America My Love, Refrain 4


Have you ever woke up to find

You’ve no one to confess too?

 

Yes it breeds sin terrible and true

to not have some outlet through and through.

I speak to this page and he keeps me sane.

I tell my stupid small secrets of self-pain

 

But I never hurt myself so bad

As a few kids in clad, black

Kids can curse and hack, hearty

Even if you’re a cute and tarty, queen

You can quite quick adopt a scene, dark

Start writing shitty stark, songs

Fill poems with wrongs, in word

Taken from blaspheming herd, dead

With long dysfunction dread, lost

To commemorate your holocaust, wedded

With the wrist-blood you sweated, quick

Almost surprised by the response to a flick, slit

 

But if the emo kids

took a paltry pause

and bothered to listen

They’d hear the conductor’s voice say:

 

Please keep your blood

inside the body

at all times during the ride

Please discard

all of your baggage

before boarding the body.

if you need help securing yourself

contact the nearest priest

 

Ah, yes…

I know the tunes quite well.

The squalling of various clientele

ringing along to the drum beats

of their internal hell

 

It used be that you had to gossip

and you had to churn

out every piece of humanity

In the story marked

on the face of your neighborhood

 

But now people languish

in facebooks and tumblrs

twitters and emails

 

Not an ounce abated

by knowing that cries of help

are so damn dated

 

It’s all there

Packaged and assembled

By the foot of your door

 

Friend four thousand and seven

Meeting a massive mid-midlife crisis

 

Friend three hundred and twelve

Trying to find a major in which to delve

 

Who knows?

Maybe even friend 3

slipping very silently

into the throws of insanity.

 

Oh, the humanity!

 

When you’re at the opera

be sure to grab

One of those Plush balcony seats

well above

The stamping of staged feet

the noise is distracting

And you might miss the acting

 

And don’t forget

Your petite pair of binoculars

You have hidden

beneath the flat of your cushioned throne

without them

You might just stare someone to stone

with the squinting of

Your eyes so prone

 

~Austin R Ryan

Advertisements

America My Love


First Refrain

 

down and out in the cold by tenth street

are all the women in forced heat

they peddle their wares

through sweet scents in their hairs

 

While boys in the black

Talk some vile smack

And the middle aged couples

Run through their scruples

 

Some men run so far

As to get in their car

And drown family fanfare

In that scented hair

 

The sixties sang

The seventies swung

The eighties fought

The nineties simply sought

And the millennials swallowed all it was

That their forefathers bought

 

There once was a man from Nantucket

Who liked to draw dicks so long

his followers imagined they’d suck it

He drew for the throng

For so damn long

That eventually he up and said

“fuck it”

 

He went to the store, and found it a bore

He barged into the bar, but tasted tar

He jumped to the gym, but was too slim

He pounced to the pool, but found it too full

 

So he finally flew to the farm

And with what little luck left,

He found it had some charm

 

They found him one day

In newly bought property

With a ruptured colon

And a horse that went all in

 

They say there was an artist

Who counted herself the smartest

even though what she drew was the tartest

 

With a hefty herp

and a deep old derp

She went to deviantart

To draw out her heart

 

She gave it her all

She put out her best

But the commenters put her

right to the test

 

She banned and she blocked them

Her reactions never stopped them

Yet…

As insults came to dominate

She learned to love the hate

 

But by the time she swung open the gate

The trolls trotted off

And the white knights went soft

 

All that remained

Were the ratings

So so stained

and

so low…

Seemed they had

nowhere to go

 

Her personality was so in detention

That from friends or from family

She could not find attention

Even the internet forgot her contention

 

So With no eyes left watching

With no time for proper debauching

She walked with rope and knot tied taut

 

 

To a bridge in the middle of town

Bearing a deep little frown

And Wearing a dirty old gown

 

She choked back tears

And recalled the sweet, sweet jeers

As she suppressed all of her little fears

 

And imagined, that she jumped…

Right into the arms, of her peers…

 

The suspension bridge never felt so suspended

The story was rough

But the ratings were splendid!

 

I heard once of a boy

Who loved to make himself a toy

Of sick obsession

And derelict regression

 

You know he could be a charmer

Once he donned a gimp’s armor

Many would say whips and chains

only gave him growing pains

 

There once was a time

When shame coated like grime

But confidence can cure aversion

So off he went with his perversion…

 

Those that knew him – when he had shame

Were quite quick to forsake his name

Friends met him – with excuses so lame

Family threw him off – exactly the same

That was, until he got some fame

 

When he flew off to the races

When he fell into piles of money

His mom went back to calling him honey

And his friends started to find him quite funny

 

One day our hero awoke

Went out for a smoke

Found his wallet full of cash

And his phone always a flash

He was a different breed

That one

A dominant submissive indeed

America my love

You’ve outgrown your manger

And I am afraid you are only getting stranger

I feel you rebel from the world

With your adolescence unfurled

You stopped being so slim

And you can’t settle on a hymn

You keep me up every night

Just so I might stare at your blight

 

~Austin R Ryan