Poetic Philosophy Ryder

A Place Loved

My home is a candle, an ocean,
A lapping, a purr,
A flicker and a church.
I live the space,
Beyond geometry,
Pure phenomenology,
A crescent, a sun,
An essence, a skin.
I behold and am beheld,
My shelves of my shell,
My stress, my virtue.
My house is a daydream,
A poet’s plaything,
A place of sweet pain,
My comfort, my fury,
Winter ache so blurry.
Do you feel my home,
My memories tied down,
My loud, my soft.
A place loved
Contradicts in the seams,
Addicts all dreams.

By Ryder

I am a writer, furniture designer and a musician. I enjoy synthesizing information because it helps me (and hopefully others) understand subjects in a systematic way.

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