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Best Poems Written by A. Ryeter

Below are the all-time best A. Ryeter poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Blackberry Bush

Blackberries start as white dots in a sea of thorns
The flower will fade, and a green berry will join
Protected, it will grow and be pink
Safe from even a massacring mink
Larger, it will swell until it is red
No enemy can lay down their head
Darker and darker until it is black
The berries are ready for an attack
Sour, but delectable
The thorns are detectable
But what about the thornless blackberry bush?

Poor girl, she starts off white
Like the others that night
She grows into a misshapen berry
Unlike the others (who are), lucky? Very.
She stays as the others grow
Poor berry, behind she tows
The rest are protected by thorns of steel
But this poor one just needs a deal

From green to pink to red to black
The other blackberry is held far back
If only she could get some thorns
To protect her from the world's horns


The neglected female, without protection
Her parents have given her no love and affection
The other ones shall grow strong
Their parents are never gone

-September of 2020

Copyright © A. Ryeter | Year Posted 2020



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Snake On The Brain Revision

Today John McDain
Is in bad pain
The sirens could kill
But he escaped it, he will

He's at the doctor,
Who'll give him meds
And maybe just some
Comfortable beds

"There's something in his head."
The old, frail doctor said. 
"I can't find out what it is."
But what about the scarlet liz?

He looked and poked and pressed
Until he found a dent in his chest
The snake had taken it out
Easily, without a doubt


Tightly wrapped under his skull
Pressed against the hard bone
He didn't know what it was
It pressed his brain down to a nub

John McDain began to get ill
The medical doctor gave him a pill
The pill did nothing
His brain kept scrunching

Until one morning he lay on the floor
Hands in his hair, curled like a snare
He scrunched his eyes
Let out a cry
And laid there still.


With a pop and a crack, blood leaked on the floor
Poor John's brain was no more
The red puddle covered the floor
His skull broke open, he'd lost the war
Out popped half an eggshell
Leathery, hard to tell
But then a snake slid out his head
And across the red blood he had bled
Blood red with hollow green eyes
That could easily pierce the night skies
The snake seemed never-ending
For it was depending
On John's scarlet blood
To give it the rud

The snake, seven feet long
Explored the humble bed of John
And then slithered off to find some prey
Remember John's Snake On The Brain.


The red snake found a victim
Fast asleep, she ignored him
He flicked his tongue and ate her whole
Poor little Miss Patty Moore

The snake grew a yard every day
Feasting on people as its main source of prey
It at the doctor, the teenagers, too
Until ecnaV stood with his mighty crew

They battled the snake for 30 days
Through water and sun and foggy haze
When finally the snake was beat
ecnaV got a wonderful treat

His crew went home proudly
The people in the streets cheered loudly
They took a piece of the snake's scales
In their heads echoed the mighty wails

-Originally Written in August 2020, Revised in September 2020

Copyright © A. Ryeter | Year Posted 2020

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Haiku

The magnolia
The frontsman of the spring
The pear is jealous

Copyright © A. Ryeter | Year Posted 2020

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Platanus Occidentalis

Bessie, Honey, and Lee
Three old sycamore trees
Along a river with the one
The only man who hadn't run
The women were ate,
The men died late

But now at one hundred
He was the only one unhunted
Bessie, Honey, and Lee
His only sources of glee
They kept him company
As good as they could be

He stroked them, kissed them
Imagined they were real
He reached out for her hem
But that he couldn't feel

He cuddled them, loved them
They were his
Until one day
He saw a crow, not a liz

Lighting struck Bessie dear
Oh, no! Oh, no! The end is near!
He tried to keep her
Water her and clean her
But then she died
To his surprise

Devastated, he loved Honey and Lee
But Lee became a fungus tree
He tried so hard to make her live
He couldn't, but he tried, he did

Honey was left
Honey so dear
Until Honey
Gave her last cheer

The man was in pain 
With no love and refrain
He curled up with Honey

And he was gone.

Copyright © A. Ryeter | Year Posted 2020

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Skink's Tail

The man who took the tail of a skink
Is safe from the chocolate mink
He stopped on foot to breathe to think
The man who took the tail of a skink

He gained the powers of the magical skink
He grabbed the strange unknown link
For now he could see with the violet eye
He looked inside, to his surprise

With cool, smooth scales
Runs in swampy swales
He ran to the home of the girl who once loved him
To pay her a visit and see how she's been

Through the dusty roads
Dodging heavy loads
His fast feet ran
To go see her man

To the white brick house
The rain would douse
He squeezed between two bricks
To see if his hardy gal was hitched

He couldn't see much from the floor
No bugs and roaches or spiders or more
The skink ran out the way he came
Into the dusty, dry lane

He found a way to perch on the sill
After he climbed the clay hill
He stared inside, motionless
As he waited for his lovely tigress

His imagination ran wild
As her counter was tiled
Rich and pretty and same for me?
I don't know, we'll have to find out and see.

He waited and waited without any glee
The sun went down, out came the sea
He failed to oblige the dry heat
So when his princess came back
He was a shriveled heap

She didn't know what it was
She swept it out just because
She 'knew' the terrible luck a skink
Would bring to someone on the brink

The mummified skink decomposed
As he sat and cried his poor woes
The skink's tail gave him magic
But the end result was tragic

Copyright © A. Ryeter | Year Posted 2020



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The Tortoise

The tortoise sits like a bump on a log
The people think his mind's in a fog.
But really, he's seen more than you think.
Enough to make you shock and rethink

He's seen battles of war,
Invasion and more.
He's got a hundred years more
Then you have been born.

Seen presidents and news,
Happy times and blue,
Styles and songs,
Rights and their wrongs.

But now he sits in a cage
Passing his days
As children stare in awe,
He waits for the call.

Copyright © A. Ryeter | Year Posted 2020

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Change

I'm tired of these gothic poems,
Why not write something cheery for Halloween?

Pumpkin seeds and spicy dreams
Orange and red and little Ted
Goes out to play, today, today
Jump in leaves and hang from eaves

Skeletons and docile winds
Autumn love, and turtledove
Snaky rains and growing pains
Rocking boat and rocking crib

Orange, yellow, red, and black
The plump mean woman cease the smack
The child runs free to the neighbor's door
To get their love and treats galore

Change like the falling leaves

Copyright © A. Ryeter | Year Posted 2020

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Runnin' Through the Strawberry Fields

Runnin' through the strawberry fields
The fields of Leeganin
In the body of a little girl
Only about waist high

She wears a smooth dress that flaps in the wind
Her bright red curls bounce with her bounds
A little boy watches her
Unknowing about the future

Maybe one day they'll marry and have punnets full of children
Maybe one day she'll stomp and smother his heart like a stream of smoke
But until that fateful day, I'll sit and wait
Runnin' through the strawberry fields

Copyright © A. Ryeter | Year Posted 2020

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The Numbland

The end is near
Virus is here
One hundred and eighty thousand
Dead, poor dear

Pack your bags
Your coats and shoes
We're going to the land
Of endless blues

There is peace from being numb
After you've lived there awhile
The cold bad news leaves your fingers numb
But after a while you seem to forget
And everyone there stops giving a sweat

-September 2020

Copyright © A. Ryeter | Year Posted 2020

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The Thing

The monster in the hall
The demon in the closet
The banshee in the hamper
The lizard that can't crawl

It wraps around your arms
Like a heavy black snake
The thing's sadistic charms
Will leave you awake

It has cold, metal skin
That will doubtlessly in
With fingers like knives
That easily take lives

The thing is huge: ten feet tall
With glaring yellow eyes
That attack at surprise

It comes from the land where nothing grows
And nobody there in the land knows
What peace and bliss and gladness are
Because the good land is so afar

The few in the bad land are unlucky troops
Fighting and fighting the thing
They want to be in the good land far, far away
But The Thing assures the The Thing will get its way

The Thing can't be touched by anyone but them.
The Thing simply can't be destroyed.
The Thing's murders are very grim
Especially when

You're next.

Copyright © A. Ryeter | Year Posted 2020

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