A poem written in November 2020, prompted by what exactly I can’t remember; there is truth to a degree in the words, and while this matters not to the reader, a need to expand on the actual facts took hold, from which followed a jaunt across the tobacco industry, teachers always being a-holes, a picture of my favourite gate, cheap snacks, Big Foot, how I used to live in the Lord of the Rings, laughing at my mum (sorry, mum), a real size but pretend Canadian Parliament, the world’s first dinosaur statues, and London’s most popular gorilla.
Author: N. P. Ryan
SÖNUS: Usurper of the Universe
Whirring into life like a comet lowrider being fired up, Usurper of the Universe is an ever expanding cloud of trippy space dust gritty with derision. Who, or perhaps what, is SÖNUS is a question the answer to can change with every listen; the six track album as much space rock opera—a beer and bong infused version of Queen’s Flash Gordon score with SÖNUS playing both band and Ming—as a frustration-driven social commentary not only on the world we currently live in but always have.
Anxiety
Winter Tree
I didn’t enjoy Christmas. I rarely do. This year had the added ‘bonus’ of me reaching the age my dad died at. I also realised it isn’t Christmas per se that isn’t liked. True, much of it isn’t, like the panic and stress about who goes where and what happens when they’re there, but really it’s that whole time of year weather thing previously mentioned (links below). The meal and all the drinking, any going out and socialising (assuming I can get past the leaving the house bit), I love and can’t ever recall a time of sitting morosely through any of that.
The River Runs Deep
Sometimes to help focus on a chapter I write poetry about it to set the mindset; something to read and get into the swing of things. The following relates to a book currently in the stages of final edit and formatting.
With much thanks to Barna Kovács for the image x
Incontinence Buttocks
Hello. To be fair the experience prompting this verse related to an issue in a front garden, not rear; but you try sourcing an image to match that scenario (much thanks to Monika Kozub for the one used, by the way).
Someone Else’s Towel
I read this to a friend, who in reply said it had a romantic ending; they were either being ironic or totally not listening.
With much thanks to Theblo Wup for the header image.
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Ode to Alexander de Pfeffel
It’s not nice to write mean things about the way someone looks; but I’m not nice, so there.
(btw: much thanks to Pixa Bay for the header image x)
Continue readingFor readers not from the UK, maybe even London: ‘barnet’ is cockney for hair.
The three worst things I’ve ever smelled
A recent conversation about what can be donated to homeless charities prompted the memory that inspired this list of terrible smells.
Enough
Potentially the unhappiest happy ending ever
N. P. Ryan 