Dan Reynolds Poems

Foreword

An Adelpha Cytherea changed the cycle of events,
as she left the rotting tree and flew to ground.
...

I recently had reason for a boast
when emptying my bowels in great haste.
I felt the need to raise a glass and toast
my puerile prize which others see as waste.
...

I often wonder where my future lays
within this less than great, inhuman race.
Rewinding, analysing all he says,
whilst practising my empathising pace.
...

Before you start to write your sonnet down,
a little help with rhythm may well aid.
Two kicks, the horse began to canter round
with alternating stress, the tune it played
...

The fall into the wasteland

Standing on a cliff top they once borrowed from the breeze
in search of synchronicity, the pulse began to flow
...

Catching up on reflections.

So there we were, two old friends in a bar,
remembering the laughter we had shared.
...

Have you ever sat in judgement on the view before your eyes?
The painter paints the picturesque, and revels in his lies.
He sees the rural bungalow beside the river's rush
but dams the damned kinetic flow, and lo, a lake falls from his brush.
...

Suppressing the moments the mind chose to chase.

Sometimes, pictures, quickly conjured up
cannot convey the horror they inspire.
...

Good Lord, who took his child in time,
in time to shatter this black night.
The deepest purple's so sublime
and silhouettes the fireball's light,
...

There is a little corner in a sepia coloured shop
that hides a silhouette inside the grain,
A sobbing child is briskly making headway with her mop
as countless customers insist on dragging in the rain.
...