N. P. Ryan

Author ~ Poet ~ Music Lover

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Covid-19

Big dreams and worst nightmares

February 21, 2021August 30, 2021 / N. P. Ryan / Leave a comment

More Poetry for Pandemics, including thoughts on things that scared me when a kid.

1280px-Castle_Bravo_Blast

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Heat II

June 21, 2020September 21, 2020 / N. P. Ryan / Leave a comment

Poetry for Pandemics Continue reading →

Now is Not the Time (for Complacency)

May 3, 2020December 31, 2020 / N. P. Ryan / Leave a comment

Hello, hello.

With the current message from the powers that be so frequently being now is not the time for complacency, I can’t help but find myself harking back to the good old days when lack of care was king, dreaming of the glorious time it will be back again. Continue reading →

Gin & Bare It

April 5, 2020September 15, 2020 / N. P. Ryan / Leave a comment

It’s incredible. Truly. That even now the people at the top are still expecting their big fat slice, while the people at the bottom of the business ladder have absolutely no choice but get in even more hock to them just for Continue reading →

Covid-19 and What it Means for Zombies in Popular Culture

March 22, 2020September 30, 2021 / N. P. Ryan / Leave a comment

Covid-19 will mark a momentous turning point in zombie films/TV and, for that matter, anything of a post-Apocalyptic nature. Continue reading →

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Drinking in a dingy bar by the sea, crumpled postcard from Her and World’s Biggest Ray Zero for company; then the son of a starts saying I’m cursed. Praise Be to lighting-up another smoke. Inhale, taste a foul brand: the Hex She put on me. Promised Heaven, delivered a dive nightclub Hell. Thank the Lord for liquor loving hot chicks. Though nothing compares to how it’ll feel catching up with Her.

Wanted a quick bit of business and gone. Bath had other ideas. First, battered and left for dead after a hundred heart-breaking truths. Then a Police Chief with a saggy old treasure chest of secrets to keep needs a scapegoat. Dumps me in the middle of corruption so deep it eases through bone to suck greedy at marrow. With every gun pointing my way, Hell, not even He’s gonna get me outta this one.

Recent Posts: N. P. Ryan

The Incarnation of God Who DID Visit Weston-super-Mare

The Incarnation of God Who DID Visit Weston-super-Mare

While it’s safe to say Jesus Christ didn’t visit Weston-super-Mare, what about anyone else thought an incarnation of God by followers of a religion? How about that incarnation of God also being someone once given weapons and ammunition by the Nazis with which to fight a war? Or to up the ante more so, the […]

The Idiots’ Guide to Being a Successful Musician

The Idiots’ Guide to Being a Successful Musician

And what’s more it comes in poetic form! Header image (cropped from original) showing the Rolling Stones on stage by Jim Pietryga, 2015, licensing.

Handsome Devil

Handsome Devil

A.k.a. the vain atheist’s prayer. With thanks to Максим Власенко for use of the header image (alt text; a man visible from the waist up, naked, painted red and wearing horns, he looks to the camera unamused).

Hey, Teacher!

Hey, Teacher!

Contemplating the origin of teaching in abstract poetic form. With thanks to  Andrea Piacquadio for use of the header image (alt text; a teacher with an open book, looks to the class while pointing at a chalk board). 

Girls Like Us: Bitter ‘Til The Bitter End; a review

Girls Like Us: Bitter ‘Til The Bitter End; a review

Girls Like Us (GLU) released Bitter ‘Til The Bitter End the same weekend I caught the band live at the Chelsea Inn, Bristol. It was a blistering set, part of another top night there (In With the Inn Crowd), during which I was about to turn to a mate and say, ‘killer bass line’ only […]

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