Ryan Cole

Rookie - 1 Points (August 27,1961 / Santa Monica, California)

Ryan Cole Poems

1. Perfection 6/21/2010
2. A Place Like Home 6/21/2010
3. Untitled 6/21/2010
4. A Lullaby 6/21/2010
5. Revenant 6/21/2010
6. State Beach, Sunset 6/21/2010
7. Last Night/This Morning 6/21/2010
8. Bouncing At The Pint 6/21/2010
9. A Love Song To Beautiful Girls... 6/21/2010
10. Gifts 6/21/2010
11. Stupid Moon 6/21/2010
12. Welcome Home 6/21/2010
13. Wildflower 6/21/2010
14. Sleep With Me 6/21/2010
15. Damaged 6/21/2010
16. A Sunday Afternoon 6/21/2010
17. The Dry Wash 6/21/2010
18. Lost Dreams Of The Fallen 6/21/2010
19. For Jennifer F 6/21/2010
20. For C 6/21/2010
21. Ten Weeks And Two Days 6/21/2010
22. Muse 6/21/2010
23. Shelter 6/21/2010
24. Another Time (For K) 6/21/2010
25. Without 6/21/2010
26. The Transit Of Venus 6/21/2010
27. Sleep 6/21/2010
28. Numb 6/21/2010
29. Light From Another Room,6/23/10 6/23/2010
30. Vanishing,6/24/10 6/23/2010
31. Like Water 6/24/2010
32. Her Tears 6/24/2010
33. An Absence Of Rivers 6/24/2010
34. Rarity 6/24/2010
35. One Last Thing 6/21/2010
36. Stupid Moon Redux 6/21/2010
37. Too Long In This Place 6/21/2010
38. Without Malice,6/26/10 6/25/2010
39. Tangled,8/20/10 8/20/2010
40. I Will Drink... 8/20/2010
Best Poem of Ryan Cole

I Know Nothing About The Rain (With Apologies To T.S. Elliott,9/1/11)

Do you still love me, she asks
fragile moment, simple words
Fear and longing mingled like our breaths
hanging precariously in the air

People talk about the weather
To fill the savage spaces
Empty Silence, empty words
And we talk about the weather
What can I say
What do I know of the weather
Falling gently, scattered drops
What do I know of the rain

Do you still love me, she asks
In the interval between
What do I know of love
Falling gently, scattered drops

And in the rooms the women light as a feather
stand around talking about the...

Read the full of I Know Nothing About The Rain (With Apologies To T.S. Elliott,9/1/11)

Her Name

I try not to say her name
As if it held some power
To cast a spell
I don’t say it aloud
Though it is in my thoughts all the time
Bouncing around
in the empty corners of my head
Resounding like a bell on the door
Of an old shop

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