It doesn't matter how many days
Pass before my eyes
I find new, better ways
To let myself die

I quit smoking, I quit drinking, I quit running, I quit thinking
Tomorrow finds new time
To keep my ass alive

I'll search a hundred lifetimes
Before I let it go
I find new, better ways
To carry on the show

Started joking, started laughing, started crying, started doping
Tomorrow finds new time
To bury my ass alive

A cause is a substitute heartbeat
Keeps the way pure
I find new, better ways
To develop a cure

Quit loving, Quit fighting, Started Sleeping, Started Writing
Tomorrow finds new time,
Don't make me stay alive

As fast as ocean sweeps the bay
legs of crescent carry away
a sea of wonder that will reject
the sweetest moons you collect
in the palm of your hand soft as peach
slender spine strains to reach
the sun in the sky too far for advice
on speaking to creatures fragile as ice
because the sweetest girl, dear Josephine
shielded by blue instead of green
has a smile painted upon the wall
from the museum fortress she dare not fall
because the places we venture will seem
only to exist before in your dreams
never so lonesome as an unshared bed
cluttered with thoughts of remorse instead
slamming doors in the old broken home
cover the windows high with stones
when travels far and wide resume
remember your home is always the moon.

the place is packed
and you're slumped over the oak
the sauce rushing like a wild river
through your veins.

you wave a restless hand to the bartender
who walks over uneasily.
he's scared
worried that one more
might set you off.
he carefully pulls your glass away
and motions to the owner
who comes up from behind
puts a hand on your shoulder
asks if you're all right.
he's big
but his hand is trembling.
he's even more leery.
a dead drunk
in the middle of a crowded place
is bad for business
and an irate drunk is just the same.
there's a fine line to be drawn.
though your words are slurred and incoherent
you somehow manage to convince him
that you're good enough to carry on.

he backs off
and you order another drink
brood over it for a minute
then suck it down
as the room spins in devilish rounds
and the many faces cast upon you
appear fuzzy
bleak
subnormal.

you try to stand up
try to maintain
stumble into a broad
who shrieks in horror as
she shoves you away
and the next thing you know
you're shot out the door
like a rocket
into the night:

truly
a sight to be
seen.





from Slinking Under The Electric Bulb (2012)

A southern blend of jasmine and magonolia waft across the grounds an in it is a mixture of tell
Tale knowing a little smoulder lies in her eyes it causes you to anticapate a well spoken word
First it has a different sound than the rest of the country it has a bluesy age to it like it has come
From the delta it took its on sweet time in doing so it is bold just with enough southen sass to
Keep you alert you can’t take for granted that which is explosive and vibrant you don’t live in
The rise and fall of such rich history and not carry a mystery and confidence that is allureing
Tressels and verandas build the tender mood of gentel beckoning that is adorded as seasoned
Fashion spell binding unabashed qaulity is seen in modest means that streams like blue bells that
Have been turned to liquid by charms power and it lays like a long lasy haze that reaches the
Far horizion with a sigh you stop and deeply meditate this creates strong thoughts that go out
From your inner self like a suden strong wind that list and goes where you no not but
refreshment Is left in its wake like an old winding road it not the arriving but the going that is
awsome it delivers Many sights like the night it holds wonders of compassion as an old man you
see in his eyes That knowing that shows care you feel a welcome embracing toucing you for
Dixie makes a Speacial brew it takes long long southern days and paitennce here is derived like
no other place you get that taste of grace speaking slowly it is a trait of the wise that came by
it not by racing To it but by a slow assurance that only grows when you give it time it gives life
a higher qaulity that Is rare in our modern world why would you take a speed boat when you can
go by paddle wheel and go to a place called Natchez eithier real or imagined gentel thoughts
invade and they are a gloroious parade with all sorts of colors and floats that portray geenteel
sentiments some of it is the feeling of loss that great and real times that held such sway are truly
gone with the wind bedeviled by a women she wears a oversized hat that frames her and in many
ways explains her the showing of a well spring of love to be bathed in her voice it trully is the
finding of that memory and grand glory of a true sothern bell walk softly in this spell created
over many treasured moments in southern rays and moonlight kissed by a protective certiny of
woman hood found in no other place cover me God in sothern primose dreams until I walk again
on the great southern soil

I think it’s the way I write,
So you can’t cease my words
and you can’t see me
Wandering.
You try following me through a pool of thoughts.
To be what?
A friend?
A comfort?
But I read you.
You take it all back within seconds.
Maybe it’s the way I talk
So you don’t understand my language
Or grab it away
Like you can’t find me
Or like my thoughts
They’re hiding
I’m hiding
You’re hiding.
And I’m wondering.
Maybe it’s the way I observe, so closely catching any forbidden words,
I sing those that land in my ear.
I’m the outsider that knows every one of your expressions,
every movement you make,
I’m already 3 steps ahead of you.
My body watches closely,
Digs into every sound, a shovel to bury you underground.
Wouldn’t you know?
You never thought to look
Inside me, inside my words
Myself, only I carry a hate as conspicuous as the hate you give everyone who touches you.
But you know. Don’t you?
Everyone knows.
I know
But I wonder
I wonder, I wander, I’m trapped in a corner of pressure, unfinished business.
I don’t want you here, I don’t want you anywhere near me.
I can’t be stuck with you forever.
So I think I’ll walk myself back,
And crush your words.

I think it’s the way I write,
So you can’t cease my words
and you can’t see me
Wandering.
You try following me through a pool of thoughts.
To be what?
A friend?
A comfort?
But I read you.
You take it all back within seconds.
Maybe it’s the way I talk
So you don’t understand my language
Or grab it away
Like you can’t find me
Or like my thoughts
They’re hiding
I’m hiding
You’re hiding.
And I’m wondering.
Maybe it’s the way I observe, so closely catching any forbidden words,
I sing those that land in my ear.
I’m the outsider that knows every one of your expressions,
every movement you make,
I’m already 3 steps ahead of you.
My body watches closely,
Digs into every sound, a shovel to bury you underground.
Wouldn’t you know?
You never thought to look
Inside me, inside my words
Myself, only I carry a hate as conspicuous as the hate you give everyone who touches you.
But you know. Don’t you?
Everyone knows.
I know
But I wonder
I wonder, I wander, I’m trapped in a corner of pressure, unfinished business.
I don’t want you here, I don’t want you anywhere near me.
I can’t be stuck with you forever.
So I think I’ll walk myself back,
And crush your words.

I think it’s the way I write,
So you can’t cease my words
and you can’t see me
Wandering.
You try following me through a pool of thoughts.
To be what?
A friend?
A comfort?
But I read you.
You take it all back within seconds.
Maybe it’s the way I talk
So you don’t understand my language
Or grab it away
Like you can’t find me
Or like my thoughts
They’re hiding
I’m hiding
You’re hiding.
And I’m wondering.
Maybe it’s the way I observe, so closely catching any forbidden words,
I sing those that land in my ear.
I’m the outsider that knows every one of your expressions,
every movement you make,
I’m already 3 steps ahead of you.
My body watches closely,
Digs into every sound, a shovel to bury you underground.
Wouldn’t you know?
You never thought to look
Inside me, inside my words
Myself, only I carry a hate as conspicuous as the hate you give everyone who touches you.
But you know. Don’t you?
Everyone knows.
I know
But I wonder
I wonder, I wander, I’m trapped in a corner of pressure, unfinished business.
I don’t want you here, I don’t want you anywhere near me.
I can’t be stuck with you forever.
So I think I’ll walk myself back,
And crush your words.

I think it’s the way I write,
So you can’t cease my words
and you can’t see me
Wandering.
You try following me through a pool of thoughts.
To be what?
A friend?
A comfort?
But I read you.
You take it all back within seconds.
Maybe it’s the way I talk
So you don’t understand my language
Or grab it away
Like you can’t find me
Or like my thoughts
They’re hiding
I’m hiding
You’re hiding.
And I’m wondering.
Maybe it’s the way I observe, so closely catching any forbidden words,
I sing those that land in my ear.
I’m the outsider that knows every one of your expressions,
every movement you make,
I’m already 3 steps ahead of you.
My body watches closely,
Digs into every sound, a shovel to bury you underground.
Wouldn’t you know?
You never thought to look
Inside me, inside my words
Myself, only I carry a hate as conspicuous as the hate you give everyone who touches you.
But you know. Don’t you?
Everyone knows.
I know
But I wonder
I wonder, I wander, I’m trapped in a corner of pressure, unfinished business.
I don’t want you here, I don’t want you anywhere near me.
I can’t be stuck with you forever.
So I think I’ll walk myself back,
And crush your words.

Standing at the threshold in the silent space
between thunder and lightening
Straddling the door sill of uncertainty,
stranded in a continuum of discontent

One foot in…One foot out
It's just a  step away…One foot forward
while the other follows the wanderlust
of an evolving enigma

The first step begins
a journey of a thousand miles
Walk to the end of this long and winding road
Carry the weight of an unfinished life in this soul

Breathe in the stillness
of the tempest calm
The ethereal instant within
the eerie pause  of natural hesitation

The exhilarating silent fusion linking the anticipation
between the bolt of lightning and the thunderclap ;
nature’s well performed sleight of hand
Two souls touch igniting carnal synthesis

Reaching upward to the heavens they draw strength
from the spirit of the lightening and the hail
The ominous sky’s anger … the storm’s fury fuel's the essence of verve
Vibrant celestial elements manifests a drenching downpour

Heightened senses are enhanced by an electric aura
squeezing out every last drop
from the enchanting moment of stunned silence
Spirits transcend a cleansing rain ... invigorating heart of soul ~

©Harlon Rivers 2013 ...February 28th, 2013