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Ryan J. Mccabe Poem
Spring speaks of promise beginning anew,
While winter winds whistle of being true.
Summer shouts like ferocious violins,
Buzzing warmth of Sun delivers up-chins.
Fall's voice is favoured, it's song's not of loss,
Her trust is heard as though hallowed glass-gloss,
Her breathing, laboured, is suggestion-filled.
Taste of her drink from the farmed rows, distilled,
Her season of the cultured cup, it brims,
And sounds of fingers circling wine glass rims,
For such delicate ring's language of choice,
It sings, it is Autumn's breathe given voice.
Copyright © Ryan J. Mccabe | Year Posted 2020
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Ryan J. Mccabe Poem
Put me in coach, I am ready to play,
No more killin' time to just kill time, eh?
I've considered the green, I've judged the lay.
Enough cancelled skies, no more rain delay,
I'll take the baton, run in the relay,
Flyin' in the grass, playin' on the clay.
I'll keep obligations, right on the lines,
Look for my signature, look for my signs,
Ev'ryone's gonna see Heaven's own pines.
No more hangin' 'bout, take my piece of tree,
I'll make the pitch, swing for the bleechers, see?
Now, I'm gonna make it the game of me.
It's somethin', somethin' fierce still lovin' you,
Open the Sports Illustrated tissue
I'll be healed of all that ol' scar issue.
That gem y'know: best offense, good defense,
As for the best defense: "let's not take offense..."
Ask me, though, I say, "What's the difference?"
'Cause I'm here t'argue each and ev'ry call,
So, y'all best keep yer eyes on that there ball
While I'm pointin' out where I'll best the wall.
We are so sad and know not why, do we?
Cities teamin' with teams, incitin' glee,
Makes ya happy playin' the game of me.
There's great int'rest in me joinin' some club,
C'mon, I am the Walk-On, "...there's the rub.",
Believe me, they'll raise a cheer in the pub.
Get 'em goin', watch me winnin' the pitch,
Home v. Away's all the same to me, Hitch,
Just spell my name right, I've got that same itch.
I'm ridin' high 'gain, that ol' powered horse,
Acing the course again, of course, of course,
But, I won't use "...a little too much Force."
No more just watchin' all them people bleed,
I'll be on guard 'gain, "Oh, say can't you see?",
Lovin' the rush, winnin' the game of me.
Copyright © Ryan J. Mccabe | Year Posted 2020
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Ryan J. Mccabe Poem
Oh, how the Autumn fills me with such a formidable rage,
Heat retreats, there ain't no justice, not near enough to suffice,
I'll be Hades bound before surrendering my staff, my page.
My Fall Collection follows me, it crawls across unjust ice,
Surrounded by dreadful dimness where pitiful devil dwells,
It's a dirty business, I'm left with but a sliver of soap,
I thirst and drink darkness, drunk with discontent the Winter swells.
Yet, feeble illumination somehow Springs, it gathers strength,
And the madness passes, the cocoon worn as filthy fashion
Becomes a sorrowful shroud I shred apart 'long the Day's length.
As Summer's warmth returns 'gain, risen from out of my passion,
I am ready to go, sword in hand, finding it so much fun,
Let the Night fly with me, for it will know that I'm too much Sun.
Copyright © Ryan J. Mccabe | Year Posted 2021
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Ryan J. Mccabe Poem
As the times do change, gravity's no well,
Based on past returns divine tomorrow,
So many obsess 'bout how others fell,
'Scape velocity's the air to arrow.
Energy equals mass times lightspeed squared?
It's all just theory, so who the who knows?
Recall how the eyes of Heisenberg fared,
Everything changes when we put on shows.
Explore all about, Cosmos is our bout,
There's always home to visit, just in case.
Discov'ry needs determinations shout,
They flow in, they flow out, those currents of space.
I'll search this pebble, find my own verse,
I'll know it well, this entire universe.
Copyright © Ryan J. Mccabe | Year Posted 2020
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Ryan J. Mccabe Poem
It's time to believe again for yourselves,
All in search of something, perhaps some clue.
It's buried in the books found on the shelves,
Steadily study something which is true.
It's time to make time, the future starts now,
The moment's precious, so give it a show.
They're mana from heaven, milk from the cow,
Within them find yourself reason to grow.
Great authors grant escape velocity,
Do it, go on, take up the shaky spear,
The pen dragon's works of immensity,
Your spirit will know the Ionosphere.
Discover Heaven: find something to read,
Fill your own soul for it's John Glenn's Godspeed.
Copyright © Ryan J. Mccabe | Year Posted 2020
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Ryan J. Mccabe Poem
Lilly, yeah, in winter the yards know snow,
As I know ice melts, yet can be re-stored.
Say fine-line feline, ya don't wanna go.
How many built-up banks must I yet fjord?
It's not just your voice that ya look to throw,
Lovely liquid not so readily poured,
You're mine, c'mon, let's say "Make it so",
I'm not blind anymore, my Bravest Nord.
I'm HypeRion, but that you must know,
Since you were savin' most of my hoard
While I flew in the grass so very low,
Time returns, let's see what all can afford.
We never go so far out of our gourd,
The Hour's come 'round 'gain to take up my sword.
Copyright © Ryan J. Mccabe | Year Posted 2021
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Ryan J. Mccabe Poem
Please, baby, please don't ever leave me all alone,
Always stay true to me as I'll be true to you.
Today and every day's time I must atone,
Tomorrow is ours to solve, we'll find each new clue.
You're my future and history, as one we'll write.
Losing you'd crease my most intelligent design,
Another woman would simply smear my intent,
Just as other men colored you outside the line,
Open hearts we share, 'round which we'll set a new tent.
Kindle ours, a hot flame that will never be doused.
"I am your man...", as Leonard sang, "..you're my woman."
Never have I been so absolutely aroused.
Einstein failed when searching for such a solution,
Not you and I, for we're the magic dilution.
Copyright © Ryan J. Mccabe | Year Posted 2021
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Ryan J. Mccabe Poem
Say stand up, Comedian, where's replies?
Enough of your play-acting dead: your meme.
Flick the sand far and away from your eyes,
Your hands soiled with residue dust of dream.
Explain it All, everything that's occurred:
"Lily, Rosemary, And The Jack Of Hearts",
Now the Comedian's finally stirred,
We need to laugh, learn, laugh, think, learn our parts.
Comedian come back. Now, now. Arise,
This world is everything, as it seems.
Look all about you with them, those, your eyes,
Stand up Comedian, make sense of dreams.
Copyright © Ryan J. Mccabe | Year Posted 2020
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Ryan J. Mccabe Poem
- after Rihanna's lyrics for "Umbrella"-
Let's go, go retail,
Yes, I love you, I love you in all that intimate detail,
You bring out my savage stock,
You make a monster of me, freeing sure lock,
Fly 'bove the weather, whether or not
we're kept in store,
My Madame Ambassador.
Let' em talk talk,
Hey, my Isle'd Madonna, where you at? I'll walk.
You are my heart,
Not thousands of planets apart,
So Cosmopolitan,
Neopolitan,
You are my diamond,
Baby, my nightly fund,
And, that's when I need you there,
We will share our share
Because...
I'm Sunshine, we'll be forever,
My Moon, we're stars when together,
Say you'll always be...
Copyright © Ryan J. Mccabe | Year Posted 2020
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Ryan J. Mccabe Poem
Unwrap that silly Cellophane,
Present my aspect, "Hey, Arkane!",
Should I dare that old window pane?
Let's laugh at that ol' weather vane.
And, who are you, my Crazy Jane?
Am I your target to attain?
I'm not so simple as Ethan Crane,
I'm a lock, sure, so sing refrain.
Who's the last word on who's in-sane?
'Cause it's the forecast rain, rain, rain.
Potential pushes promised grain,
So now, bring it on, rain, rain, rain.
I stood like that pale-towered Dane,
Yet, no more stalled whipped-ass wain,
The road's not too mired to sustain.
It's the time to just pick your strain.
Signaling to make the fast lane
The rush of traffic is no bane,
Velocity first to attain,
Fadin' away's the turnin' stain.
Who's the last word on who's in-sane?
'Cause it's the forecast rain, rain, rain;
Potential pushes promised grain,
So now, bring it on, rain, rain, rain.
Play it for me, "I'm On A Plane",
Hear me madam? Now raise yer cane.
Not waiting on some train in vain,
The hand me down, the walking Cain.
Paint up the valve marked as main,
Won't exhaust beauty in my brain,
Present my aspect, "Hey, Arkane!",
"'Tis a silly place.", Cellophane.
Who's the last word on who's in-sane?
'Cause I'm the forecast rain, rain, rain;
Potential pushes promised grain,
Now, ya know it's on: Rain, Rain, Rain.
Copyright © Ryan J. Mccabe | Year Posted 2020
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