolerance beams in
Venture out at your own risk
Years of holding it in swimming under water
My lungs bursting to breathe

I can be pushed or pointed
But I get to choose my path
They have to see me, know me
Look at me I look like you

Go away stereotype
I’ve exposed you as paranoia
Having not accrued any dislike for you
I desire to remove our primitive discomfort

Shall we walk and talk
Pirates are having a hell of a year
Yes, I like coffee sugar, no not you, in the coffee
You’re funny too
If only I'd have known

Private Garden

2004-12-09T20:46:00.000-08:00

Some may say its sappy even downright silly
But I for one, treasure the memories that made my world tick
The little things, not really much
Yet, why do they remain in my understanding?
I suspect it’s because each of them became a part of me
Good times, good friends, a touch of ecstasy
In their commonality, I think that you will see
They’re not all mine they belong to you and me

Delivered bottled milk sitting on the stoop
Early risers always get the creamy top
Homemade root beer brewing in the cellar
Bottles popping everywhere, “Mom! It’s ready to drink!”

Morning paper routes, squirrels scampering at your feet
Pot brewed coffee at the firehouse to comfort and give you heat
Pokey, what a dog, guarding your every move
Mrs. Mackey’s sweet bread waiting on her front step, just for you

Being the showoff at every Boy Scout meet
Giggling girls and bulged eyed boys always unsure of themselves
Pine creek, swimming naked, free, perhaps a glance at the competition
That wonderful cigarette behind the school, enjoyable because it was forbidden

Mom’s city fried chicken made with pork
So tender to eat no need for a fork
Dad’s advices like you never want to go to jail
Mostly because some big bully will want a piece of your tail

Those crazy aunts that drank like fishes during the penny poker games
Oh the woods, truly created for children, their secret domain
What treasures we found there, what treasures we hid there
Returnable pop bottles that financed our candy addiction

Now there are many more like this but I’m going to stop right here
To say we’ve shared many things most certainly is clear
It’s what binds us together, the cement of our lives
It’s our sameness incapable of disguise

Yet, beyond all this similitude there lies a private garden
Planted with the most personal of seeds
They bare the fruits that give us our uniqueness
Seldom shared, yet longing to, we divulge them only to the nearest of near

That day at age five when I sensed I had what I then thought was the curse
Sitting there behind the hedges holding Ronnie’s hand, giggling
Purring as a cat being belly rubbed, trying to understand why
Not once thinking of right or wrong

Then in fifth grade, walking home from school with my best friend
That damned purr again, the purr that forced me to run
To end a valued friendship, I couldn’t share the truth
If I didn’t understand how would anyone else?

Then my first real crush, consuming me, overtaking my life
Bradley, tall, slender, cute, sweet, smart, really an Adonis
Sitting cattycorner from his in English class, my eyes soaked him in
My first real knowledge that all men are not created equal

Then in the ninth grade finally, love
I could think his words before he said them
Spent hours adoring every move, every word from his lips
When he returned my love my private garden flowered

It was okay, I could love another man and he return the love
Such a wonderful memory to keep to myself, still I did
And many more to follow as I weaved in and out of love
Adding sweet memories to my private garden

Now my friend you see how much the same we are
How many things we shared as we cultivated our private gardens
You not telling me your secrets or I not sharing mine
Somehow, it really wasn’t that important, you learn that over time