When fishing, sometimes it's not what you catch, but what one releases while there that makes the trip worthwhile...

...a diary of the falling dominoes chapter

invisibly dying from the inside out
no one is looking into unseen eyes
no one can hear a muted voice fading
no one is close enough to be near

the deafening thrums echo
anxieties’ racing heartbeat
within morphing flesh shell ,
gasping for new breath
in a hovering stale silence

from a distance
the broken mirror ricochets a subdued light ;
much closer the reflection reveals
someone I once knew by heart

now an unrecognizable mask
enshrouds a terminal emptiness
inconspicuous at a fleeting glance ,
impossible to discern what storms rage
from the inside out ,... unnoticed  

an uncontained wildfire
smoldering within,  lies in wait
for the imminent winds of change
to fan the flames into the final
eternal silent ashes

a poet reaches out demurely
offering a candid look
into the window
of the imperfect human soul

there is no poetry
met by indifference
just gathered unread words scribbled,

squandered time
dripped slowly on an empty page ;
moments turn into days
days turned into years

invisibly dying from the inside out
an unfinished life trickles out
like seeping blood evanescing
from a bottomless puncture
wounding ... penetrating the heart,
leaching out the slow death of a poet

for poetry is only words unless they touch someone ...

befallen to indifference is poetic death
by salted paper cuts ...

a muting suffocation
that hiddenly erodes away,
silencing the passion
of a musing soul
one unread word at a time ...


© harlon rivers ... all rights reserved

She loves to be a family...
Her heart longs for it.
But fate doesn't allow her.
She had both mom and dad.
But they threw her away.
Bcoz she is a GIRL.
Tears fill her eyes as
She think of her parents.
She tried to end her life.
But the word 'Amma' stopped her.
Her heart beats for 'Amma'.
She breathes in for Amma's scent.
She yearns for Amma's touch.
But all her searches ends in darkness.
You are the reason for
She is being an orphan.
Why don't you take her home?
Why don't you give her
love,affection,food and shelter?

The old man sat on a boulder,
overlooking the river of words.
The great stream that flows
into the lake of lyrics and
on to the ocean of verse.

Looking out beyond the river
he could see his beloved garden.
The garden that had given him
inspiration to create the pictures
he painted with the river's  words.

As he looked out he saw
the bees among the flowers.
He watched the birds eat fruit
that grew abundantly on the trees
and gave shade to all the animals.

His gaze came back to the river.
He saw a girl child knitting melodies
from the words of the river.
Though many see the river of words
it is she to whom he gave the secret
of the source of the river.

For it is she who has the power
to weave the words into magic.
It is she who will pass the secret
to her children through the ages.
The old man smiles down upon her,
she is the child of the Ancient Poet.

© 19/12/2009

The moon is now bright and full
showering silver romance,
to the leaves of tree so dull.

A cricket humming his chants
deep in meditation behind
the dark unknown shrub's branch.

Somewhere in a nest, a hatchling can't sleep
letting out feeble hunger cries
her mother did not fetch enough to feed.

While on my walk, I see those eyes
hiding behind a trunk, peeping
I assure it safety, I know may be lying

Night is the time for them to be,
struggling to enjoy independence and security
this unending night leading them to the unknown
what will remain I wonder at the crack of dawn.