N. P. Ryan

Author ~ Poet ~ Music Lover

Skip to content
  • Home
  • About
  • Contact
  • Shop
  • Blog Feed
Search

food

I Scream at Ice Cream

June 12, 2021August 30, 2021 / N. P. Ryan / Leave a comment

It’s summer: the weather is scintillating (for a change); so what could be better than ice cream?

Continue reading →

Fruits of the Loon: Banana

October 25, 2020December 18, 2020 / N. P. Ryan / Leave a comment

A four part series on the joys and disappointments of fruit. Number Four: Banana

Continue reading →

Fruits of the Loon: Apple

October 18, 2020December 18, 2020 / N. P. Ryan / Leave a comment

A four part series on the joys and disappointments of fruit. Number Three: Apple

Continue reading →

Mustard and Cheese

August 9, 2020August 16, 2020 / N. P. Ryan / 2 Comments

Thoughts, deliberations and considerations on the subject of mustard and cheese: Continue reading →

Animal Crackers

April 12, 2020September 15, 2020 / N. P. Ryan / Leave a comment

In 2019 while visiting an animal sanctuary in the UK, I found myself faced with hypocrisy of monumental proportions. Continue reading →

How to Give Good Blog

October 27, 2018September 15, 2020 / N. P. Ryan / Leave a comment

Everything needed to know in under one-hundred and twenty-five words. Continue reading →

Categories

  • A Life of Crime vs. the Free Market (6)
  • All About Medusa (4)
  • Diary of a Mad Pest Controller (7)
  • Full Blog Feed (160)
  • Music (21)
    • General (11)
    • Reviews (10)
  • Odds & Sods (23)
  • vs. Poetry (108)
  • vs. Social Media (11)

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

Dark Side of the Lawn

Dark Side of the Lawn

I love the smell of freshly cut grass in the summer. Do you cut yours in a straight line or with a twist like this? With thanks to Marcel L. for use of the image.

That was indeed I

That was indeed I

Poetry without comment beyond thanks to Sincerely Media for use of the header image.

Face It

Face It

Poetry on a subject as divisive as Marmite: feet. With thanks to Toa Heftiba for use of the image.

Three Covers One Band

Three Covers One Band

Three songs made so famous by one band it’s often not realised they’re covers

Southern Avenue

Southern Avenue

A short story about a real place. With thanks to Daniel Frank for use of the header image (not of the actual location).

My Tweets

Copyright © N. P. Ryan 2022

  • Home
  • About
  • Contact
  • Shop
  • Blog Feed
Create a website or blog at WordPress.com
  • Follow Following
    • N. P. Ryan
    • Join 107 other followers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • N. P. Ryan
    • Customize
    • Follow Following
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar
 

Loading Comments...