Ryan B. aka
Blustone

Blustone is a poet and photographer. He loves exploring nature and spirituality. 

Blustone Lane

(Don't describe to people,)

How I stand.

That's not who I am.

I wake up, and choose to continue.

That's the first step.

The first step.

It used to take a lot for me

to get up.

After using all the energies of

"New Game"

Forgetting pre injuries-

Worth pain.

Dodging knee sympathy

I went down lyrically

Touch down in zones

Four Corners,

Death to M.E.

Not 'Lace-Dosage Taster'

Which is me.

Swerve the coin paste(r)

I paste "hooray, I think

I found space for

Lines with patience".

 

Servings.

Yes I'm deserving.

The Merging is chasing

Deserting,

I now get up.

 

(To prove things.

Locked against

Mood swings.

New bling.

Shining like New Bling.

Except The B.S.

Was not made to

Hold down the necks-)

 

Man.

Here I am.

70-something-

Thousand grams.

 

Listening to preferences

Of the next man.

Dense dam.

Sealed up by

"Next is the dressing.

Look how it flows,

Pleasant."

Stress-in.

What a possession.

Limited times I'll accept

Such position.

Swiftly.

Then My "I signed..."

Will slide to find mention.

 

I'll sign- out depression,

While Smiling.

Even if it means

Back To The Filing.

A single team

Call us all RY &

Pass the ball high.

That's my 'N.

A real solid fact

Of a mining-

In tact.

Tolerance has been

Jiving.

I'm that

Black Waldrobe Lining.

Volumes

In my days.

Sounds like,

Different faces.

Reverse back to basics.

Filter the steam

As it rises,

Not waste it.

Breathe, cause the

Moments can turn into

Basic,

Young Black Man

Steps

Inside The Faceless.

Seen By All Faces,

Even The Greatest "We,

Will Show Hands

To Beat "What They Gave

Us"".

I trust the plan, then

Sleep. Repeat daily.

M.R. I think comma,

Peach gravy.

Chill,

"The Doctor said...."

"da streets played me".

Never seen a rave

Yet life's crazy.

Try to not feel a way

But that just ain't

Me.

 

Four corners.

Palms, dim faces.

For a time without

Raceless "I made it"s.

"Face it"

After that I

Embraced it.

Check the lines

For out of place

Laces, go,

Then stay.

Woah, I say I

Do, Okay.

© Blustone

With- or With-‘Out'​

Staring at a spare remote.

Meant to do one thing, control.

Motionless,

Meant to be controlled

In order control.

 

Pictures dance repeatedly

.  (period)

 

Staring at a spare.

Who's to be aware

Of the now absent

Original, spins.

Who's to care?

 

Staring at a

Reason to be from

A part of

This one I'm part of

This one,

I'm part love to

Run to park fun.

 

Staring at

Screens.

Amazing vaccines

Parading through streets

No sidestepping feigns,

Who know your

Free 5 and still

They want 3

To point out

The rooks that

Hold up hard dreams.

 

Staring.

Directly.

Not liking what I see.

Yet still I carry on

Cause none of it's for me.

I see a pair of eyes

That I might not live to see.

Eyes that don't deserve

"Yo daddy's like his daddy"

 

I don't know how to love me..

Noone has ever explained that..

They said "I Love You"

I learned "Okay".

An eventful flip book

Of going against

'Trapped'.

Growing, keep track.

© Blustone

Maybe & Finally
x Bluestone​

In this circle of love

There is laughter.

In this circle of love

There is hate.

 

A mission statement

I don't have one.

I have a problem.

That tears at my inside.

Feeding on my leisure,

And fucking courtesy.

Because I have leisure,

Laced with curtain scenes.

 

(Read that again)

 

Curtain scenes

Laced with leisure

Because I have

Courtesy feeding on

My fucking leisure.

 

Aye Aye Captain.

Eye Do Not Recognize Seizure

As Chains.

I Practiced Restraints.

 

In this circle of love

There are Chapters.

In this circle of love

There are breaks.

 

"Do it, because...

Don't.. Don't because You

Know The Right Way. ...

You.....better."

 

Why do I not deserve,

Walking unnoticed?

Capable to make a direct line,

Without being secretly feared.

Hated secretly with public frames.

Shamed for my existence,

Praised for the details

Exposed on My Receipt.

Read that again.

 

Hold another seat.

Motion levels weak.

Not stuck in the creek

It's not defeat

I'm still a sheep.

Strong enough to know

To clean my teeth.

What defeat?

 

So much so far

No Problem yet.

The problem is

I'm lacking sweat.

How can I just dance

When escaping is

My proper step?

Escape from the place

With the tools

For elated new

I create

Pools of amazement

Mood changing phases

Moon frame to base

It's cool to say

"Off with the lights

In tune to DAY"

Let's groom a play.

Dress it pretty neat.

Cesspool covers up

"Dying to retreat"

Cesspool over cess

Ooo, never neat.

 

Often times I wonder

How to time my exhale.

Posted plans plunder;

When I call audible,

Checks fail.

 

Set sail.

Thinking my

Feelings set sail.

But this fire

Burning steady

Isn't heavy,

Or "yet stale".

On account of my

Defensive no(s)

I check mail.

To see if one day

The host of my play

Can block stress mail

So checks can feel safe.

 

Often times

I exhale while the ball is

Loose.

Head down so the air-

ways are comfortable.

Thinking of obtuse

Rubber goose.

Chin up to include

Nostrils.

Learned that from an

Ex(perience)

Not apostles.

 

From paper planes

To paper plates.

Unscheduled days.

Not so much is great

That's it for today.

Tomorrow might be

The day of the cake.

A friend to the Derma

And "look at my.." wait..

It's 2am.

So it's today.

Who knows,

Might find a

Check in a cake.

© Blustone

F.I.R.M. Isles​

For If Running Motionless

Means Ryan Is Free,

Where does that leave

Bluestone's pen to bleed?

 

(Briefly; all around 'blunts, no sneaky)

No masquerade for sweat

I breathe briefly.

To convince myself,

(I'm still breathing)

Yes to Cope: healing.

 

Practice makes

PERFECT!

Why is that worth it?

I don't think lines end

Based on the surface.

Blank as freedom with

A fine pen, (

                   )

I was taught to

End the journey

On purpose.

 

Lions in their dens,

Feared because of distance.

Writing in a pen. Feared.

Persons in prison.

The "... don't know how

I got here" played

With intention,

Cause really eye just

Looked up &

Blurted out a question.

 

Walking, around circles

Thinking without distance

Drinking, down for the

Sinking. "Don't mention it"

 

Take a eye, for a lie,

Cause it's never unseen.

Done for the regime

I learned from

"Him & ME!"

First came offense but

Third came defeat

Secondly, an ego like

"me", wouldn't retreat.

Bills came in as I

Searched for ease,

My good fortune fooled

By commander's greed.

 

Eye look at money,

Viewed by the sky.

Then I look down,

What's moving on by?

Yes,

Open hands have

Bills today

While covered in

Bills to date.

 

Before I rush

A tempted escape,

I'll resume

High attempts

To scape

What it means to

'Be U.'

 

A good day,

But everyday is

A Great Day-

Breathe in---- I exhale;

"Oh what a cycle,

I Love It"

The purest way to 'be',

Do it proud

In the public.

Beyond it;

Loveless.

 

A part of the

Rubbish is proud.

Publicly flung around.

All I hear is sound.

Not every day will be

Bearable clouds.

Don't mean shit,

I'm saving rounds.

 

Seen through daps,

Deciphered the pound,

Dodging "what now?"

From listening out people,

Only annotate my steps;

Two, cold rooms.

© Blustone