Actions Louder Than words

Lost expectations

in the formative years  

cast faceless impressions

of difficult new beginnings

into figurines perched on

the chess board

of a lifetime

Faded indelible words

were read out loud,

found within and between

someday’s lines

Banished by a jury of peers

for rumored emotional turbulence

Invisibly eternally tattooed

on the outside of the mask

of my mind.

Branded and scared 

by the poignant white hot iron

of embedded forgotten fears. 

Anyone who had a heart

knows what will be will be…

When you think

you have it all?

You have it all to loose…

What matters is found

scattered among the words

within the lines’ of the heart’s

myriad of sentiment sung

Impassioned spirit

adorns the essence

of kindred hearts and souls

Volumes of evocative

poetic descriptions sketch

define and implement

hopeful deeds of kindness

Verbs written over time

can fade as if they were

evaporating tear drops 

Actual essence moves

dimensions of thoughts

miles of space…

Words left unspoken

only tentatively exist

while traveling

this journey of miles…

Unspoken reflections 

carried as baggage

Silenced within insecure moments

Words emotionally summoned

yet left unspoken

vanish like dust in the wind

Actions stir emotions of the soul…

The sounds of actions breaking silence

remind you of foot steps walking a mile.

Inaction is silenced by raucous verbs

Their rhythm is the beat of effort

Music... to an empathetic soul’s ears…

© 2012 Harlon Rivers 

Giving Back on Thanksgiving ...a journal entry...

"Were it not for hope, the heart would break."
~Scottish proverb

Please reach out to those less fortunate...there are countless  “homeless families”…Some thoughts about spending  Thanksgiving with the homeless …A hot meal truly is the beginning of hope... Love is a purpose for being...

On this morning after, I’m walking off balance, on a bit of an emotional high wire.   There has been an emotional roller coaster ride going on for about 365 days now, that has come full circle.   It started out with an unexpected repressed memory flushing to the surface that more or less knocked me off the rails.   If dealing with that wasn't enough I was back on a very emotional journey back to a rescue mission I had visited on Sunday’s with my Sunday school youth group much earlier in my life.  I had been there for other reasons too.  

 I've been back there several years in a row but this year was so much more emotional than past years.   There seems to be so many more homeless people and the families with children?...Well is just breaks my heart.   I don’t want this to be triggering for anyone that reads but I would still wish to share a little because it may encourage someone else to get involved and lend a helping hand. I have to be honest there are other safer ways to help.  There are many charities out there, my favorites include animal shelters, this mission for the homeless and Hospice.   Don’t read on if you are triggered by a highly sensitive, emotional description of  experiences at a homeless mission at Thanksgiving.    There just is no other way to tell it because it is what is real…

Here is a snippet of what went on from my journaling:      

Slept poorly as yesterday’s food prep time, and some clothes and blanket sorting, was reason for some soul stirring and pots and pans stirring too.   The best or worst part is that because of the storms last week more stuff was needed.  So I helped with the coats and hygiene sundries first.   Right out of the gate while helping organize the messed up piles of used clothing while, street people sorted through them, I interacted with 2 different homeless men and one women, likely a street walker.   I’m not being judgmental here; I want to be honest and realistic of the painful parts of the real world that were experienced at this intersection of destiny.

The soft spoken woman politely thanked me for a soft warm blanket and a coat for her little girl.   I also gave her a personal hygiene packet full of women stuff as well as many pamphlets and brochures about outreach programs.

Back to the men whom I feared I'd have more difficulty reaching out to.   Not at all, after the first sentence from one of them.   He asked me if I thought a coat he had in his hands would fit him and would it be warm?   I said “yes, my friend... I knew that because that coat was formally mine, I just brought it here a moment ago”...There was no time for warm ups or stretching just instant reality of the street…The tears flowed from these two eyes and his glowed back in return.   Next he pulled a filthy handkerchief out of his pocket and tried to hand it to me to wipe my eyes...I quickly snorted and wiped away the tears with my sleeve.   I then walked outside by a line that was waiting to get in...Anxiety hit me and I thought of running.   I walked a block away with tears flooding my eyes and then turned around 180 degrees, back to my commitment.   You see, I realize I needed them more than they need me.

The other man was not so chatty, so I spoke to him but we did not look into each others eyes.   He either saw or felt what had just happened so it was pretty quiet and awkward.   I dug in and found another outdoor coat I had bought the other day at Goodwill for 1/2 price and asked him to try it.  It fit well enough; it was warm and a bonus...water proof!    He couldn't say much but after I gave him the same packet as the others, well the one for men, he asked me “Will you be here tomorrow, early?”.   I said yes and that maybe I would watch for him and try to serve him dinner at 10 am by the way...Knowing full well there would be so many people that it could be nearly impossible to meet again.

This was a very personal experience...Enough life went on in 2 days to write a book...At this moment I am emotionally exhausted.   An Empath feels all raw emotion as if it were his own.   Being an Empath is not a form of mental disorder...It can cause overwhelming social anxiety which no one I have ever met has really understood. But this entry is not about that...It is written to advocate for the homeless...Please, please understand how much it means to give what you can...love is all there is...

“ I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget who you are, but people will never forget how you made them feel. ~ Walter Winchell

Love is a Season

focus drifts in and out

on this rainiest of dark nights
my heart is low... as love turned cold
with the first frost of the changing seasons.
the golden sorrow of the fallen autumn leaves
carpet the November wilderness floor

traces of yesterday's sunshine
disappeared into a thick shroud of fog,
clouding the uncharted pathways
in the fields of lost enchantment.
glowing dreams faded
into the veil of the misty horizon
as the setting sun was enveloped
by the blanket of pending twilight.

sleepless eyes reveal my restless soul...
bitter sweet emotions flood a weary heart
mourning… the dream that’s over
grateful… for the hypnotic trance
lamenting… the thoughts of wasted love
thankful…we could walk a mile together

"love is a season that came to pass"
adore evolved with the gentle summer breezes
moving me like a blue bird’s feather
in a hot summer wind shear...
suddenly changing directions as if it were washed away
in a torrential tempest squall
of winter’s pending unpredictable season.

refreshed life dawns with each rising sun
while new moons radiate luminous reflections
upon the ebb and flow of life’s changing tides.
"unconditional love is an eternal season that shall never pass"
enriching the infinite presence of our true nature...

Coping With This moment...

Early today this started out as a letter to someone I had not spoken to in a few days and was a follow up to where we had left off last week. I thought this friend wanted to be part of my life but I was wrong again...Considering the subject matter I decided to come back here and add it to the Domino pile as they seem to continue to relentlessly fall.


…This week has gone much like I anticipated so far and it was been good to see a few people I have not seen in a while at the fund raiser. It seems as though I am not the only person that struggles with the holidays. For me, too much alone time is toxic and the opposite of what I need.


There is a tendency for me to become more vulnerable towards codependency this time of year. These past 8 months have exacerbated it. At least I know it and try to channel the need to feel needed, mutually needed really, into volunteer projects. I can battle with illusions of rejection because of what I perceive to be true. It is deeply rooted in the early years and at least I am aware of it so I continue to try to discover new ways to cope long term…It isn't something I can just accept. I have tried that and it seems more like denial in my case.


The local Hospice Tree Of Life ceremony is right after Thanksgiving and some how I will find a way to participate. I had not really thought much about how much interaction I have had with Hospice, until I started thinking about Music RX again. I got into Music RX in December last year. It is not one of their programs but a Hospice nurse/friend encouraged me to participate before my injury last March…What I cannot do is go to the children’s hospitals without participating. It is far too emotional for me and is why I have been unable to become a CCA Chemo Pal even though I want to. I guess music is a crutch in a way…It takes the social anxiety away when I am able to be behind the music instead of in front of it.


There are so many rescue missions in a big city that provide much needed help this time of year as it turns cold and wet on the streets. A hot meal is truly the first step in establishing hope. People can get coats, sundries, toiletries, blankets as well as opportunities for out reach programs like medical and mental health access. All those things are not enough…Love is the thing needed most and that is what giving to the less fortunate is about in my mind.


I wish there were some missions around here closer. However, the 30 minute drive isn't that bad. If the practice group goes back to Sundays, then I could start the day at the gospel mission I went to as a child and early teen, work the soup kitchen, explore the city for the day and then hit the practice group session late afternoon. That is the direction I was headed in March. There is a senior center in the closest town that needs so help, but those folks don’t have the same kinds of needs. I get the "street" because I have been there.


It relates more to the drawbacks of a large population center and those that fall off the grid because of assorted circumstances. Some just choose to live a non-conformists life. That is their choice but not the ones I see myself as committed to trying to help. I have had some self destructive episodes in the city when I was younger. I was not supervised and ended up in the gutter, the sidewalk and in soup kitchens and soup kitchen lines. How many kids did you know that went to jail for curfew violations and were never picked up because the cops couldn't reach the parents? I had to stay in jail with the hookers, drunks and druggies…It happened more than once before I was 18…


Thinking of it reminds me that I had an uncle that stayed in my room after he was kicked out of my dad’s mom and dad’s house. He was an alcoholic and my dad had to bail him out of jail a couple of times a month and offer a bed to sleep it off. What could dad do? It was his brother…He would sneak whiskey into my bedroom upstairs where he would get drunk and pass out. It sounds a bit scary but he would never have hurt me. Once I saw him pull his own tooth with a pair of pliers…Yikes!!!


Well…I did not plan on talking about street life and the holidays but this has been an extremely difficult day so I guess I needed to…Really I think I am reminded today, to be thankful and grateful I have a roof over my head and food on my table even if I am more lonely than ever. When you are alone you can get self absorbed and forget how good you have it.


I just hope that the few people that will read this will just reach out to someone over the holidays or any day for that matter…There are a lot of people that look like me that are very lonely during the holidays even though you would never notice because it eats away invisibly, from the inside out.…. 

I could be your neighbor or the server from the coffee shop or that face you remembered drinking alone in the bar, that face you will not easily forget for some unknown reason. You may not be able to tell those eyes apart from looking into the mirror. When you see some hollow, vacant eyes…say hello in there….

Finding "Too Misunderstood"

A narrative free form poem about the many crossroads of our journeys… when all purpose seems “Too Misunderstood”

…a poem by Harlon Rivers

…if a tree falls in the forest, does anybody hear?   Photo Harlon Rivers 

Finding Too Misunderstood

Once there was a lost soul who felt too misunderstood   
It searched untiringly across the vast universe,
in query of an illusive, seemingly undiscoverable explanation.
It had become a lost alien in an unfamiliar,  ever- evolving world;
inhaling the caustic air of quintessential perplexity

Cast out by  mainstream conformity
Banished by a jury of peers,
“Too Misunderstood" set out alone
Searching the mystic skies;
seeking understanding of past unanswerable questions

As if the inspiration read from the greatest minds,
thoughts conceived by supreme intellectual spirits,
music stimulated by the greatest iconic performers,
evaded his simple mind’s quest for enlightened reasoning
Perception of truth...  

Frustration exhausted and consumed this soul's very existence,
so he hunched beneath a giant Old Growth Douglas Fir to rest in
that familiar place of comfort and safety,  isolated in solitude...
A place where so many answers had been discovered
while evaluating a soul's essence
during heightened emotional moments
of misunderstood sensitivity

The misunderstood soul hugged the sacred familiar ground,
where Mother Earth harbored her deeply grounded mysteries
The secrets held within her non-penetrated density, 
where a soul’s human form evolved from the
marrow of her deepest roots

"Too Misunderstood" embraced her earthly stature,
all the while, listening in contemplative stillness within 
Hoping beyond hope, the answers revealed would be sung
with the voices of the gentle whispering breeze.
The enormous tree wept rain drops
onto the porous thirsting soul beneath;
yielding to the energy of the spirit of nature...

She could only speak in assuaging tongues,
and yet, the soul that felt too misunderstood,
vividly felt the spirit of empathy
from compassionate understanding realms,
as a peaceful spiritual aura lingered
within the breadth of the sultry air...

In the awakening of a transcendent moment,
“Thunder” clapped from the heavens !!!
 
                        Kaboom!!!

... Spontaneously illuminating extraordinary brightness...

                        Kaboom!!!

...Explosive rumbling rolled!…Detonation of apathetic silence...

A bolt of lightning struck nowness...

The Giant Fir Tree was splintering!!!

Her mighty limbs came crashing down

in a sympathetic agony

of merciful surrender...

...Lightning struck the humbled, frightened soul…

...Flattening the human form to its knees...

...Enkindling awareness... 
                      from the threshold of benumbed consciousness...

At the confluence of an inciting passion
In the aftermath of indecision
In the haze of the smoldering vestige
of love's healing energy and splintered dust,
the too misunderstood soul
found peace of understanding within
the powerful presence of the moment's solitude

All truth’s infinite roots are eternally grounded
within the bedrock of the soul...

Harlon Rivers © 2012