The Poet: -ing

Summer’s fell by winter’s sting,
Hope held out only for the spring,
A day upon which I will sing,
Glorious praise to the spaghetti king.

Here’s the one who holds the ring,
It is with her I’ll have a fling,
Metal makes the bell go ding,
Some other word that ends with -ing.

In meditation I search for something,
Not a higher power, glorious and thumping,
But inner peace with little stressing,
I’ll always come up guessing.

In a fight, I’ll go down swinging,
Tis the only path, aside from singing.

Ryan S. Kinsgrove


Follow along with my peculiar brand of insanity:

The Poet: Dobhar-chu, Who Are You?

Who are you,
The water hound,
Whose upward bound.

Irish mythos for the win,
Dragons have nothing on his kin,
Seriously, don’t say anything about a selkie,
Or I’ll have to tell Aunt Melkie.

To my new short story,
There’s nothing to cause you worry,
My genius will see me through,
Even if my dialogue’s a little mew.

I can’t believe he took the cat,
Now how will I kill the rat?

Ryan S. Kinsgrove


Follow along with my peculiar brand of insanity:


Same shit, different day,
Supersonic, Duck Dodgers,
Hells bells, that’s the way,
Go get ‘em, Steve Rodgers.

Mazes and monsters,
And monsters and mazes,
Here’s some liquor just for starters,
Don’t complain about too many phases.

Hippie mumbo jumbo bullshit,
The universe and I are one,
Hurry up, come on, tell me about it,
My mind as big as the sun.

Sorry folks, for the filler,
My brain is out, looking for a tiller.

Ryan S. Kinsgrove


Follow along with my peculiar brand of insanity:

Skyrim’s Dragons Aren’t Dragons, a Sonnet

Look, out there, along the horizon,
Tis mighty Alduin come to pillage,
Fear not for this seeming threat rising,
Alduin isn’t even a dragon, no threat to our village.

His wings and teeth doth make you a liar,
Scales and fire all these things a dragon make,
Wings and teeth yes, merely makes him a flier,
Four limbs and two wings doth a true dragon take.

A true dragon for Shor’s sake man,
It breaths fire and flies, with scales like steel, that’s all I need to call it a dragon,
But it is a wyvern, more like a caveman,
A dragon he is not, get yer head outta the flagon.

But my friend, Webster doth agree,
A wyvern is a dragon with two legs I doth swear it be.

Read the partner post at: Skyrim’s Dragons Aren’t Dragons

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Poem a Day: Flying Comet

Have you seen the sun before?
Shining bright forevermore,
There it rises beyond the moor,
I don’t think I can open the door.


I wonder if you would bow down,
To see me as I wear the crown,
Or would you laugh just like a clown,
Dressed in your evening gown.


Serious poems are for the birds,
Can you not see the words?
Filling the page with cattle and herds,
Or is that room all full of nerds?


I just like to write a sonnet,
Imagining it were a flying comet.

Poem a Day: Horror Thrives

Zombies moan throughout the night,
Vampires arise at break of twilight,
Werewolves howl the moon’s delight,
The fey, the strange, myths alight.


Dead Cthulhu in R’lyeh sleep,
All the children he makes weep,
Nightmares run all filled with sheep,
Bah ram you, my soul to keep.


The horror genre strongly thrives,
Living out a thousand lives,
Filling deep and darkened dives,
Making me break out in hives.


The nonsense is strong with this one,
That’s how we know our poem’s done.

Super Sonnet Sunday/Poem a Day: Tech Support Woes

It’ll be just a few more minutes,
I’m sorry for the wait,
I say that to so many tenants,
It fills me with rage and hate.


I want the other department,
To just pick up,
Make it work at their apartment,
So they can shut up the pup.


Tech support woes,
I do declare,
Digital foes,
Try not to stare.


I’m not sure what else to say,
So, I’ll just turn around and say yay.




***Author’s Note***

If the poem seems broken and disjointed with no clear direction as to the imagery and language, that’s because it is. It’s taken over a week to write, each time I’ve sat and stared at it for an hour or more without really being able to move forward with it. So, as a final act of desperation, here it is. I’m not sure if it’s going to be worth having thrown the poem together just to have a post, or if I’ll come to find some worth in the poem in time. I dunno. For now I’ll let you decide.

Poem a Day: A Shakespearean Sonnet

Oh blank page,
How I loathe thee,
Filling me with violent rage,
Knowing I will never be free.


Haunt me you will,
Till my dying breath,
I’ll fill you with swill,
No better than Macbeth.


Alas poor Yorik,
I knew him, Horacio,
Find someone named Hendrik,
I’ll hide him in the palacio.


Shakespeare you cannot beat,
Alas, I’m afraid, I can’t compete.


***Author’s Note***

So, this week has been rather productive, even though I’ve missed quite a few days of poetry. With that you have my apologies. I’ll try to work in a couple extra poems in the week to come, but I make no guarantees.


I have finished the short story, Dobhar-chu is its name. It’s a historical/fantasy short story set halfway in the land of Eire, and halfway in a world I call AllHaven. I need to hear back from my editor (read: wife) before I call the work on it fully complete. Once it’s got her seal of approval, then I’ll wrap it up in a nice little package and send it off on submission.


Anywho, it’s past time this cat crawled into bed. Yawn.

Poem a Day: Insurance is a Scam

Insurance is a scam,
You don’t believe me,
Just ask Sam,
The truth he will tell thee.


Doctors and proctors, just big business goons,
All for the money,
Let the poor have the loons,
With a little dab of honey.


No cures will be found,
If Big Pharma has its way,
It’s not business sound,
They want you to pay.


If I disappear I’m having a lark,
With my good friend old Tony Stark.

***Author’s Note***
Woo Hoo… Today’s my birthday… And yeah… Happy 31st.