I would like to be a writer. I began this site with amorous intentions, and over the course of time, I hope to have evolved as a male in an ever changing society that is today, recognizing the true beauty and elegance of woman. My words and notions will I hope respond in poetic verse of many genre and style. Come along and please share your ideas and insights. Thank you for your visit.

Posts tagged “anger

A Whipping Post

Not for pleasure mind a manner

though the truth tally fortune

he does stand alone

her mockery is surely known

do quiet in her stealth

come to terms with time at home

he is her solace

to him we toast


whipping post

How I Destroyed Love

The fragile nature of knowing,

having insight,

the kind we like to deny,

that’s my world,

the crisp reality of burning flesh.


When scarred,

there is no matter of hope

the once brilliant scope

of passion, unbridled

desire in sweeping form


Is gone, felt in some waves,

occasional reminders,

a soft smile,

a similar glance,

quiet afternoon reflection.


All I can do is stave off

the tears that cry

my name,

the only name I can say aloud,

for the privacy of love remain.


I wonder how it became so crazy

that I can only answer riddles

in my own mind,

and they’re not nearly as satisfying

as a look in her eyes.


Only today, I realized


how easily I did

destroy love,

a quiet solace is my nightmare.

Storm Sequence

© Christopher Ryan McKenney

© Christopher Ryan McKenney


Visit inside the mind of despair,

when words matter little except a bare

reprisal of need, untapped in its deed

toward killing me softly, indeed.


Physical beings finding love

whence the world up above

makes little change except engage

in fueling the idiocy of rage.


Last night we crossed path,

with swords drawn in wrath,

to slice apart our solemn heart,

as if to suggest insanity an art.


Now today, even still with the settling,

love’s path toward enlightenment begging

a reprieve, a new found aching solace

we little realize the moment is helpless.


When love forgets to say hello

and rather seeks our lives below

that horizon of worth, desire, dreams

wreaking havoc upon love’s stream


Seek some avenue of hope to please

ourselves, rather than these awful degress

of vanity, of self-serving, ill met release

forever challenging our ability to find peace.


Lover’s torment stepped into the eye’s mercury

bearing a scraping of passion, blessed our fury.