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.
​
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© 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.
​
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© Blustone