The lonely road
Heads down the ravine,
Away from where I stand,
To further solitude,
Disguised as a path,
To the bottom of the earth,
Out of reach of the moon,
A path that needs no light,
For my heart knows it well,
Just having been.

By Ryan Gibson

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Was it ever going to be the same,
The people who walked holding hands,
Like our grandparents before us,
Stuck in their soul like the shoes,
They wear from the generation before,
The way of their times of being a man.
As I walk with my daughter,
I can see him in her life,
Inevitably.

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To Sharon Hancock

I can hear the most wonderful laugh inside my heart from you,

My ears warm with sensations of pure angelic fun,

Giggling and carrying on like little kids, of which we are two,

Tea time while the traffic passes with the fading sun,

Contemplating all the people in our lives and spirits,

Initiating thoughts that a moment of silence merits,

In loving memory of the vibrant life we shared day to day,

Our love for you will never ever go away.

By Ryan Gibson

With the most sincere love to my friend Sharon Hancock who passed away this weekend of the 2nd and 3rd of October 2010. I will miss misbehaving and hearing your wonderous roaring laughter. For every smile I brought you, I cherished the ones in return for we had so much fun together. My mother and I wish we were there with you when you past away but in spirit we were always with you. It is hard to believe you are gone, for it was only yesterday.

*I have put much time and money into the Cancer societies globally, and I encourage others to do the same.

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Scrambled Eggs and Cucumbers

I recall a day when I heard your voice in the walls

“Daddy – Bottle”

“Daddy I want my Bottle”

When you were gone I would awake in the morning,

Sometimes out of the reflex… yelling,

“Coming Cala, Coming Baby Girl, I love you.”

Only projections of of her voice in my mind,

The room and house, empty.

In emptiness I often yearned to hear,

A little voice reply to my yells in the air,

“Caaalllaaa, Caaalllaaa,I love you my baby girl.”

Of which I would imagine you

Telling me that you love me

“I love you Daaadddyyy”

I can hear it now…

Often I would find my solace in Scotch,

Sometimes in Guinness or wine,

Sometimes in a poem.

Uncertain of the future, often still and opaque,

As time past, our time together came,

Summers, Easter, and Christmas,

Those cries for a bottle changed,

To scrambled eggs and fried potatoes with ketchup,

“She can’t have eggs every day” her mother would say,

How does she know?

When we watch TV, it’s cucumbers, vinegar, and salt.

My father only knew how to cook an egg or make cucumber,

An immortalized family trait,

I suppose what I am trying to say is that I grow with you,

I cherish the passing of generations of love,

The voice is loud for me again,

Time is forgiven for the past as for what is now,

And what the future brings for us,

Your eggs and potato are almost done,

So come sit with me my baby girl,

I love you Cala, I love you.

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Another year has passed,

Another length of grass,

From which field you grow honestly and green,

In excellence, I watch not a baby or seed,

Passed single integers to double integers,

A young woman full of vitality and life,

My little woman.

Once who followed my lead,

Now cares to lead herself,

Who once relied on her parents for happiness,

Now finds Happiness in herself,

Contentment, rooted in her field,

Comfortable inside of herself and on the ground,

Owning the earth she stands on,

But knowing I stand in this field besides,

And if you bend, bend into me,

As I will keep you erect and in the sun,

Photosynthesised by the attention of God,

And the goodness that brings to you, in you.

By Ryan Gibson

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Poem 1

Your aura was the first I saw

Full of flowers, especially the rose

Even in the night pedals bloom in awe

To move my hand in the air, open and close

As to attempt to feel the presence

The majestic and unordinary essence

Of pure unhindered sunshine

A star in the eye of mine

Which always remains

In sight but out of touch

Poem 2

I proposed marriage to the air last night

For your essence lingered afloat in passing

As for a moment I could grasp a bushel

Of pure essence of love in your fragrance

Where the ethereal takes some physical form

Materialized by genius of being

A mist of casual release

That in a failed attempt to bind I asked

Would you stay with me forever

Which only left me a faint trail to follow

Poem 3

What lines of love I carry across the earth

And songs I sing and praise of love in Johannesburg

The places I have seen far less entice

Then her curves, her mountains, valleys, and springs,

Dark natural beauty, the source of beginnings,

I place my heart and faith in your city

Which so designed has taken all I have to spend

And all I have to give

In return, I can hold onto its jewel

Far more precious than rare metals of a star

Shining with greatness so as one can see from afar

Makes the burden of feelings carried a weight of worth

The songs I sing and praise of love in Johannesburg

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Poem 4

I wish to tremble with your touch

To desire, to fly in emotion in flames

Feeling the burning and seeing the bright

So as when I finish I return from wood to ash

Completely run through with embers so as

 Remains of which no life could be

Distinguished by the black resin of

Passion extinguished for the excess of

Air that fed the last morsel of life inhaled

The Tree No More

I decided to move out of the trees

Pinocchio nor raw wood no more

For I was tired of being written on

Of truths amongst trees of things that fall

Of which the world has no care for at all

Among them I had more than seen enough

Many of the same thing discussed anew

Of which I choose the rank and folly,

For a better view of humanity

Of which chaos is a great refuge for sanity

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Pardon my ignorance on the definition of trust,

Play it hard, play it rough, all for this I must,

Firm reliance on the integrity, ability, character of these persons,

For every step forward I take, in its name it worsens,

For once what was a reliance on something in the future, hope,

Now appears to be doubts, of which we ask can love cope,

A charge of which is laid, a breach, of which confidence,

Has no fidelity or virginity anymore, its compliance

And compromise, versus my vision of us together

One which is that of affection, faith and love forever.

Version 2

Pardon my ignorance on the definition of trust,

Play it hard, play it rough, all for this I must,

Firm reliance on the integrity, ability, character of these persons,

For every step forward I take, in its name it worsens,

For once what was a reliance on something in the future, hope,

Now appears to be doubts, of which we ask can love cope,

A charge of which is laid, a breach, of which confidence,

Has no fidelity or virginity anymore, its compliance

And compromise, versus my vision of us together

One which is that of affection, faith and love forever.

But what surprise should I have for love and hate of Greatness,

In God We Trust.

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Walking in front of me as often is,

I look where your neck meets

The curly black small hairs on brown skin,

Of which I recall kissing,

Running of my tongue,

I chase after this moment,

As my hand eases over your shoulder,

Slowing you down.

By Ryan Anthony Gibson

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Dusk seems to antique the earth,

That which a flame can achieve from a single candle lit,

In such dim moments does love give birth,

Igniting the very fire we missed in the extremes,

In clarity of day or blackness of sleep,

Seeing what we want to see aged in a moment,

Whether the first time, or golden anniversary,

The feeling it’s been there forever,

Love which will be and is.

By Ryan Anthony Gibson

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Battery of the sky in passionate thundering slashes of electricity,

Like blazing whips flung across the world and snapping,

Beautiful display of natural passion that brings fear,

No wonder generations past think this is a God’s work,

So does that fear develop in the electric storm of love,

Of which brings both fear and admiration in its power,

The ultimate control of space and sky as if nothing else existed,

Or was alive accept the flashes of absolute divinity,

Causing my heart to race and mind to fascinate in awe,

The moment is now where we make our own energy.

By Ryan Anthony Gibson

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