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All posts by paulryland

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Figural Urn Fragment

300BC-AD700    Mesoamerica, Oaxaca   Artist Unknown Stone of stone lift gently your hard eyes and swirling round center point to something yet unknown trans- -fixed in earth’s most memorial of substances Bordered on all sides by flamboyant war dresses half men – gods and animals staring

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Streams and Mountains Without End

AD1100-1150    Northern Song Dynasty    Artist Unknown On a rocky precipice of silk dotted with ink and mountains and an endless panoramic families have made their dwelling found homes Scroll stretching he gave us a time to let timelessness flow like the brush-stroked creek pouring into

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Feathers of Avarice

Floating gently on rippling lagoon currents your head above the water flashing green and black you hide your pumping feet and dive below for an unknown survival I gave you a call left a voicemail filled with love in steady tones and speech disfluency sunlight

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February 27, 2016

I met a dentist at a small apartment party. I walked in knowing the hostess from two short but stimulating previous encounters, and as a stranger to everyone else. By 3am I was rapping with nearly everyone. Not because of anything I did, except wander,

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Something There Was in the Night

The day came when I had to look away when the earth in all its blurry pint sized stillness rippled in beer glasses half drunk and looking out onto the quiet hillside where studded against dark passion lay mottled specks of trees and grasses blowing

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The Air Feels Like Rain

Dust like empty words blows vacant through the streets Dusty day dusty month dusty year Dust fills mouths like cinammon drool drips past barricades Time lets no man know when wrong walked in the door when children learned to cry when children became foot soldiers

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Peeping Frogs

I saw you in a painting the day after that time at the pond – translating peeping frogs’ calls with their metronomic messages of love – where you swore to never ever be bored again You were flanked by an angel looked heavenward with a

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I gathered a million of my closest friends around me to run blindfolded through the forest. Our goal was to make it to the other side without hitting a tree. None of us did, which is a shame because we were trying to recreate that

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Won’t Get Fooled Again

Tree so soft so spindly why must you do me so why must you do to me what so many of my ancestors have done to your ancestors why must you tower Clouds so white so fleeting why must you taunt me so why must