Food for Thought-The Cosmos Isn’t Broken


My nighttime dreams,
Are not dark,
though mainly cold,
usually unseen,
I feel them,
Even asleep,
As questions first,
Gnawing at me,
To don my socks,
Quench my thirst,
Turn on the light,
Repeat the mantra,
Without waking my wife,
“The cosmos isn’t broken,
You’ll be alright”,
before dawn arrives,
and Coleman Hawkins
saxophone slides,
below the raucous
seams of seamless sound,
and night dies,
on morning ground.

–Richard Bryant


Food for Thought-The Mourning Indicative in the East


I awake to the absolute humiliation,
Of darkness’ irrevocable defeat,
Seeking certain validation,
The foregone superstitions clash,
Redemption overcomes sleep,
Dissolving from the subjunctive black,
To a mourning indicative in the east.

–Richard Bryant

Food for Thought-The Blind Forerunners of Dawn


Translucent sparrows,
Dart among the invisible leaves,
As the sunset races,
Tangerine skies cursed between,
The dying grasps of sapphire and wine,
We think we see,
Harbingers of night,
Beckoning the blind forerunners of dawn,
Flickering hope among rustling leaves,
Who sing simple harmonies,
Now only at first light,
We may see again,
And bid farewell,
to death’s fading cloak,
the diminishing gray of night.

–Richard Bryant

Food for Thought-Gratitude on a Broken Blue Sky Monday in May


Broken Blue Sky Monday

I’m grateful the rain has stopped

the sky is broken, ripped, and torn

it needs no mending, it isn’t worn

the blue is breaking through the grey

at nine pm we start the day

Mary walks the dog with Mackenzie

her day has been the usual frenzy

the doorbell never ceases ringing

now I hear someone singing

Christmas carols in mid May

is this weird or a Monday?

Some of both, who can say

I wouldn’t miss this either way.

This is my posse, these are my peeps,

I live with my gang, this is for keeps.

Darkness rises on an Irish night

will all things be all right?

Behind the hedges, we will sleep

and our strangeness help us keep

safe until morning, rested till dawn

when our fears are safely gone.

–Richard Bryant