poetry

World Safety 101 (poem)

Gotta ban guns. Gotta ban

knives. Gotta ban sticks. They all

take lives. Gotta ban bats. Gotta

ban rocks. Gotta ban lasers and tasers that shock.

Gotta ban pepper spray. Gotta ban stones. They go

with the sticks and break all your bones. Gotta ban

weights you can smash on a head gotta ban

pillows that suffocate dead gotta ban

chainsaws and hacksaws – the mess! –

gotta ban teeth they can bite through

your flesh gotta ban radios you

throw in a tub gotta ban

razors and golf tees and

clubs. Gotta ban

spoons they can scoop out

your eyes. Gotta ban sharp things

like spears and steeples. Gotta ban

sex as sex makes people who –

kill people with guns

and knives.

-ryn.11.09.18

egg haiku (emblem poem)

NOTE: This poem is both a haiku and an emblem poem. It carries the overall message of get off your duff and take action.

The universe isn’t going to do it all for you (no matter how much positive thinking you send streaming up to the stars).

dig fun illustrations? get more from a rynski book.

carving knife (poem)

Sometimes when

chopping apples I am

stopped

by thoughts

of mary

who was drunk when her

wayward electric knife

carved her forearm

instead of

the ham

the doctors said permanent damage

from ligaments sliced straight to bone

the next day

she changed

her habits – learned

to drink with her

other hand.

-ryn.02.12.18

SEASHELLS BY THE TURBULENT SHORE (rynski poetry)

Stacy Blair was

groovy and keen and

the coolest kid

on the block.

If she was your friend,

your life had meaning. If not,

you may as well die.

One day she gave me

a drawing she had

carefully colored

herself.

I cherished the

thing, hung it on

my wall – the next day

she asked for it back.

She came to the door with

Shauna O’Conner to give

the prized drawing to

her.

I handed it back –

straight-faced with grace – then

cried on the couch

for a week.

And that’s why I

threw a tantrum – some 40 years

later – when mom told 6-year-old

Aiden he could take what he wished

from a big box of shells Mom had

previously

promised

to me.

-ryn.09.18.17

ONE DUNKED DOG (rynski poetry)

there’s a dangling

apology out there one

i would not accept from a

man at the beach after

his dog attacked

my dog and dunked him

under water the man

grabbed off his dog and then

called him two swear words, the man said

he was sorry but I merely

frowned. now the man’s

apology

dangles –

twists

in the wind flaps

in the breeze hangs low

and unplucked like

rotten fruit – what happens

to dangling apologies? do they

finally waft down to be

absorbed by

the earth – or do they

continue to float and float for

all eternity – like those times

you say “I love you” and

no one answers?

-ryn.09.05.17

SIX HAIKU ON OUR ROAD TRIP

—

There’s only so much

disco you can take, even

dear Donna Summer.

—

All other cars on

the road are there to test your

patience, block your way.

—

Distance looks shorter

on a map, time goes faster

when you hide the clock.

—

You’ll remember you

forgot paper towel when your

dog pukes in the back.

—

That journey stuff is

bullshit when you’re still four hours

from destination.

—

Whining and scratching

at doors is the dog version

of “Are we there yet?”

—

-ryn gargulinski.05.20.16