Sunday Scribbles - Untitled

my love is nimble

quick on its feet

for hide and go seek;

a child of science

shrinks down smiling

hides in cabinets

springs forth with soft laughter

to take up all the space in the room

solid

or melts to liquid, seeping into cracks

rises up gaseous

settles in a dew all around

takes on life again but

curls up in your lap to sleep and 

asks for nothing save the sound of us talking

requires no consistent shape

known only for the phosphorescent tail that trails behind it

unless otherwise noted, all poetry copyright Ryann Ferguson

Sunday Scribbles - Aurora Borealis

What good is winsome weighed against
a willowy waif
at home in wellies?
How faux the glow of neon against the Northern Lights

All my acerbic humor,
my American-ness was small against
the tall of trees;
the long legs of Britain
No story could stake at the heart
like an environmentalist poem

Because no one had ever taught me the stars--
Because they can't be seen
from my corner of the world
I'd never see them in his eyes
or his eyes
but only in the glow of an iphone
as I tried to learn.

An Untitled Scribble

As I mentioned, I've been feeling a little guilty about how little writing has been on this blog lately. And I definitely haven't been posting any fiction. Perhaps because I've been so focused on scripts, etc and haven't been writing any. Will you accept this humble prose-poem instead? I'm reluctant to even call it that. I'd really prefer to stick with 'scribbling,' since that's really more accurate. I ran across it in one of my notebooks, wedged in between edit notes, lyrics, and the outline of a pilot. I wrote it back in January-- at least I had the good sense to date it, because I don't even remember writing it. 


When you couldn't have her
You'd turn to me
When things turned South
You turned to me
And whenever you'd sigh
at the place
where the pavement ended
You'd turn your thoughts to me.

To making a home
at the end of the world for a moment
with me

But like all things in the modern world
There is no impeding progress
and no sooner had the road run out
then someone paved it farther
out into the distance
of newest possibilities and wildest dreams

You kiss my cheek
and thank me for the company
in your despair and wandering
You curl your grin,
settle your hat
and set out again on the road to the prize.