Category Archives: Story

Ode To Family

On this day of birth, I will look back and see,

And tell of all the love that was given to me.

It was not long ago, nor much time to certain eyes,

That I was a child, who would receive many a surprise.

But the greatest gift ever given to me,

Was the love that would make me to be.

Looking back I can tell and remember of many a reply,

That would build in me and within, my strength solidify.

Though the years have come and given us leave.

I will never forget those within my family,

Who have loved this child and have formed my eyes,

I will remember all of them, for they are my prize.

To them I owe all of what I am to be,

For they made me be who I am to be, Me.

 

-Coram Deo

What the Torturer Couldn’t Do

He cut on my sinews,

And smashed on my head.

But its all he could do,

And from it I little bled.

 

What hurt me the worst

Was not beholding her frame

How I couldn’t see her words

Or caress her lovely name.

 

Oh to not see my ardor

Please don’t ask me again,

I would break any door,

Just to be with my friend.

 

Alas there is a door

Too strong to break

When he stands there

My strength to take.

 

Oh sickness is evil,

My friend he is not,

He casts upon the vale

And rides in the rot.

 

To feast on flesh

He thinks himself mean

But its not that flesh

That really hurts me.

 

It’s my heart in truth

That bears all the pain

Separation bit in its tooth

And my strength did wane.

 

Oh when will it end

My absence from her?

So I can again attend

My affection with her.

The Unsatisfied

I buy and spend all that I can,
Just to satisfy me.
I learn what I can to understand,
Just to satisfy me.

I do not understand why it does not
Help to satisfy me,
These things do not, that sit and rot,
Help to satisfy me.

I begged all the rot that I bought,
“Oh please satisfy me.”
To that which I bought, “what is my lot?
“Oh please satisfy me.”

My lot is to grasp not in my hand,
What will satisfy me.
For that in my hand is like the sand,
What will satisfy me?

So falls the sand, to grieve my heart,
Never to satisfy me.
Alas! The dreams of my heart do depart,
Never to satisfy me.

“Depart foul dreams, I want you not,
Do not satisfy me.
I love you not, you vile dark spot
Do not satisfy me!”

Now in this spot my heart does rot,
For it will not satisfy me.
In this rot I cry at the thought,
For it will not satisfy me.
by Ryan Wormald

5-14-09

Petrol

My heart is soaked in petrol
And I am in fear of many things
For all that surrounds me
Seems to burst into flames.

There is a fire in her bosom
There is a fire in her eyes
If I get too near to her
I might catch a fire.

Look at all that money there
At those little feet a dancing
There is much danger there
And an evil uprising.

Oh those little flames are hard to see
And if I get too close, that it will be;
My end will too quickly come
And in fire my sin will consume me.

Be careful child of the fire
For around us it lies
Seeking petrol to burn
And flesh to turn to lye.

Our hearts at any second
May burst into flames
Not sparks to be put out
But unholy consuming flames.

My precious friend I implore
This you must do and find
If you wish to live next door
To this petrol world of crime.

There is a red water
From a side it once flowed
And there must your heart live
Underneath that holy flow.

For in this red water
Lies many attributes
In it fire may spread no farther
And in it the heart becomes new.
The fire that burns all around
In eyes and hands and pretty things.
In this water does drown
And cease their dreadful burnings.

When a heart in petrol lay
Meets with water so pure.
There night becomes day
And flames loose their lure,

And there a heart won’t
As easily like to burn
And there it becomes anew
As water’s attributes it learns.

Then in the end we find
A heart a fresh anew
Now very hard to turn to lye
As dead things become new.

by Ryan Wormald

Oh the Beauty of the Sky

Oh the beauty of the sky
This world and this time
In it is felt the pulse
A loving rhyme

Once I was blind
Could see no truth
Held a snake
Felt its poison tooth

How sad it is
The pain that is felt
When light hits your eye
And leaves a welt

I felt the ground
And the covering sky
Felt the falling rain
And gasped a sigh

To die I thought
Would be good
I would leave tonight
If I could

The sight I beheld
Wasn’t grand or pretty
Until his hand
Was offered to me

You could almost say
That line in the sand
He far crossed
He walked my land

It was as if I died
Saw visions of stars
And blood and life,
And then those scars

How wonderful the sight
The view I did see
Of blood that flowed
And it covered me.

Oh the love in a touch
The warmth in a breath
The joy in a kiss
The beating of a chest

Beauty in pain
Love in a sigh
It wasn’t felt for me
Tell to me He died

by Ryan Wormald

Almost

I nearly lost my way.
Lost my identity.
Forgot who i was,
And who i would be.
So i plant my foot,
and cry to the sea
“thou art nothing,
thou cant hold me.”
With this thrust,
this wave of the hand,
I turn my back
and leave that sand.

by Ryan Wormald

Raining Dreams

Down a dreary window sill
Runs a drop of icy chill.
Inside sits a boy of dreams
Captive to his thoughts and themes.

Outside a swallow sends out a call,
It’s the weary time of fall.
On the swing a child plays,
Dreaming of his latter days.

Dreams and their captive themes
Hold many like wooden beams:
Days pass like living plays
Still dreams hold up our maze.

Chill is life without window sills
For they shelter us from what’s real.
Call to me dream sparrow or I fall,
Fall from my goal and it all.

by Ryan Wormald
10-3-04

While I Was Sleeping

When I caught a glimpse of her eyes,
I knew that I was caught
They were as dark as night flies,
And from their grasp I couldn’t be wrought.

Her dark beauty spelled my demise,
I knew that I was bought,
For those flies burned my disguise,
And left me there, where I always sought.

Her soft voice didn’t surprise,
But calmed more often than not,
Lacking any hint of lies,
I wondered if it would ever be fought.

I desired those fly filled eyes,
More than you or I ought.
With that crime I found my demise,
And discovered I would always be caught

By the woman with dark fly eyes
And soft voice sugar lies,
Who always flies after my demise
In my dreams and their hollow lies.

by Ryan Wormald
9-2-04

The Man in Black

One morning I went for a stroll
Just a walk, with no place to go.
While on this outing, I heard some shouting
“Hurry up, man, you’ll miss the show!”

The tone was mocking almost squawking
And I felt it cool and chill my spine.
I hesitated while my response was debated,
“How should I reply to such an insolent whine?”

When I turned reeling with a feeling
From surprise, I saw his cold hard eyes.
Peering almost leering, they were a black night sky,
And in those flies I beheld my demise.

“What”! I yelled “is the meaning of this greeting?”
All the while I was caught in his eyes.
Not blinking, hardly breathing he slowly replied.
“I am here, have no fear, to be your demise.”

Now you must understand my surprise.
There I am walking, not with talking, by
This man, whom, on seemingly a whim has cried;
Whose eyes have prophesied to be my demise.

“Good sir” I asked with an attempt to pacify.
“What have I done to receive such a look and cry?”
His hard finger, like a long skeleton’s bone
Stabbed at my chest, at my heart it pressed.

Coldly said he “I your demise will be.”
Still standing, I was staring like a herring
Who is sadly peering down a clearing
At the gun that flashes life before the eyes.

It was at this time, that I realized, my demise.
His eyes did not lie, but prophesied right
To my mind, exactly what he wanted to sigh.
And this sigh my courage it did buy.

My fear now started to appear, but slowly
Like a slow killing disease it first took my knees.
My knees now knocking, I now felt my chest locking
And I knew surely now I cannot really flee.

Filled with a fear that frees the mind,
I, for a time lost control of that mind,
Which now danced with dreams of death, and lies,
Sorrowed by my own demise, and those flies.

Laughing, now I would try him to pacify.
Mingled with a cry my words did fly.
“Good sir, I implore you, patient with me be,
But I couldn’t ignore the first statement you explored.”

Trying now, so desperate to free my eyes
From those flies which prophesied my demise.
I though I could distract the one
Who would or could possibly bring my demise to me.

“At the first of our meet on this street,
Your warned me with a shout to watch out,
Or I would have passed by without so much a cry,
A show from which I don’t even know.”

“My good man said he,” with a grin and a gloat
“I only said that to catch your poor goat.”
“And now it is caught and forever will rot
For from me your soul cannot be wrought.”

Shrieking almost slinking, I wished to run away
Not with him or his whim did I want to play.
But he only repeated that I was defeated,
And now I could not help but to believe it.

It consumed me, and struck down my tyranny,
For now, from him, I could not want to flee.
My eyes did change dark like the night skies,
Like those accursed filthy flies of demise.

It was at this dark time, my entrapped mind,
Heard a word, or three, it heard something speaking to me.
Was it my thought, or from the ill man wrought?
These words that were speaking while peaking in me.

“It was me” was the words that were tearing,
Tearing almost wearing my soul for me.
But what could it mean for my sea,
These three who would now not let me be.

Repeating, they were beating all his gleaming
And all the while preventing me from dreaming.
My eyes lost his flies and at once saw the sky,
It was starry gleaming, and full of meaning.

Now looking here and there turning everywhere,
I found that the man in black was nowhere.
He had disappeared and left me somewhere,
It was near my home, where I started my stroll.

As I went in I paused along with a tear,
At my parlor’s dark wood and glass mirror,
The one in which my reflection never ceased to appear,
It was here and there where we would long stare.

As I look up to see my old friend again,
In the mirror that tells me no lies,
I saw my demise, looking at me with a grin.
And his eyes burned dark to flies.

Dreams of night skies and pitiful lies took
My mind and for that time I say the sky.
All reasoning did flee and with heart beating,
My mind was repeating, “My demise, my demise.”

Before I could cry I did realize that in one eye,
His flies followed mine perfectly by and by,
And it was at that moment, at that time,
I realized that his flies were mine.

And now forever I walk with myself and me;
That cold dark man will never from me leave.

by Ryan Wormald