The hollow wind funneled the voice
of the distant night-train crossings,
awakening  a  familiar  silence
hanging from the vast wilderness sky
A restless heart hearkening the echoes,
imagining  a  runaway  Pullman
flew away off the rails,    airborne
on the winged wind headed north

Winter  pausing  for a moment
in  the  shadows  of  familiarity,
as if parsing the unspoken breathings
in an  echoless  surrendered sigh;
uncertain if tacit words set free
could ever allow a heart broken
        to feel whole again

There  is  no  absolving  voice
that whispers in a solemner tone :
        Death  has  no  mercy  ―  
love remains marooned in the wake ,..
and it feels like the world’s gone mad
letting time be the arbiter of perpetuity

The fading dream of a motherless child;
a wish to be held maternally
fell to the ground with a thud,
        breaking the silence,
dissipating formless as the shape of water

Muted cold lips so full of questions
morphing into fugitive sighs
come the unsettled night;
when shadows disappear like frail memories
that  passed  too  soon  to  grasp,
thickly palpable as the warm breath
a winter bird alone on frosty branch

There’s no fear in braving the darkness
in the  winter wilderness of life borne alone
There’s no way of knowing what you’ll find
down that long empty road back home
Life just flashes by silently before your eyes
        through the windshield
    of countless miles and miles

And there’s nothing you can do about it ―
It’s like hearing the moment of truth in a lie
when all I was looking for
was  how I got here in this now,.. yesterday

only finding a hopeless poet
scribbling  slightly stained pages,
spilling  a  bitter  sweet  dream ...


        harlon rivers ... February 2018


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I dreamt of you the other day

Such sweet resonance with your presence, it echoed a calm I only experience with you; awoken, and sound

You caught me in a time of plight, pulled me forth in valiant fervor

Your smile shined upon me, and I felt safe; feverishly exposing your excitement to explore the horizon

We drove into the fog; your warmth was tangible, even in my subconscious dwelling

Next to you, I simply felt good; a place I can not substitute

I felt calm, as if all qualms and scores of darkness simply melted away; you seemed happier than I had ever seen when I had not declined your beckoning

I felt home, and you seemed content to feel the same with me by you

If ever that could be true when I awake for this, life would forever be a dream

I dreamt for peace, and you were there; simplicity, two threads cut from the same cloth, bound together

I hope to bring you the same light

They tell you it’s a game and then they toy with you, they say that life is to be taken seriously and they make a joke of you.
They say that this is the way that all life works yet they don’t share the troubles you do.

It’s a savage mockery of a cash-on-hand ruling class that plays make believe with our “opportunities” I’m starting to feel as if they’ve made a fool of me.

They say that life is yours then they occupy your time, they push you for more hours and less pay as if it were sublime and at the end of the day the taxman takes some away, it seems like its all just savage mockery.

We ride the Ferris wheel of change and our ups are always followed by lows and we end where we started, both feet firmly planted on the ground and the fun is suddenly over.
We’re actors and clowns, we’re tightrope walkers and high flyers, dreamers, screamers and make-believers but it’s all an act, it’s a show and we dance for entertainment because once the pretty lights stop we are back on the road, tired, broke and always feeling used.

Exploited.

If only we could change, yet we just don’t know any other way.
This is the way we’ve been told the way that life is since birth and those lucky few who have managed to find a new sideshow to join have found they themselves must answer to the people above them.

It’s savage mockery and it always drips down, so abuse rolls down and we all fall victim to someone.

Many strange things in my time I have seen
What I see now may seem extreme
I sit in the garden by a small bungalow
They both stand together, a cat and a crow.
What I see is an unbelievable sight
The cat walks away, the crow takes flight
I return again the very next day
Together they stand in the very same way.
The cat is at peace and so is the crow
They are both too old, and very slow
The crow it stays in the same oak tree
And the cat can no longer run easily.
So within this garden they both now reside
Weak and feeble, yet still alive.
Maybe they've lost the will to ****
Or simply they both have had their fill.
But there is a lesson that is clear to see
If they can live in peace, so can we.

I knew a old dude from Du Preez
Who tried to **** over a tree
The tree was so high he ****** in his eye
And now the poor ******* can’t see.

I think the Moon knows
I'm watching Her
Because sometimes,
                           She leaves me presents
It may sound silly
But I've got a jar full of Her secrets
That I keep in a lockbox under my bed
The pass code; Luna
So I'll praise Her title
Each time I uncover
The hidden gifts She's given to me

Purified droplets of moonlight.

The size of a jewel
The weight of a diamond
The glow of an angel
The shine of a star

The Moon probably knows
I'm watching Her
Because sometimes,
                            I find a drop
In the bud of a flower
Sometimes,
                  in the pit of a well
Sometimes,
                  in the cave of an animal
Sometimes,
                  in the crack of a rock
Sometimes,
                  in the hollow of a tree
Sometimes,
                  in the current of a stream
And on the rarest of occasions
I'll find Her lodged between the pages
Of my notebook

I've collected a dreams worth of gems now
So whenever I find myself,
                                       Lost.
- Swallowed by the void -
I'll have enough moonlight in my jar
To ignite the darkest of days
And the presence
                             of Her presents
Will go unnoticed by no shadow
Or creature of the night.

Luna knows I'm watching Her.

I'll continue to gaze from below
And let no stone go unturned
So when the Moon drips again
I'll be there to catch Her
Another crystallized droplet of a blessing
To tuck away
In the box under my bed.

Most days I carry you
deep in the cradle of my mind,
or tightly wound up in my flesh.

You,
my preferred escape,
my perfect getaway,
my drug of choice.

Guilty for using you
without your consent.
-
but without your collusion,
this fantasy
won't subside.

you are bound to me
by the silky glue of love..
and one of these days
I will likely come undone
with just one brazen kiss
from your flawless lips.