Wednesday, October 29, 2008

neither the first nor the last
that I will feel this way
I am heartsick and mourning
loss that never really was
I am mourning words said
and unsaid and yet
another set of regrets
I am keeping this secret
hiding the hurt
craddle it in my heart
and bury it beneath
the detritus of life

edited 5 November 2008

© Cynthia Ryder


Wagon & Wild Horse

Tonight I tried to explain what I thought I heard you say last week, without saying love.
You are still the wild horse, driven by the wind and weather. You will always run as the lead and you will always break from the pack.
You still dance on the edge in places I cannot go and do not understand.
I have a wagon of hopes and dreams and memories of us, that you would have me empty. But you have promised me no provisions to refill it except my own resourcefulness and my own sufficiency to pull it.
There are no guarantees, no sure thing. The di have been tossed. Their spin will take good time to stop.
The words you say to others, you won't say to me to give me hope. You turn my words back on me and sharpened with time, they cut deeply.
I do remember, and I will mourn you because you are a beautiful creature that has dressed the landscape in motion and colour.
All things that are released free to the wild may come back to us. You are released and I will return to my work of tilling the soil and planting seed for future use.

29 October 2008

Note: half and half, seems to work here as well as in coffee
© Cynthia Ryder

Monday, October 27, 2008

Halifax 2

I remember wrapping my arms
around myself to find warmth
and to hold myself together
I remember watching
you walk away out of sight
I remember turning to face
an empty sterile space
with an empty heart
and fallen spirit from the 7th floor
I remember the void and wanting
and running hot water to bathe
and for comfort from your leaving
I remember sinking my body
into the bath and my mind
drowning in memories of you
I used water to hide the tears
on my face and wished
the same water would wash
not only your scent but you
from my memories for all time
I remember that I cried
until I was cried out in cold water
I knew that I had lost again
and I promised myself,
that night in cold water baptism
that I would never feel that pain
again it was a promise i didn't keep

26 Ocotober 2008 (edited Oct 29)
© Cynthia Ryder

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

tonight i wrap myself in silk
that are the lull of your voice
and the caress of your hands
tonight i will dream of you
and knowing with patience
that dreams may come true

21 October 2008
© cynthia ryder

6 syllable message sent

you are not the person
that i want to hear from
you are a rebound man
you have been there for me
i know that i have helped
you helped myself to you
in times of my deep need
and with your needs too now
but you are not my need
you are not an answer
you are no solution
i see you as becoming
a problem one in need
of solving one that needs
salvation from himself

21 October 2008

a note on this: later in the day, i did hear from someone that i did want to hear from. a treat indeed.
© Cynthia Ryder

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Old stuff

i would choose to
consume your pain
though i know it little
i would choose too
love you completely
but in my logical
questionable wisdom
i choose not to tell you

you have defeated me
with passion
laid waste to my body
and my sole
but you will never know
falling weak
i curse myself and deny
you victory
love, rage is all mine

Note: Old material that I recently found, post-Toronto phase for those that know me, which still has some meaning today

©Cynthia Ryder

Saturday, October 11, 2008


you touched and marked me
the scar is hidden in my soul
a deep and precious wound

the scar is about self and power
direction determination
our passion dreams and desire

the legacies of others in your life
the demons in your soul
marked you and formed you

those scars defined your goal
gave focus, sight and clarity
defined self-preservation

you show strength and courage
safe in your remembered shadow
i will use your legacy now

and make my own way
find the edges of my life
and dance with past demons

11 October 2008
© Cynthia Ryder

Monday, October 6, 2008

once upon a time

i would have been happy
making his bed
i would have picked up his socks
and ironed his shirts
and quietly performed
the domestic duties
of removing dirt and smudges
from the surfaces
and corners of his life
softening the sheets
where he laid his head
while softening the lines
of his face and warming
in his embrace and smile
i've been caught again
in a fairy tale
but the questions remain
would i have been happy
making his bed...

6 October 2008
© Cynthia Ryder