Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Waiting for you

I am waiting for you to change
to become more like him
if you had his patience
and his pain
would you seek it out
and buy it for yourself
would you ask to be chained

I am waiting for you to talk
to say you are like him
if you had his words and voice
and his courage
would you tell me all
and sell yourself completely
I will be waiting for you

© 25 August 2009
Cynthia Ryder

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Ack! not one of my finer moments

I want to write to you
directly to you tonight
to tell all my news and then
my new insights this week
but now I can not do it
I will not write to you
because I miss you
and to write brings it home
to feel it more than before
to know that you are going
I would hold you back here
to me tightly to keep you
safe and warm and loved
but I can not reach you
so far away and going
further still futher away
into another world with them
without me as a part of it
but it is a part of you
apart from you though
there is nothing I will do
I will not write tonight

© 23 August 2009
Cynthia Ryder

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Not Poetry

Interview Op Taken

The blogosphere is an interesting place.

I was contacted this weekend by another blogger to participate in an interview that has just been published on their blog: The Pakistani Spectator. To hit the interview directly: http://www.pakspectator.com/interview-with-blogger-cynthia-ryder/

Thanks for giving me the opportunity to put myself out here in the big wide world.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

dark demons

my dark demons of depression come
clanging up the stairs across the threshold
their tentacles slither and slide around
the door a creeping fog swirling
full skirted dancers offering a hand
to join the razzle dazzle on the floor
flashing strobes of magic light
magically changing back to darkness
and suckling me with toxic thought
while twirling me about the room
captivating and colourful until
they change and show their truth
as creatures holding all the light
keeping it just out of my reach
while wrapping me in their arms
turning me around and around
dizzying I fall prey to them
they descend and devour

© 12 August 2009
Cynthia Ryder

Tuesday, August 11, 2009


the gaping maw of ragged teeth
hang in a massive oozing jaw
its blackened licentious tongue
forms in the turgid flesh called life
and fixes in me in its gaze again
threatening to gnaw upon me
break me to a bloodied pulp
swallow digest eject my remains
as fetid matter good for only
the lowest life as fodder
for creeping vermin inhabiting
dung piles and the rotting heaps
that is the viscera of humanity

© 11 August 2009
Cynthia Ryder

Monday, August 10, 2009


my thoughts keep drifting in the current
floating back to your projected death
to a time when your friend will be there
holding me up, keeping me afloat
telling me what I will never know from you
but you have told our friend
how much I mean to you
how often you spoke of me
that I am the one thing
the beauty in your life
that lit it briefly in moments
of our connectedness
saying I was the sought object
beyond your reach
that you will not ask for
If only you did and I had known
tell me now, reach for me from beyond

© 10 August 2009
Cynthia Ryder

Sunday, August 9, 2009


gathering storm clouds to the west
indicative of our next conversation
grumbling thunder in your voice
quick dashes of blinding light
hint in your eyes as you speak
I can see it growing on your face
the dark mood and greying colour
rising to your cheeks puffing out
attempting to keep it checked
but the rain will come erupting
in a moment when the weight
grows upon you and it is too much
to hold back the container cracks
wide open cry for me your tears

© 9 August 2009
Cynthia Ryder

Tuesday, August 4, 2009


conversation lingers in my mind
pause as you catch your breath
lay yourself bare presenting
the facts then your feelings
follow the words with action
lay yourself bare in person
present your body for inspection
in my mind, my fingers press
on your chest touching deeply
reaching to your soul and hold
you there in the moment in time
the memories are real pictures
the pictures real from the time
but time fades and enhances
your roughness and my pleasure

© 4 August 2009
Cynthia Ryder