Ryan Cole Poems

There is no malice in her
All the little wounds she brings
are accidental or providential,
but always inadvertent
...

Tangled …

(like the cord to my earbuds
...

Words strung together
to express a thought as yet unknown
A simple melody
a line of notes
...

Shelter she offered
so briefly given
but how could it be
when she was the tempest
...

He was once so strong
He stood taller than the sky
His voice roared like profane thunder
Now, I tower over him
...

A father and son
kicking a soccer ball
in the alley below
while mariachi music
...

Like water
Dribbling through the cracks and holes
leaving a puddle on my heart
Like dry ice dropped in a glass of water
...

A year later and I am still lost
How can it be that I was your low point
and you were my high
You ask why I hate him so much
...

The moon,
Two days past full
Pale in the light of morning
Framed between two date palms
...

His silent world

Who is to say it’s any less
...