Poets Come and Go ...

Poets Come and Go

poems ebb and poems flow ~

doubt shadows crossroads
pathways to and fro

the weight upon poetic hearts
course down roads unknown

nothing lasts forever
ne’er look back the road

invisible ... "so it goes"
do unto ... moving on

here tomorrow
gone today walk on

self-soothe the torn soul

never fall in love ...

     ... alone ...

sub-entry : 2 cents worth ...

... the revolving trap door
    of the omnipresent virtual world
    leaves me feeling hollow
    melancholy & barren at times ;
    indifference is not in this DNA ,
    a bitter sweet torn for those often alone ...

... recently I was asked , why embrace solitude ...?(!)
    I did not answer until now ... it was not my plan ...
    albeit I feel lost watching little pieces of heart broken off ;
    chipped away , digital detachment , abandoned , left bleeding
    can a heart get smaller ?(!)

...  what will become of hearts if we keep them hidden... ?(!)
     must it be hidden from perched atop sleeves to shelter...?(!)
     what's the purpose of creative fruition if boundaries              shield,  detachment to save your heart ...?(!)

... cyberbullying wears many disguises to the highly sensitive !

... what is a healthy boundary and will it help you save yourself
    from yourself when cyber-connectedness wanes ?(!)

... is writing a season ?(!)
... if love is a season , why not beat the retreat ?(!)

... all rhetorical questions internalized, yet ,
    I ask myself unashamedly out loud ,
    purging loathed frustrations that highlight
    our live's unplanned imperfections

    At the moment, perhaps self-preservation is instinct ---

... respecting "space"...
    do unto others golden rule --- 

... attrition happens in all forms of communities
    and yet it is,selfishly disheartening ....

    this , a cathartic vented side effect
    of the dispiriting turnover in online communities ...

... where have all the flowers gone?

... I've never been very good at letting go ,
    and besides that , I just don't want to ...

harlon rivers

October 21, 2013

The Gravity of Falling Leaves

The Gravity of Falling Leaves

The weight of morning dewdrops
gravity unclasps synthesis' grasp
they float and drift in dawning stillness
the Autumn leaves come falling down

Firewood stacked twelve by twenty-four,
cordwood for a thousand enchanting fires
sparks a hopefulness for a sustaining credence
igniting only one burning desire ,
warmth to fill a hollow chilling void

Stalled in a moment's startling narcosis
torn between all the things wished for
and believing no one needs anything

A house built for a life you don’t have
unbridled hope pounded the nails ;
build a fire to warm a lonesome heart ,
in a dream you were once running to me

Breathlessly submitting in willful surrender
moonstruck imagination coming to life
awakened by the crackle of the fire
sobering sensibilities fleeting flight

How unintended over and over repeats itself ;
rediscovering that solitude is alone ...

Harlon Rivers

October 14th, 2013

A Restless River's Flow

A poem is as young as the inner child’s ache ;

just like a man , is as old as the ancient spirits within heart of soul

An abacus education is underrated as a hay seed ,

misunderstood is what is and will remain to be too deep ,

taken my time don't make me slow, undead is something to be

The body is a cage and the mind holds the key...

turn it, pray tell, to unlock the chains that bind thee




As a pup I fetched my mother's barbed wire bones

'till my gums bled soap suds to appease thee ..

I never learned a tear was a sign of weakness

cause tied to a chair and beaten...it ain’t jubilee

testified with ink tears for all heightened senses coursing shamelessly ;

testified for those who came before me and left far too soon unknown




Answer-less questions how... answer-less questions why ? (!)

perplexing beyond human bounds of understanding ;

that kinda torn turns kindred souls into too blue ink flow ,

guitar string raw blisters blood red ...

gasping hearts struggle to breathe




...just please breathe (!)...all things must pass (?) ... let me bereave (!)




I beg, do not stop trying to reach inside the broken-unbroken geode stone

re-created the spirit, born of thunder's egg

feel the lightning's egg yolk yellow mist in the breeze

a simple do unto flesh being, kinetic not static ,

paying for mistakes made,



encaged asunder imperfections swept under

the rug haunted by an infinite loneliness ache ;

never had enough hugs leaves an ill-defined lesson learnt ,

stigma-ed, damaged goods from the corner of rose colored glasses

yet seeking a oneness, at moments only surviving

the one in this skin I wish to shed

Never sniffed a gift fish nor criticized what wasn't understood .




Don’t count many too many moons for to know a measure for purpose

I lost love before I found it was the purpose, mistakes I mourn

and, now all the bondage that stirs and churns within the wound

is yearning to incarnate silently free




The expansion of love's light shall surrender the ache breaking the rapacious silence

to fly with the wind as human hearts go out until there is nothing left ;

every word will have meaning whence the heart pulses eternally exposed ...

accepting every heartbeat expressed will have meaning

as the eternal poem never ends ...




***harlon rivers ...October 10, 2013***