Life provides the contours, poets provide the shading and color ~ r

Rick Richardson
All rights reserved.
Life provides the contours, poets provide the shading and color ~ r

Rick Richardson
All rights reserved.
r
r
2 days ago

Night, that old sinkhole
of the soul, climbs
the dark stairs of despair
who knows what the moon
is thinking behind that one-eyed
stare clawing his way through
the pines outside my window
carrying bootblack in a blanket
when it's colder for shining shoes
that go with my black suit
and the red rose on the pillow
I burn before the morning.

r
r
7 days ago

Love is a word
like a sword
that has worn
out its scabbard,
a lonely bastard,
or a red rose
that opens alone,
a dream that lingers
for too many seasons
and passes in the shadows,
furrows in the dust
on a bannister,
a rock in the garden
of lust,
an empty place
at a table,
a ring on a cobweb
in the rain,
a long hair on your bed,
a nail in a blank wall.

r
r
Jan 6

Just give me
a blindfold
and a cigarette,
or two.

r
r
Jan 4

She sang Hallelujah
I said Amen
sing it again
Sister
just like Leonard
in a voice
so light
and subtle
it could darken
dark eyes
and I will wear black
like a knight
who must compose
himself before day
breaks forever into
its weary fever.

#cohen  
r
r
Dec 29, 2016

You know what I mean
that person who seems
to you in your dreams
a bit more than lust
but just shy of love
who can drive you mad
with only one glance
and I'm not talking about
getting into those pants
no, what I mean is
something beyond desire
more than a fire
but not quite the one
that would leave you broken
hearted and alone if she danced
with every man in the room
but, man, I sure do like the way
those butterflies in her panties
make me feel like a lepidopterist
rather than an archaeologist.

r
r
Dec 28, 2016

A stare
will become
a scar
if you don't watch it
like a hawk
and if you let it
loose darkness
will swoop
through the rafters
in the loft
while you lie there
letting night
swell into a wound
like the red moon
and your eyes
will fill with vines
of poison ivey
itching to be blind
and wishing
to pour the pain
away forevermore.

r
r
Dec 25, 2016

To all of you poets
down South and up North
West and to the East
whoever you are
whatever your beliefs
I wish you much joy
happiness and peace
for on this one night
at least think no more
of spite, anger and war
sickness, sorrow or grief
for wherever you are
may kindness be the star
that lights all of our ways.

Peace to you, holy poets.
 
To comment on this poem, please log in or create a free account
Log in or register to comment