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Best Poems Written by Ryan Blackborough

Below are the all-time best Ryan Blackborough poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Ryan Blackborough Poem

Pretty plastic

Pretty plastic people.
Pretty plastic play.
What you see is what you get.
And it's always the same.

As I look into the camera.
Back out through your eyes.
We know each others secrets.
Yet "believe" the other's lies.

Pretty plastic people.
Pretty plastic play.
What you see is what you get.
it's easier that way.

It's not superficial.
This glorious facade.
Keeping up the act.
Is always super hard.

Pretty plastic people.
Pretty plastic play.
What you see is what you get.
They're the rules it's not game.

I've forgotten who I am.
You've forgotten yourself too.
I'm sure that this normal.
Matters not to me nor you.

Pretty plastic people.
Pretty plastic play.
What you see is what you get.
When I'm done you're thrown away.

Purely fictitious.
A character you create.
Image equals status.
Only have to imitate.

Pretty plastic people.
Pretty plastic play.
What you see is what you get.
Why would anyone complain?

It's not disingenuous.
I always play it straight.
Clearly you're enamoured.
I'm pretending I'm not bait.

Pretty plastic people.
Pretty plastic play.
What you see is what you get.
I'm perfection on a plate.

Vanitys a virtue.
You're a stepping stone.
My new flashy bauble beauty queen.
Shows how much I've grown.

Pretty plastic people.
Pretty plastic play.
What you see is what you get.
The limelights faded you away.

Like the film in an old camera.
You're no longer on a roll.
Hanging up to dry.
In a flash negative of soul.

Pretty plastic people.
Pretty plastic play.
What you see is what you get.
And it always ends the same.

Details | Ryan Blackborough Poem

Timeless Tale

You are tragedy incarnate.
You're the whisper to the sky
That tore the world asunder
And you didn't need to try

Absolute opacity 
at maximum capacity
Fill your mind up endlessly 
With all the never meant to be

Wretched be this parasitic tag along you hide.
That filth you feed is evil, and it's time it ing died.
Betrothed be to misery, In confidant confide.
Hells nowhere you chose to be, It's always there inside.

Welcome. I find you're here again.
Funny how I catch you creeping back in now and then.
Used to be you'd stay as long as I cared not to care.
Now that I look back I left a lot of myself there.

The weight of all this emptiness, alleviates the (w)hole.
Now the mind is paralysed, it must destroy the soul.
Siphoning your entity to nurture the abyss.
Taking away everything to only give you this.

Seas are awfully rough, I hope the maelstrom abides.
The swift and gentle bliss, of her chaotic tides.
She will sooner drown me than she shift a single drop.
But the journey isn't over cause the journey doesn't stop.

Careful! I'm only here to help.
I saw that you were wounded, thought I'd nurse you back to health.
You're not captured.
Though it seems I've been myself.

Have some things that you might need. 
Guess just time if nothing else..
Perhaps you'll share some with me?
We'll keep it for ourselves.

You are mercy here incarnate 
You're the whisper at our side
That lulled the world to slumber 
So you didn't need to hide

Details | Ryan Blackborough Poem

Into my sight

And then I see her she slides into my sight steals away my darkness then replenishing with light.
She heaves a heavy sigh head aloft toward the sky. 
I know you've love to give me but I have to say goodbye.
I belong to no one, less resigned more so designed.
In a universe so vast I still feel so confined.
As timeless as all past and future left combined.
This realm it still escapes me therefore must be left behind.
Mortality, finality are both one in the same.
Death and fear and hopelessness to me are just a name.
Transcending the futility of hate and war and shame.
Though I'm not sad to be leaving I am happy that i came.
To know that one whom dwells below could capture one above. 
Proving there's significance in what is known as love. 
Weakening in mind and soul I feel her grip it shift.
Her hand it pulls away from mine to vanish in the rift.
Unknowing of her fate or in what endlessness she'll drift.
Only her in memory remains a precious gift.
In her softly spoken tone rings the echo of her sorrow.
I know you'll always love me but there will be no tomorrow.

Details | Ryan Blackborough Poem

Minor distractions

Wait beyond the earth is doomed.
Sun grew hungry, thus consumed.
Further wait until time tires.
Watch as all motion expires.
Unstitch all that has been sewn.
Witness that which can't be known.
Mould a shape that's yet unseen.
Remake all that has not been.

Details | Ryan Blackborough Poem

La Muse Bouche

I say to le "grand fromage".
You and your pastiche attachè.
You with all your rakish, cliche.
You think you're so Debonair.
You with another au pair.
You and one more rendezvous.
You again it's déjà vu.
You and another faux pas.
You always with Au revoir.
I say so much "bon voyage.

Details | Ryan Blackborough Poem

Janus

She's a goddess, true poetry in motion.
The kind that has you sacrificing yourself in devotion.
Hypnotised, I move her sway.
With no question of acceptance, live to dance in her ballet.
I found a light, a beacon of perfection. 
Then once I'm at worst I find it's lies and misdirection.

Details | Ryan Blackborough Poem

Backward is forward

Wake
The ever present enemy
Overbearing and oppressively 
Shadowing expectantly 
As forethought always secondly 
Two minds hang suspended be
Interrupting thoughtlessly 
Relentless and attentively 
Aressting so effectively 
Contented is left restlessly 
Thrashed into docility
Numbing the auxiliary 
Concerning such complacency 
Overwhelming this tranquillity
Resolute in the obscurity
Abstracting absurdity
With Orchestrated entropy
Worn out by pacificity
Sleep

Details | Ryan Blackborough Poem

Psychopathica

Subtle it's subversion it just catches the eye.
Can't tell which diversions really the greater lie.
Take caution it's pervasive yet it goes undetected.
Subconsciously persuasive now your mind is infected.
Unknowingly you've now become part of the collective.
Working towards your own downfall is the directive. 
Everyone's unique but that dare not be expressed.
Step outside the lines and find you're being oppressed.
Question the insanity you're seen as defective.
Grow your mind on clarity and gain some perspective.
The powerful are driven by a need for control.
Empathy is weakness basically rigmarole.
Feeding the division to keep everyone confused.
Far from idle hands are puppeteering the used.
Shadow games the projections are finely curated.
Join the dots the picture shows it's all fabricated.

Details | Ryan Blackborough Poem

Memory of death

Once sanctuary.
The uninviting undertones bellow in mourning.
A soured fate.
They say the deads sleep is endless, as my toll chimes, wakeless.
Still unsighted eyes.
With sickly bloodshot yolk, cresting as if to rise reborn.
Tarnishing sleek silvered rumination, in anniversary of the best forgotten.
Another empty plot fills a space better kept for the rigid, the disciplined.
Hands worn of time for nothing other than keeping bones wrapped. 
In unbound duty, spreading dirt, not to cover but expose.
Treadless stepping over and over the ghosts trampled in greater haste.
Who's borrowed words are sung as tribute,  in service striking back in self reverence.
Now hollowed breath exhumed.
To treat a lasting patron, the unintroduced, bares the yet collected as for tolled is all.
Reserving another debt to be owed in exchange.
They march with purpose they march for purpose, not in step. 
Peace will never reclaim them, for they know not peace.
Sleep remains a wistful dream.
Not to be conquered.

Details | Ryan Blackborough Poem

This is what you're about to read

Of course it's being judged, why expect anything less.
Comes down to discernment between comfort and distress.
Biases are natural, otherwise we'd all be dead.
So logically you'll instantly judge everything you've read.
So read this and then think again, with new mind reborn.
As semblances of story surface, with plot lines redrawn.
Subtly steering focus from the objective given.
Then suddenly reminding you to judge what has been written.