Vocal Chimera

... understand this moment has come to just write what you feel… don’t ever let anyone say what you believe you feel is wrong ~

... calling out my name

from the far off distance,

an enchanting  tone of voice

came to me in a dream ...

what if I was heard from another realm?

my soul screaming 

into the silence of the night?

... answering just wouldn't matter

when there is no one listening …

... awakened …

by a throaty voice

breaking the silence of slumber

... quietly standing tall

unable to escape from a dream

that’s already come and gone …

... believing in something hard enough

does not make it true

ignorance of some portion of the truth

only makes you slightly aware

no matter how crystal clear

the vivid truth becomes…

whether you are taking

the placebo or the medication

... perception heals all wounds

answering rhetorical questions out loud

left me alone at dawn

stranded like a black sheep

banished from the fold …

... questions aren't really questions

when the answers are already known

misunderstanding the literal

erroneously innocent out of unawareness

seems like getting lost
taking the wrong road home ...

© 2012 Harlon Rivers

"Am I ?"

During our life's journey,  things go wrong in relationships when we least expect it…The emotional aftermath of picking up the pieces and moving on, lead to this poem written this past April … History repeats itself...On this day it is as real again as it ever was...

Am I Still Crawling?

The beginning was

over before the start…

It was daunting how she could read

my reflection, in the still waters,

like the book about the stormy seas of my mind.

It is said that “still waters run deep”

Is my soul’s estuary a shallow and barren desert?

With too many glaring imperfections ?

Have the depths of my soul

reached for the lighted surface

only to see hope evaporate into thin air?

Wanting to feel understood

is a reflection of my heart

and yet I feel the need to harbor, 

dark, undiscoverable traits...

Am I, one heart only lying to my mind?

As if I was not whole?

Four separated distinct parts…

These hands adorn the quill of

the head, the heart, body and soul...

Without synchronicity,

am I only an illusion of my own wholeness?

After carefully considering

my reflections in the mirror of her eyes,

a panic fell like a dark fog,

blocking the vision into the book of my mind.

Backed up against the corner wall,

I felt like running as my biggest fears manifest

in the realization that our final  moment had come...

If… “Am I ? ” ... is the question?

Four separated, incongruent pieces is the answer…

I’ve been fooling myself all along

Walking

away seemed better

than running…

Crawling away

on my hands and knees

just seems unfair.…

© 2012 Harlon Rivers

A Lifetime of Dreams

Is it loneliness or intuitive instinct that creates the desire to be held in a lover's grasp…unconditionally… eternally?    Yearning to completely surrender to love...There is no greater force than the hollow void  felt when you suspect you no longer ignite that special glow in your lovers heart.  Be the change you wish to see...

... a  poem by Harlon Rivers

My heart beats so loudly within my quivering chest

I look around to see if anyone else

notices the apparent body tremors

Their deafening sound over powers my emotions

A tempest of overwhelming loneliness

floods altered consciousness

I feel the earth moving beneath

the polished cut stone floor

Nervous tension is exhaled as a sigh

into the candlelit, perfume scented air

So thick you could cut it with a knife.

It seems as though the wine in my glass

moves mystically like the storming seas

as the glass stands untouched on the table.

Out of the corner of my glancing eyes,

lovers have embraced across the room

after a romantic passionate slow dance.

I did not look away

I feel visibly shaken and ashamed

for dreaming about their ardent moment

Sensuality awakened, raw yearning totally exposed,

my vulnerable demure is naked in full view

and yet reserved, shamelessly hungry

for love’s enchanting fusion

The trap was set and tripped

the voyeur the only victim uncovered

spellbound on the threshold of a my silent reverie

Lonely, feeling trapped,

awaiting the final merciful surrender to love…

“Oh love, your past memory leads me on

Set me free from the lingering seasons that haunt me

Unchain my unhealed heart

Heal the scars from the ties that bound me

Allow me to come alive again and drink from love’s cup.

Take me to your secret garden

Reveal,  sincerely,  your most intimate secrets

Inhale every breath of my heart and soul

Complete me… allowing us to thrive wholeheartedly,
abundantly living,  each and every precious moment spent together”…

Is it too much to dream to desire to be held infinitely?

As if there was no other soul to love in the universe?

Is it desperation that creates the desire

to be held in your lover's grasp?

…unconditionally… eternally

I will sacrifice all that is me

I will surrender a lifetime of dreams

To walk hand and hand

these final miles as one love…

Edited from a Word Whisperer publishing August © 2012 Harlon Rivers 

The Essence of Sweet Peas

a poem by Harlon Rivers...

“Dance at Bougival”  artist Pierre- Auguste Renoir 1882-1883

A Sweet Pea Minuet

An unrecognizable minuet plays mysteriously in the obscure distance

The hypnotic triple time notes have mesmerized vulnerable emotions

A subtle, yet familiar fragrant aroma

swirls in each breath of the gentle breeze ~

Enchanting harmony floating towards the fantasia of a vintage minuet

The closer I get … the more I realize it is you at last.

I inhale the tantalizing elixir of your sweet pea essence

Adoring your warm and gentle graceful elegance

as we drift and glide as if our dream’s seeds were planted

within the dream dust of my mind,

budding and blossoming in a glorious moment...

Surrendering all consciousness stepping off the threshold

into a dream of a 17th century vision of desire,

exhilarated by the passionate dance of two kindred souls.

The ashes of the forgotten, the broken dreams left behind,

have finally vanished like dust in the winds of time

The hazy mist of your angelic aura leaves me flushed,

spell bound and level with earth...

The anticipation of fresh dreams together

emerged in the dizzying haze of emotional surrender ~

The atmosphere swirled with the whirlwind of your presence;

magnetism of essence awakens,

intoxicating my heart

with your magical elixir of life.

I savored and sipped every enchanting drop

of the moments sacred nectar

Neither dream dust nor the Sandman can control

the destinies of our dreams or what the allure of hope holds

Willingly we spin with an uncontrollable yearning

As the minuet ends, the secrets of our love’s pirouette evolves

Its voluptuous swell is only the initial alluring dance

mesmerizing the blissful seeds of desire

sprouting in dream dust...

Interwoven French Braids

a poem by Harlon Rivers

Weave the threads of this life

into your life’s rich tapestry

Braid my true nature intimately

into your silky-smooth hair

as if it were a seamless interwoven strand

in a Classic French braid... adorning your grace

Unravel the threads of this beating heart

Entwine the fibers of this soul,

intertwining the very fabric of our spirits

Witness life evolving into an ornate,

interwoven tapestry of utopia,

as dreams blossom into fruition...

The warp and woof of two unfinished lives,

weaving underlying structure,

on which an infinite adore is built

into the quilted fabric 

of eternal love

Entangle me 

in your sticky, silken web

Desire the essence 

of these threads that bind

Run your fingers through my hair,

spinning a silken cocoon,

enveloping all of this nakedness

in a passionate embrace

Surrendering flesh and blood,

as naturally sown seeds

reap adoring, committed wholeness…