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***