the guts of this fish

I am a face
in a cage
masquerade tamed
these masks are for my yesterdays
this hook is for my mouth
I am floundering
and considering an exit

I am sel fish
and pretty messy
with my guts all spilled
my scales reversed
you don’t know how to dance with me
this music is all wrong
and nobody hears it quite like I do
in this current

I am a waste
when I can’t clean up after myself
my heart is darkening
and my head is tired
so many people depend on me
to be happy and alive.

I am so fucking intense sometimes
it drives me away and slams me into the edge
before making me see sense
I can return to it again
I am considering leaving.

© ryan

Currently unavailable for purchase

It is what it is.

thank you for the homepage writing feature 16/12/09

Bitey, metaphorical and ambiguous little writes.

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  • Lisa  Jewell
    Lisa Jewellalmost 5 years ago
  • bill bell
    bill bellalmost 5 years ago

    It may be the polar opposite of what some people may be used to from you, but it’s still fine writing. You didn’t say i couldn’t dance with you, I just don’t know how. Enjoy your work PJ hope you’re well :)

  • Rhinovangogh
    Rhinovangoghalmost 5 years ago

    PJ, I had a friend once who was brilliant but occaissionally went blue on himself. He needed sunshine and fresh air and had to loosen a grip he had on a bottle of poison he felt compelled to drink. When his grip loosened he got a better grip on what was good and pure and decent and worthwhile. Now he holds on like a bronco -bustin cowboy and even when thrown he gets up and shakes off the dust, Broken so many bones he limps. Some say he has hit his head so much he is goofey. Every thing he ride tries to throw him but the flinging sensation of his corpus in the breeze albeit momentary is a thrill. He was holding on to life with one hand for all he was worth, writing sonnets in the air with his waving free hand. {Break} Black and white was the newsprint he was mentioned in, blue was the color of the morning sky, he saw looking up from the ground where he died, it was the last thing ever seen by him. And the roses in the window box have tilted to one side. But that is just another tale made of lyrics and lies. I love reading it as I do your stories. Check your grip and tell me how your pen feels in a week. Looking forward to seeing your next piece. Warmly, sincerely, brotherly,fatherly, collegially,Jerry, AKA Rhinovangogh

  • Matt Penfold
    Matt Penfoldalmost 5 years ago

    You are a gutsy fish Nic, I hope you’ll mullet over for a while before you put on your leatherjacket and look for another plaice… (I couldn’t help myself)

  • seeker19
    seeker19almost 5 years ago

    Beautiful, witty and touching. I think a lot of people, esp women, like comment on this because there is so much to relate to – well, I certainly can anyway :))

  • Soaps
    Soapsalmost 5 years ago

    I say crank up the raw fish, filleting helps ged rid of all the crap. Nice work!

  • prefabric8
    prefabric8almost 5 years ago

    Nice one PJ. Visceral and tormented. Trawling a net could lead to regret. But catching you in it might mean he will win it:)

  • Arcadia Tempest
    Arcadia Tempestalmost 5 years ago

    fish guts and all….I would get my hands dirty in your words anyday….xoxoxo

  • BiographyofRed8
    BiographyofRed8almost 5 years ago

    Wow, I so missed reading your writing, I have been away for too long, coming back to read again, your words are powerful, direct almost yet still with the same wonderful way of weaving those metaphors through the more direct meaning.. fantastic work!

  • Peter Wickham
    Peter Wickhamalmost 5 years ago

    I enjoyed this Piece Ryan – maybe because so many can relate in their own personal way. Good piece

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