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Poem
 chaos seeks an impression
this paved means to extend 
leading to the latest of bitter ends 
the intent of happenstance
suits my pen
down to the motives 

compromise strives for a process
the page in my view
staring back and still labeled new
determination is the method
for the road less traveled
turn on the next block you'll see the sign posted 
 “ no trespassing”
                                 
the page turns menacing
absent any verb to interfere 
nothing at all and everything you hear 
desire so vague it breeds unsure
not a single phrase
will accompany this fear 

the resemblance to emotional blackmail
drowning ex husbands in waters deep and still
running a risk as they dare to tell
the truth in a crickets yell
from under the stair 
a towering blank page cast a shadow flare
this is an insult I am sure

driven by belief, I am at peace
images from a wedding suite
woke me screaming to be free from the mystique
disturbed left me frantic
looking for an Axe in the place I keep ex-husbands 
blending with daydreams and aspirations 
a torment fueled in basic vengeance 

an unexpected reminisce hit like a flood
that familiar twang is just no good
ex husband number four loves his ballad 
no song can penetrate this hatred
in retrospect I was thinking how number hubby one proposed
vaguely reminded of ex husband number three
gone after stating he didn't like AC/DC

the first look is the test
followed with the sideway glance
the invitation to dance
the melody slipping right by my defense 
moving in a rhythm intense 
a simple beat begins to unwind 
a slow unnoticed will that is mine

the shock of ex number two
the leading man to a chorus in blue
harmonizing all those absolute regrets
the need to speed around an old rendezvous
ex-number five racing straight into question for two
“ would we make the same mistake, if we knew”

torn in a struggle to open the front door
as if one or all of them standing there
minus years of despair
looking for one last truth or dare
the true life story of love with five angles
portrait of romance disaster’s 
                   
our weddings each very unique
now reality keeps me mean 
unless there is a time machine 
perched on my front stair 
there are no last chances here

this is where love's been traded for disdain
it came with a lock and chain
there are no visible paths leading back 
to these angry remains
there is nothing here
resembling I care

the upkeep fell from the windows ledge
a place of  sitting for sleepless again
staring into the night sky 
the brightest star caught my eyes
twisting, turning a great light 
shining in and out of  sight 

spinning silver and fading gray
soring from the heavens to die
no remorse, not a single cry 
the smallest things hidden inside
that is where I reside 
and just like that
I was in the wake 

a page no longer blank
in the new day 
about using numbers for ex husbands instead of their names
written while senseless or insane
the place in between half asleep and a dream
the page content no longer paralyzed  
last seen flying for the sunrise                        





Terry D’Arcy-Ryan
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