Losing Protective Skin

Draw me near for my search is deep.
My time will release itself upon my reality check
Hide my eyes, I do not know if I want to see what is there.
Shatter me into nothing more then the child I wish I could see.
Hear me cry, take my hand, and let me cry
I do not want to be afraid.
I have escaped for so long
Yet this shadow still tracks me
Often it flirts with me
And I enjoy its company when the time is right.

Who will love me when I have nothing left but a blank space
I must have no choice.
I must configure my way into new skin.
Shaking off dust like a window seal in an attic rarely visited
Beauty and Sadness are my cousins.
One is nothing without the other.
There is no where left for me to go.

Ashes of a Tragic Volcano of my Heart Set Free

My brother Dylan had to explain to his 9 and 6 year old sons as lightly as possible what was about to go down.

We looked for a sign, no sign was given except that we were loosing the sun.

A lady stopped and told us a better place to spread our ashes...... weird! Rude?

Kristen, my new sister joined us..... that meant a lot to me..... probably all of us.

We were going to light lanterns and send let them set sail, but the wind was blowing inland. Oh well.

Then it became very real as my sister pulled out what looked to be like 3 huge bags of some illegal substance..... she said she had some explaining to do to TSA, as the bags did not contain illegal drugs, they merely contained the remaining of our loved ones who we had lost. Mom, Emma (grandma), and Papa (Grandpa).

The sun was fading over a volcano.....

A summary of spreading burnt love:


I saw my first ever sunset over the ocean as my family and I spread the remaining ashes of my mother, my grandmother, and my grandfather. I held ash of what used to be the shell that held the souls of those who where most close in creating this man who writes these words, who holds this passion, and who wed those tears that fell into the North Pacific as my ashes flew into infinity filling the ocean, just as my tears did. The island in the distant sheltered the embrace of a sun that was setting on years and years of sorrow and sadness from the tragic deaths of the adults I loved most. The wind whispered as my family embraced. We were doing exactly what my mother always wanted us to do with her remains. I thought hard about my relationships with each, I felt most moved by my grandmother whose ashes we spread first. I have yet to let myself start to heal from her tragic death that I witnessed when I was 18. We had a very hard, love hate relationship. It is too complicated to get into at this moment, but as I let her burnt remains seep through my fingers I felt her, I saw her, I loved her again. It was sad. My grandfathers remains were blessed like the man he was, the jokester, the man addicted to sweets, the chef, the footballer, the goofball.... all of it, gone with the wind.
Then my mother, my sweet mom. This was her time. I walked 20 feet out into the water soaking my pants up to my thighs, my other brothers and sister took their own space...... I did now want to let her go, I cried as she caught the undertow. I held on to a peace of her bone thinking I should keep it as my secret. I stared at it as if it was a piece of gold that I could hold onto forever, but I told myself this was the time, or rather "now is the time, ryan" and with a single deep breath and one more glance at the sun saying goodbye, I said aloha mi mere. Goodbye my mother, swim well..... and that will be the last time I ever hold her body again. How sad, how beautiful.

My family and I joined together for one more embrace as we took the rest of the bag of ashes and let them go.... we let her go. Everyone was teary eyed, but my dear sister and I were shivering in our voices and hearts. We are the sensitive ones, we are the feminine ones, the softest of the 4. I dug my head into her shoulder because she knew I knew, I knew she knew...... how beautiful, how sad.

Eye See You

Don't threat from the eye of the otherwise shadow.
Say hello.
Ask how there day is.
Watch shadow form too colors
Watch as life expands
One kind gesture
Simple acknowledgement
I see you
I recognize you exist
I come from love.
let me reach out.
lets spark something
watch it dissipate into the universe
all of it, I will hold your hand
I will caress your heart.
with one look
So to say.
Shift your perspective.
Know eye is rooting for you
eye believes in you
Be the best, you.
eye will always be there
eye is always here.
eternal support.

A Poisoned Portrait

The most ugly, beautiful women ever.
Striking into souls with deep blue eyes.
Swearing nothing, confusing everything
She destroys bonds like a child takes to a bubble
She could be loved, she is loved, she does not know how to be loved
All of it she takes
To the misery of some sad story she creates.
Soft delicate skin
Protecting venom that somehow found its way into her heart.
A sad story indeed.
Mostly for her,
But let us not forget all those who tried and failed.
I am one of them.
My efforts are leaving me blinded and heated.
An uncomfortable postion that I wish to drop
To breath her out
To not wish her anymore sadness
Instead hold a strong heart,
even though....
She hates the story she created about me.
That is the hardest part.
I can not make her see me for me
She insist on painting pictures that suit her protection
I am a casualty of her separation within a dark imagination
Her poor heart.
Her poor child.
I will have to continue to love her from a distance.
Always wishing she would see me
Not her portrait of me.
Tortured soul.
Give your fire a chance to breath.

A brief testimony of a break.

** A quick testimony of my return **


What I am left with still remains unsure.
The wind blows in the mile high so soft on colored trees.
My old friends seem softer then before.
My eyes are not sure what has happened.
Time has lost all of it's meaning
Stories of my travels fall short
It is just so hard to convey my journey in words.
Magic.
All I can tell them is that it was Magic.
I am holding on to nothing
A memory of memories, of moments.
The revolving door.
A home cooked meal
A friend in need
Clueless as to what my next move is.
The game of chess
The idea of dreaming big
Of manifestation
Of new beginnings
The journey will continue on.
How it will all fall into place.
The hard questions that need to be asked
The rambling of an unsure soul who just landed
I need some time.
I will be back with more,
I already have so much more
I just need time
I do not know what time is anymore
I snapped my finger, and I no longer was bound by train.
Love is everything.
Even in sadness, even in pain.
A love story of lost love
A love story of dreamers
A break.
A breath.



** I am taking a decompression from the blog, from my travels, from my head that is not sure where it has landed. Please stay with me, I will be back shortly..

Broken Spider Webs

Tell me when it hurts. Tell me when you think you can take no more.
We should shatter mirrors
To create a spiderweb reflection
That will finally tell you
That I love you to pieces.

Maybe in another life when standards are not as important as feelings
I will be able to share something with you
Until that day comes,
I will share something different with you.
I will share whatever you will let me give.

We could give ourselves back to ourselves
And then get turned around at the shadows
That are chasing the shadows
That are lost in the night
When it becomes clear
That it was always a dance

I should think less about myself, wait what?

So many people come into your life. Hundreds of thousands. You have to keep the door open to let them in, but that also means you have to let them go. It is a revolving door. I wish so many people have stayed in my life, but I know there is no ownership of anybody but yourself. 

I just arrived in San Francisco after a marvelous coastal train ride. Bitter sweet this train ride was, as it is my last train to a destination that is not Denver. I will shrug that one off so I do not mourn that the trip is almost over and have that interfere with my experience here. This is the city I first fell in love with 8 years ago. I blew it last time, I really did. This time should be something else, but who cares. It will be what it will be. I look forward to catching up with my dear friend Johnny. One of the craziest, intelligent, pretty, clustered, friend I have ever had. I admire the guy. He has some sick determination yet somehow carries a soft heart. He is a writer at heart, but I do not think he writes enough. I plan on writing at the parks, an artwalk, and maybe the classic Haight district. I will meet up with the originator of the custom poems on a spot idea, his name is Zack Houston. I am excited about that. Apparently I have tickets to see my favorite House DJ Claude Von Stroke, and dates to stay in Oakland and San Francisco. Surely I will be too busy to put it all together, but I am trying to approach these situations these days with less judgement, and lighter, softer, and bigger eyes. I want to be gentle in my love and admiration for this travel. For this life, and for those that flock in and out of faded vision of a dream. I cry often these days. Well not often, but more often. Still I am hesitant to let myself be vulnerable enough to allow every other person I cross paths with to see this. When this happens I am afraid I might be failing at being as RAW as I can. I should just be less hard on myself and enjoy the moment. 

A sigh of relief comes over me.

I think it is scary to know how much work I have to do let myself heal. It turns out this trip is about that. Learning to let myself heal. I think of days when I can put a photo of my mother in the Temple at Burning Man and watch it go up in flames. This is to symbolize letting go, or saying goodbye to something. I love the concept and it is probably my main reason for wanting to go to the Burn. 

Is it relative to try and capture all of these epic moments that have come over me on this trip? Am I so caught up in thinking I need to understand what is surrpounding me when it is that I am actually forgetting to let the moment happen? 

Stop it Ryan. 

Something good about this moment.

I think I will just go and face myself for the day. 

Give myself a chance to shut the fuck up.

Maybe even laugh at the idea that everything is ok.

And breath out the anxiety that strikes me a little to hard at times of uncertainty. 

An Ageless Rant

I sit still now needing this break. Concerns are upon me in this time. I am sure to be alright, I am sure to overcome this drowning debt. All for creation and imagination, a childhood lost. A memory to recreate, or a memory of what it was that I am now missing. Somewhere along the line they suggest I should settle. But for what, and on what? I know nothing. I care to live for the freedom of travel, of adventure, for words, for romantics, for lust, and passion, and the other things that boil blood to lava. I can not make excuses, I have done so for too long. My life is passing by while I look for more.
I want to make it big. I want money, I want attention.
I want to share, to open my heart so my story can reveal itself.
So I can heal, and so then many others may heal with my reflection.
It saddens me, it intimidates me. My story should not set me apart from the rest.
Though it is so heavy, it is what it is. A shocking ripple, a large boulder in a seemingly still pond. It ripples and causes wakes that crash on dry lands.
I want to share this, I am not sure how else I will heal.
I do not want it to be the whole story, I need to get it all out so it becomes part of the story.

My dad is in prison.
I was once told he is still part of me despite not ever knowing him
I do not know about this.
What traits do I hold of his?
What was he like when my mother loved him?
Am I that guy, somehow, someway.... in blood, in character?
Or am I the killer,
The insane
The insecure
The asshole
The loser
The dying dreamer.
Am I this.

Am I the character of another being from a deeper land that has no way of being described? Something ancient, something more then we as humans know. I am my mothers love, and her love was great. Love is universal. I miss my mother. I do not know to not miss her. I do not know if I should stop missing her.
Am I lying, am I still trying to hold on to..... something involving her?
This is scary, this is intense and sad.
I want everyone to know about these struggles.
It is important
It feels right.
God help me.
I need to keep pushing strong.
When will it end.
How will it end.
Full of love and confusion
This story seems overwhelming.

what will I say when I write my father in prison. What do you say to a man who helped create you, but had nothing to do with creating you? What a dizzy situation.

Where do I go now?
One word to share at a time
Who loves me?
Do I love me?
Could I be better..... of course I could. I should. I am trying, I need to try harder.
Someone tell me it is okay.
It is okay young man.
You will shine like the star you are.
Believe, work hard.

I need more strength.
I need your love.
I need my love
I need to not need so much.

An ageless rant, for a man out of time. A man of will and destruction. Will it be too late. Can expression save my soul. Please allow me to express myself.

Please allow me to share.

Wave Format

Waves roll in and out
thirsty sand picks up saline
So to be dry,
So to be wet.
All for the appetite
A little distorted and flavored
Moonrise motions are lifted
The vail of the unknowing
Waves take breaks
Still rolling in
Still rolling out.
Crashing for thunder
Ripping away the departed land
A elegance of motion

Lost some written love.

Her memory exist.
And I had written the experience down. Now it is gone, I lost it. I lost her. Though her memory is still there. I will come back to this space. But I am sad. I lost my testimony on love, it took a lot of effort and now it is gone. Wow..... lost words. Lost expression. My heart spilled, and no one got the time to admire the puddle. I am sad. I will save this space for another time. When I attempt to conquer words for love. Still, she was on a train, she came to me. I knew she would. I worried she would not. But she did. My testimony of women, gone. sigh.

On guard.

Start shooting
No prisoners to take.
Aim wild
Live wild. Live free.
Point your lazers at your dreams
Ask them to surrender
Tell them you already have imagination hostage
There is no escape.
Only creations.
If you miss your target

You are not close enough
Now Bless your enemy
Bless them for the sake of rain
That we either get wet
Or feel the drops...
It is easy to know.
We share
No choice, no other way.
One life, I say.
Multiple dreams
Multiple realities
One universe.
One.   

Chasing the Sun Pt. 2

On this long train ride I have found myself in poetic conversation with some nice midwestern folk. They have been a ray of hope for my perception of what the midwest is. For me I see sad farms, large sad farms. Communities based around these farms. I think of Monsanto, I think of the past. I think of how once upon a time the hard work was validated, it was organic product they were making. I think about how the evil of all evils came down and stole there hard work away, making more struggle for them and also tying them into a web of corruption they never intended on being part of. However, you have to eat, you have to survive. Rusting cars, broken land, tires and other mechanical equipment lay to rest like a cementer of broken machines, and broken dreams.
These midwesterners know of Monsanto, they know of poetry, they know of the faded American dream and I stand tall and tell them I do not want to fall victim to a faded dream. I want my own reality to manifest itself as I continue my search for some truth, and all encompassing beauty. They are beautiful, strong, simple, but wise in their own right. Kind folk are beautiful folk. Simple, or deep, cities slickers or country boy. If you know how to listen and ask questions with an open heart you are beautiful in my eyes. For Willie, and KC my train seat neighbors are two American souls that are aware of our fading dreams, and I know they want more, they know they want more, but like so many before them and surely after they feel trapped and know not how to let it all go and create a new way of existing. Sadly their stories give me a validation for not wanting to settle at this point in my life. To keep adventuring until I find something that sticks, or till I fall in love so hard that I can never turn back. This trip has been a constant flow of falling in love and then having to leave it all behind. My friend T suggested that all of the love I have found that I have to let go may be closely tied to my yearning to let go of the existing hold my mothers death and overall abandonment has left on me. So it goes. I will never trade falling in love, being overwhelmed with passion and having to leave it all be hind for complacency.....never. Until my heart stops, I will seek for my soul. 

Chasing the sun pt 1.

Wed. October 3rd.

Trailing the Wisconsin rails, I finally see Autumn in full effect. Racing yellows, reds, orange, fading greens and blue sky highlight my eyes as music has never sounded so sweet. I watch softly as I dream, as I read, as I imagine I create. What a world. This is beautiful. The sun is fading and the lighting is so perfect. Black birds swim in the air to make the scenery that much more perfect. I am ok with this, I am perfectly fine. Something very right at the moment. Could it be my exist from the overwhelming east coast experience, the rough and buff cities. An exit, a chance to start a new? Only a two weeks left and I am off. I am off to see another land, distant from the east. Same language of course, but I predict a different energy, a new vibe.
God I can not get over these colors, like a matador coming straight for my heart. It has be falling flat on the floor and wishing I could share it with someone. Fuck that, I know this is my moment to be with god. To know beauty, to get high and to be still and excited with travel. Surely someone knows what I mean, and if not it is all the more reason to spill my overflowing guts with as many folks as I can. This passion is so special, I just know it. I wonder how I would exist without it? If everything else stayed the same but my passion died....... numb, I would be numb. Sometime I am numb with passion. I am working on disecting this issue so I can come unravelled and fall in love with myself over and over and over again without needing someone to share it with.
The silhouette of an abandoned amusement park. Like a time of dreams and silly life rides fading into darkness as memories of a place are now an illusion to those who have moved on. A ghost of a the past, a place you can no longer visit. And now another brief memory for me to stick into words that I may or may not ever read again. Still, it is for you, it has always been for you. Without you for me to share, I am as lost as a golden turtle in a rainless desert.....
Oh my, these dark strawberry colored trees are melting me. Simply outstanding. This is the closest to nature I have been in some time, and I can tell I need it. Hopefully I will get to spend some time outside of Portland frolicking with the fairies and dry leaves. Hopefully I will not get caught up in writing on my typewriter and falling in love with strangers, and instead go fall in love with nature. Again and again.

The train is chasing the sun. Speeding west, trying to hold onto daylight for as long as we can. This extended sunset gives lights to small communities and rather large farms. I wonder if they have grown accustomed to such beautiful evenings where falling suns give way to harvest rainbows. I hope not. I will choose to think that they continue to live this way for these impeccable evenings, rather then doing it because it is all they know. I do not ever want to find myself doing something because it is all that I know to do. However, I suppose my decade in the restaurant industry would suggest that is what I know.... career wise anyways. Something more is heading to my door. Bigger, I dream bigger. I know it to be true, it has to be. It feel right. I worry sometimes that if I think about it so much that I will dissolve the possibility of it happening. As if my manifestation curses me. Weird, I know. Still I just believe that rarely do dreams come true exactly how you see them coming true in your head. No reason to be discouraged, but more reason to just work hard and fantasize less.
It is starting to get dark now, I think I will drink some water and make an almond butter jelly sandwich. I attribute my favorite traveling meal to a certain untouchable women whom came into my life, and stayed in my life, and my heart. Ms. Joy, if you are reading this, I hope you know my dreams have gotten bigger ever sense you took the time to love me and believe in me. Thank you, now time for ABJ ;)

When all else fails, keep going, and wait.

When all else fails.
Just wait.
Be patient.
Wait...... you will see.
You will overcome.
I overcame it today.
I was bruised.
I was torn.
I wanted to give up.
I hated myself.
I hated my situation.
I hated the thought that I will be coming back to Colorado with nothing.
I was uncomfortable.
I was annoyed at other people.
I did not like life.

I kept going.
I got off the train.
I strolled my office a mile down a busy Chicago street
I stopped and ate a sandwich
I drank water.
I felt a little better.
I found a spot
I set up shop
I wrote a poem for a lesbian
I felt better
I breathed.
I got smiles.
I felt a little better
Time went by
I wrote love poems
I felt a little better
I wrote more poems
I met more people
I watched pretty girls
I smiled pretty girls go by.
I felt better
I met visionaries
I was given art work
I felt better
I smoked
I felt better.... but guilty.
I saw the sun shine
I felt better
I felt better
I felt good
I was okay
I was happy
I made some money
I felt better
I talked about death
I felt better
I surprised myself
I felt better

I do not like doubting myself.
I do not know if it is the act of doubting myself that I dislike, or the fact that I know I am doubting myself.

Sigh.
I always end up feeling better.
I am only down for a small period of time
Knowing this
I feel better.

Eyes West. Eyes closing.

It never gets old when you constantly are on the move.
Sure stability has its place, but I am embarking on a serious quest.
I can not take any prisoners when I am on the move.
Still have never given my heart so much in such a small period of time.
This is exhausting. This is spreading me thin. And this is making me strong.
How dare I compare myself to anyone ever again.
Was it once a ego based survival technique?
Looking down on someone
Looking up to someone
For the things they do not get
For the things I do not have
It serves no good purpose. I have to remember, I need to never forget..... Everyone has a story. Even if it lays softly compared to earth shattering lives, it is still a story.
Too think anyone walks through this life without at one point or another having a heavy heart is beyond me. How sad of a life that must be, to never carry weight, to never know what it means to survive, to hold on, and then to finally let go. Those poor souls.....

You have to be strong to be sensitive.
I am strong.
I am soft
I love, I do... I am in love, I am scared
I still disapprove with some of my choices, they are however my choices and my mistakes to make.

I am tired, this trip takes a lot out of me. I miss nature, I can feel meditation coming into my life again. I know how to ground myself a little better.... and I am tired.


Leaving New York today. Heading to Chicago to see my badass friend T, take a night to rest in a bed, to write, and to gather myself for a 46 hour train ride to Portland. This second stent here in New York has rocked my world. I have so much to reflect on, but I must first rest and gather myself before I can put it out there. Simple notes were that I walked a ton, I wrote over 400 original poems in 6 days giving most of them away. I made connections with Huffington Post. I partied a few nights with old friends. I ate mushrooms and watched the moon rise and change colors from a rooftop in Brooklyn. I talked about my mother. I made a believer out of a lost dreamer, I cried to myself about how intense abandonment is. I must rest now. I will be back for more later.