Tuesday, November 8, 2016

Election Fright by Mark Ryan

Election Fright by Mark Ryan
We all waited on election night
With such trepidation and fright
Watching the votes trickle in
As the crowds filled with chagrin
Voting stayed open till eight
Waiting for that terrible fate
The polls tipping up and down
As we smiled and then frowned
Would the woman vote count
Or the ethnic part surmount
Could it be a populace tally
Or an electoral rally
Some predicted a landslide victory
Others a disappointing memory
Would there be hope and caring
Or more hate and despairing
As the clock ticked away
We filled with worry and dismay
Whatever the ultimate result
Be it happiness are violent tumult
We were tired of the same old thing
Hoping a change would bring
But so afraid that democracy
Will change to mob rule or tyranny
Only the history books will tell
Whether it was heaven or hell

Friday, October 21, 2016

Trump Trouble

Trump Trouble - by Mark Ryan
More Trump Trouble
To burst the electoral bubble
Dealing with the Presidential Race
That has put the US in disgrace
Seeking the office of President
As he fondled without consent
A contest between a man of wealth
And a woman of supposed stealth
Accused of being misogenous
Calling her nasty and disingenuous
He thought himself so Bigley
But others thought him Piggly
She said he was Putin's puppet
Like a marionette or muppet
Fixing the vote and pulling strings
As he hacked the net with pings
Releasing timed wikileak emails
With all the sorted details
Asked if he would accept the vote
Only if I win he quickly wrote
I'll keep you in ominous suspense
He said to make matters tense
They both sat at a charity dinner
But only one came out a winner
Cracking self deprecating jokes
About the DEM and GOP folks
She stayed within her party line
As he pined, wiggled and whined
They laughed at her comments
And booed at his off moments
The night ended in dire disgust
Sadly not knowing who to trust

Tuesday, October 4, 2016

Creative Writing by Mark Ryan

Creative Writing by Mark Ryan
I've been asked to speak
At the high school this week
It's  Ms. Desberg's writing class
Which I know will be a blast
Young minds so eager to learn
Always watching every turn
All it takes is a good imagination
To write without procrastination
Letting your mind fill with ideas
To spark the interest of your peers
You can edit so much later
Just write each word no matter
Explore the far reaches of space
Or the oceans without a trace
Don't conform to what's right 
Just write with all your might

Wednesday, September 14, 2016

Getting Old by Mark Ryan

Getting Old by Mark Ryan
I just got my brand new ears
And it really brings me to tears
The hearing aid kind
Cause I'm deaf not blind
The voices are now so clear
I don't believe I can really hear
All these years without a sound
Lost in the woods looking around
How much have I truly missed
Some could have been the best
I wish I had all those memories
Of words lost in the gently breeze
Where have all my faculties gone
Or am I just tooting my horn
My taste, my touch, my smell 
All my senses have gone to hell
It's tough getting feeble and old
Crumbled up as mildew and mold
In the end they can harvest my teeth of gold
Put them on ebay and mark them sold

Sunday, September 4, 2016

Oklahoma Quake by Mark Ryan

Oklahoma Quake by Mark Ryan
Today there was another quake
It startled me wide awake
I jumped out of bed
Horrified with dread
I prayed loved ones weren't hurt
The bricks all falling to the dirt
It's all because of that fracking
And the ground beneath cracking
Drilling to find a new oil source
All they do is make it worse
Over four thousand holes now
How many more will they allow
Filling their pockets with gold
Until our blood runs cold

Calming Effect by Mark Ryan

Calming Effect by Mark Ryan
My dog sits beside me.
As quiet as can be.
Wanting me to stroke his fur.
I certainly do concur.
Having an animal pet.
You can surely bet.
Has a calming effect most definitely.
And brings you both serenity.

Thursday, September 1, 2016

Affordable Rent - by Mark Ryan

Affordable Rent - by Mark Ryan
I listened this morning on the radio.
With Marge and Jim a while ago.
They talked of rents on Mission Hill.
They have all skyrocketed to kill.
A single bedroom is now two grand
That is outrageous and out of hand
I remember paying just thirty five.
Rooms like cells in a beehive.
Back then I made 100 a week.
And I thought that was the peek.
Near the bakery on the 3rd floor.
Living in 4 rooms we just adored.
A school nearby for the kids to go
It was great to watch them grow.
The corner store had all your needs
The local paper even flower seeds.
A bag of penny candy for a nickel.
You could even buy a sour pickle.
Those days were quite simple.
Teens worried about a zit or pimple
Today we have sex and drugs.
The city is full of killings and thugs.
For this we are willing to pay.
A kings ransom but its okay.
I'm near my job they all say.
So hurry and join without delay.

Men's Breakfast by Mark Ryan

Men's Breakfast by Mark Ryan
It's eight o'clock at the center
All the guys are anxious to enter
The coffee is brewing
And we are ready for chewing
You can hear our tummies growling
But no need to be brawling
Terry and Laura are at the stove
Making toast with so much love
The conversation bounces around
A variation of topics surely abound
Terry tries to address the crowd
She needs to raise her voice aloud
We all quiet to hear the message
She says there is more sausage
When we are almost done
With all the laughs and fun
We return our table and chair
Against the wall with upmost care
Until the next time we say good bye
Tip our hats and wink our eye

Sister Ann by Mark Ryan

Sister Ann by Mark Ryan
It's now the twilight of her years.
I try my best to hold back the tears.
The cancer has metastasized.
The pancreas has increased in size.
I remember our younger day.
Filled with fun and loads of play.
We lived in a mixed neighborhood.
All the houses of brick and wood.
When the bridge came to town.
Vacant lots became our playground
The mystic river flowed nearby.
As we played all day outside.
Toys we made from things found.
Whatever was lying on the ground.
We never dreamed of having much.
Just our caring mothers touch.
Later we went our separate ways.
Going to work or more school days.
Now full circle we connect again.
Sharing our lives now and then.
We converse over the phone.
Recalling the good times at home.
Counting the days to say goodbye.
Hoping to meet again up in the sky.

Sunday, August 21, 2016


By Mark Ryan

The world is steeped in turmoil
The constant fight over more oil
First to curb mass destruction
Later to find the wrong deduction
Now there is world jihad
Against non believers, it's so sad
Why can't we just live in peace
And stop the conflict at least
Belgium, Paris, Orlando
It's around the world we go
Killing for killing sake
Another life they take
Can't we just have equality

And all live in harmony

The Clothesline

The Clothesline - by Mark Ryan

I could hear the rooster crow at the crack of dawn.
My dreams would have to wait till the daylight was gone.
Up with the sun to start my chores.
Washing the clothes and waxing the floors.
The ringer washing machine was full to the brim.
You couldn’t put any more clothes in.
After the washing cycle the clothes spun dry.
And the spinning stopped at the blink of an eye.
You could see the water empty into the sink.
Now squeeze the last drop through the ringer quick as a wink.
Out the back window the clothesline was strung.
To the back yard tree the clothes would be hung.
With clothes pins a plenty the linens were draped on the line.
To dry in the sun on the rope to the tree would be just fine.
Each season gave the clothes a unique smell.
Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter you could always tell.
But Winter was the most adored.
Pulling in the dried clothes stiff as a board.
All of a sudden the pulley let go.
And the clothesline hung loose as the wind did blow.
I called my young boy to climb the distant tree.
And rehang the rope that now hung free.
Like a monkey my young man hopped from limb to limb.
Retying the loose rope to the pulley nice and trim.
The line was now ready to support the full load.
Thanks to my boy who hoped off the tree like a jumping toad.

The Drought

The Drought
By Mark Ryan

This was the summer with no rain in sight.
The garden crops all shriveled from the wilting blight.
The farm animals all gathered at the empty trough.
Their throats all parched as they sighed with a cough.
Not a drop to drink as the spigot ran dry.
All the dust accumulating in the corners of their eye.
But after weeks of dry air the clouds did brew.
From out of the west and through the valley a storm grew.
Black nimbus spread across the sky as the wind did blow.
The clouds filled the sky and thunderheads did grow.
You could see the flash of lightning illuminate the sky.
And then the clap of thunder gave a loud cry.
Finally the torrential rain was about to arrive.
And allow living creatures to grow and survive.
The drops began to fall from the heaven above.
A good soaking of water we would all love.
But to our surprise the drops fizzled out.
As we all frowned with a disappointed pout.

Thursday, August 18, 2016

A Running Mate

A Running Mate
By Mark Ryan

The Donald picked a running mate
Which will surely seal his fate
He chose governor Mike Pence
Who will help build the giant fence
Or is it a huge wall
Can anyone recall
Getting Mexico to pay the freight
By installing a toll gate
Over, under or through they go
Those that work the fields that grow
No gringo would choose such toil
They would rather drink boiling oil

The Garden Fence

Garden Fence
By Mark Ryan

As I watch my garden grow
The tomato vines move to and fro
A gentle breeze whispers by
As hungry critters give me the eye
They dream of one big bite
In the quiet of the dark night
But I have built a high fence
To stop their friendly pretense
With electric wire to give a shock
And stop the pillaging of the flock
But I leave the lawn clover nearby
For my garden critters to satisfy