August 22, 2014

City Of “Angels”

The smell of nail polish burns the inside of my nostrils.
Across from me sits a woman in what I would say her late 60’s, trying to will the disguise of her early twenties. Fail.
Her oversized breasts are synchronized perfectly with her Botox injected lips. Bloomingdales and cock are the only two things coming in and out of that mouth.
I glance left just to see a spitting image of herself; forty years younger. As if it were a mirror capable of beating the hands of time.
They call this the City Of Angels. I call it the City Of Timeless Whores.

-RP

June 6, 2014

T-Shirts n Shit

She molded to my body
Like that of my favorite
Gray t-shirt
You know the one
Frayed neck
Cotton warn in to
Perfection
Not too tight
Not too loose
Rips, tears, stains
Beauty marks
Character
No other shirts like it
Man…
I miss that t-shirt

-RP 5/6/14

June 5, 2014

Next

What comes after

This winter?

Old bluebird asked

A little brutal

This winter

What comes after

This kiss?

Old love beckons

Is this it, boy?

A little empty

This kiss

 

What comes after

What comes next

What is the next move

The next play

What comes after

That last line

Where’s the next hit

The next shot

The next spot

To make a quick buck

Stick around long enough

To catch the next wave

Don’t get washed up

By the new age

How was that story

Supposed to end

Oh it’s improvised?

Easy enough

For you

 

Ryan Rowland- June 2014

June 3, 2014

Why Not?

Every now and then they ask
“Why do you risk it all?”
It’s simple
You see,
All we have is the moment
The Now
We never know
When this will be our last chance
Our last kiss
Last beer with the boys
Morning run with the breeze
Night between the sheets
With the one we love
So you ask “Why?”
I respond
“Why not?”

-RP

May 7, 2014

The Good Ole Days

From time to time
The corners of my lips curl
Thinking of the Good Ole Days
From time to time
My eyes widen; Brighten
Thinking of the Good Ole Days
Everyone knows these days
Holds these days
Cherishes these days
My lips just curled
Thinking of the Good Ole Days.

-RP 5/7/14

April 29, 2014

Clean

Inspiration comes from

Scrubbing pans

Golden Slumbers in the kitchen

On a Tuesday morning

Thinking about whether God exists

and smiling

Because the Italian parsley plant

is still alive

Remembering what Mom said

and did

And how she shaped a life

That’s not so bad

 

Ryan Rowland

4/1/2014

April 8, 2014

Winton and Detroit Ave. Lakewood, OH

Ringing bells from
A dramatic Catholic church
Cloak generations of kids
Tossing snowballs at passing buses
Nuns adorned with rosaries and
Irish drunks cursed with red cheeks
Pray for the Tribe
A hazy head shop
Wholesome hobby store and
The 7 a.m. barber crowd
Pay homage to eras past
All while Lake Erie
Keeps a close watch
On my block

Ryan Rowland
April 2014

February 28, 2014

Fear

I went for a stroll down the narrow path. My bloodshot eyes finally mustered up the courage to gaze out from behind my decrepit eyelids.

A fork in the road…

I glanced left. What if you do?
I glanced right. What if you don’t?

Fuck that… I’ll take the subway.

-RP

February 23, 2014

Words for the Soul

It’s the beauty of the unknown which drives me. What keeps me from ripping my oily hair out of my spinning head. That mystery, and acceptance of that mystery, is what keeps me coming back for more. My thirst; never quenched. So I head to the refrigerator to fill up my glass.

-RP

February 20, 2014

My Perception

I’ve come to realize that reality exists only through the windows to soul. The reality I’ve come to know is made of systems. Systems which interact with other systems. My fingers mesh with my keyboard. Click. Click. Click. My feet squish into my rubbery yoga mat. My sweat splashes on the overly sanitized hardwood. My eyes gaze into the endless darkness. Was it the sky or my mind? Same difference. Nothing really exists or matters unless if I perceive it to exist. So as I sit here and type I wonder. I perceive. My reality.

-RP