Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category
The Beginning of the Crowd by Ryan Anthony Gibson
A concept in the making, the choice to be in business with love,
I landed on my bum very hard and I can’t sit well, I bruised my tail bone,
Wine, soup, vegetable soup, warmed up, my little white dove,
With my friend, I feel I move forward and definitely not alone,
So sail our thoughts in tandem, with more weight than strings can bare,
However dangerous, I feel safe in our mutual comfort and care,
Shapes of pyramids, healing thoughts, ethereal dimensions reached,
Aided by combustible and liquid satisfaction that mystics teached,
Our success and happiness seems to be deep within this secret leached,
From this boat we call life that wishes to float around, not beached,
We are up for a long journey, we are going crazy, we are not normal,
We have no source of revenue accept our faith in paranormal,
But our answer will be found in quantum physics and smiles,
Come visualize with us so we can all reach this spot in a while,
Or are we already there, is it here, is it the seat of this chair,
On the stoop of great contemplation, another step, another stair.
Can you see it, like the steps of the great Greek philosophy,
Who visualized the earth and how it could be, itself a prophecy,
Together we are the creators of our future, together a culmination,
So starts the very fun and loving crowd of our beautiful new Nation.
From time to time we need some kind of change, what we are doing right now.
Posted in 
si podría escribir la belleza de sus ojos
y en nuevos números numera todas sus gracias que
las personas futuras dirían estas mentiras de poeta
tales toques celestiales las caras terrenales nunca tocadas
Looking back I feel I know her still,
Her, the little girl who plays on my strwaberry hill,
Love is so deep from love of ages past,
Stones of castles ruined make homes that last,
I think of my little heart at eight, nine, and ten,
And how much I wished to love her then,
Cast through the warped chasm of time,
I say I love you in this rhyme.
By Ryan Anthony Gibson
These poems are part of Sections, each poem is named the section, SEC 0-9, 0 is before my daughter was born, 1 is year one, etc. My daughter turned 9 on September 9 2009 and therefore, I compiled this sectional grouping of poems for her on that day and during my travels going to Canada by plane after her birthday.
SEC 0
Before your entry onto earth I heard your voice,
My Cala, my little girl, by my own choice,
I often spoke to you telling how much I can love,
To try to convince your soul to come down from above,
And when I discovered within your mom you did go,
Through my entire body such happiness did flow,
I massaged and sang to your mommy every night,
And read poems so that someday you may write.
Ryan Anthony Gibson- thought from Feb. 2009 age 21
SEC. 1
So with four seasons does a year pass,
Where memories pile up in the looking glass,
The sparkling of life in your big brown eyes,
Your humor and love of your parental ties,
In one year I feel all the more loved and wise,
As I hold you, and feed you, and stop your cries,
With such attention and affaction you hold my hand,
Where time stands still, suspending sand.
By Ryan Anthony Gibson- September 2001, age 23
SEC 2
You asked for me this morning at 5 am again,
“Daddy, Daddy” echoed on the walls, heart sent,
No matter how tired, there is never a strain,
To leave my bed and lay with you I went,
“Bottle, bottle” you most likely will ask,
Happily I pour, warm, complete the task,
Watching as you rub one ear and stare,
Or close your eyes as I twirl your hair,
We become tired and back to sleep with drift,
Remember these moments, the heart does lift.
By Ryan Anthony Gibson – September 2002 age 24
SEC 3
The dawn arrives for your first days in school,
We all feel a part of where we are from these days,
A part of my childhood, neighbourhood, process of renewal,
Excitement of belonging to Canada is in your gaze,
An emersion of not only two languages,
but, 0f nationality, culture, timeless ages,
From downtown, Shaunessy, and and lastly East Van,
Grows my little girl that makes your Daddy a man.
Ryan Anthony Gibson- Thought June 2003 age 25
SEC 4
It’s hard to rize up when I do not see your eyes,
I try to work my hardest remembering our good byes,
Someday I wish yyou to know that I never let you go,
But let you support your mommy on behalf of you and me, and so,
I hoped we could somehow pull it all back together,
Give her a break so she could love me forever,
Where once our life and love required no translation,
Feeling iliterate now, lack luster of love’s disintegration,
I call you on the phone and in my dreams,
I yell your name, to hear you answer in screams,
I pray to God to surround you with white light,
Hold you in my love, you shine in his sight,
His hands to cat for me almighty father,
Ensure I always have a connection with my daughter.
Ryan Anthony Gibson, A though on Mid 2005 age 26
SEC 5
Just sitting with you, talking, playing,
Your eyes eager, ears list to what I am saying,
Being a part of each other, soaked in our attendance,
Feeling each others love, choked by lack of presence,
That now I just enjoy your ever essence,
I call your name and you answer with pleasants,
The answer for all of my time of praying,
A summer with you for life my heart it’s staying.
By Ryan Anthony Gibson, Thought September 2005 age 27
SEC 6
Layers peel away from pain to love inside,
Where deep beneath the rage, confusion, I hide,
One hug, one kiss, or night of listening to you breath,
Out pouring and gone of unreal thoughts to seethe,
Nothing unreal can hurt you, as I now can see,
Only thing real is the love beween you and me.
By Ryan Anthony Gibson, July 2006, age 28
SEC 7
I find comfort in being 30,000 feet in the air,
So far from all of the confusion and despair,
So many jetset memories, you and I alone,
Traveling back and forth, foreign lands to home,
Our place far away from a throwing stone,
Far from a prisoner trapped in old Rome,
So we sleep, we hug, prepare thoughts to do,
Whenever I fly, I can only think of you.
By Ryan Anthony Gibson, thought sept. 2007 age 29
SEC 8
We pan the waters for Rocky Mountain Gold,
In the shallow corner of a river, where the water slows,
Sifting through the minerals, pebbles, rocks, we hold,
Time passing between us as an endless current flows,
Trying to register this moment for fear it washes away,
As we smile and play, I know its sure to stay,
We are not a sponge, but one part river, and one part stone,
Rounded by experiences and thoughts, particles together not alone,
Oh we are all one when we become like this beautiful sand,
With the speckles of gold dust that shimmers in our hand.
Ryan Anthony Gibson, thought September 2008 age 30
SEC 9
We have the same little devilish laugh I laughed,
The art to say what’s on your mind, in a craft,
Hear all, see all and understand so much the same regardless of distance and land,
Your must sometimes laugh with your mother,
For you have all the characteristics of humor and love your father,
So soaking you in time steeped with my love, its enough,
Where we sometimes wrestle and our irish playtime is rough,
Our kinestitic souls feel completely in tune,
I love you, I miss you, I will see you soon.
Ryan Anthony Gibson, Sept 2009, age 31
Love Poem to Laia Vilella Juncosa March 30th 1998 By Ryan Anthony Gibson
Show, show, me where you are,
Show me to the stars,
To your hearts contentment,
I can’t hide here anymore,
I’ve been here long before,
I need to find my innocence,
Place, Place me in your hands,
And here I’ll understand,
The aura of loves essence.
By Ryan Anthony Gibson, March 30th 1998
The poem was written on the back of a movie ticket in South Africa, the film was Titanic with Leonardo Dicaprio at the Skerkinecor Cinema in Sandton, 2:30pm show. Amazingly, Laia kept the ticket all of these years and only showed me two days ago that she had it. We were both very moved by it, a time capsule of our love always exists in the poems I have written to her. I am pretty sure we were both fighting off some tears.
Your Breath I Took by Ryan Anthony Gibson
Your breath comes from the inside,
Warmed, moist, blown into my face,
Unaware of my observing you beside,
You sleep, your stillness, and grace,
I wish to kiss you, you know,
But it is too likely you will awake,
Every moment now moves so slow,
Lifetime of loves looks I take
Built up inside, a hunger does develop,
From softness to beast I wish to envelope,
Your essense, your smell, your look,
So I inhale, your breath I took.
By Ryan Anthony Gibson
Written September 8th 2009 at 10:45 pm in Barcelona Spain at La Glacier restaurant and bar in the company of Adam Boryniec.
The poem was originally written on a magazine which I will post a picture of at sometime.
To Blake and Laura Webb From Ryan Anthony Gibson
Written on the surface are such words of grace,
That sketch happiness in lines or color on his face.
Once the ink soaks into the paper it becomes permanent,
And so seethes your love between everyone of his fibers and filament,
So gather we among your greatest fans and supporters of this exposition,
The culmination of all the work and mastery that makes this proposition,
For without the consciousness of thoughts and beauty you extend,
His world would forever be a forgone blankness of which he could not contend,
Of great gratitude to your love, the artist with her brush,
I scratch on this surface, my thanks to you in a rush,
Thank you for showing color, control, compassion, and contentment,
And to your marriage I surround you with all my sentiment.
By Ryan Anthony Gibson
The Artist Poem #1 By Ryan Anthony Gibson
What time it has taken to teach the perfect line to paint,
Or orb, or shape, to roll into a sculpture one may make,
Such lines with class does one create and make a lover faint,
For skill of passion, focus, love, and emotion make hearts quake,
The embodiment of what artists hands and eyes and thought,
Can embrace from whatever medium taught or not,
Visible and invisible, her craft does show her ever growing skill,
That on him makes an impression, and forever love they will.
By Ryan Anthony Gibson to Laura Webb on her love with Blake
Chef Poem 2 By Ryan Anthony Gibson
He does not soak her in his love, but marinades,
He does not broil her by flame, but warms her for tenderness,
A long process of braising through the many shades,
Of attention, to doctor the perfect moments completeness,
Such moments you cannot waste or overspend, but coddle and imbue,
With time does the mixture of all ingredients percolate,
Into one combination of all that makes many into one, into you,
So simmer he does his hot oven of thoughts, to umbellate,
In even chutes of a flowering affection from a single source,
From his heart does he make and bake perfections course.
By Ryan Anthony Gibson to Blake Webb on his love with Laura
Chef Poem One – By Ryan Anthony Gibson
There is an understanding that he is a good chef, and so I say,
The best ingredients are those you travel to find and taste,
I suppose some recipes require time, even longer than a day,
So prepares he his passion on his plate no moment to waste,
An infusion of sorts from Far East to North West,
The savoury thought in physical form, he does test,
Such colors, scents, tastes, beauty, warmth, and spice,
No normal artists brush could paint so nice,
For this is of his hands but with her own mind,
The food of which he wishes to love and find,
So discovers he the elements of the whole that make his dish,
A lifelong signature, all her parts that have answered his wish.
By Ryan Anthony Gibson to Blake Webb on your love with Laura.
