People pitty my lack of rest
But they know why i  don't even wink.
What if you came to find me,
And passed me by just cuz i blinked?

Little nightingale,
wings of white and gold.
Little nightingale,
singing gay and bold.
Fly away, far from your iron cage.
Fly away, up in the North sky.
One day you will come back,
singing your last requiem to me,
For I shall be there to hear no more.
   You are very brave,
   and you are very free,
So do not fall into sorrow,
do not fall into eternal repose.
But until then...
  - Sing, oh sing,
My sweetest nightingale
high above my broken baroque grave

Life is right-handed
Just a little bit different
Just slightly inoptimal for you
Or perhaps you are inoptimal for life.

You live with your left hand outstretched
But recieve with only your right.
And the world was made ever so slightly
Without you in mind.

Belonging is overrated
Unless, of course, you already belong.
But you've never quite fit in a square box
You're slanted, just a bit.

Perfection is impossible
For all those who haven't acheived it, at least.
You've never been a failure, just
You've never really fit.

Life is right-handed and you
You are not.
You are not a victim, not marginalized
You are not excluded or left behind.

But you are left-handed
And Life is not
And the world was made ever so slightly
Without you in mind.

Richard Riddle:  12-07-1941 - Born with bombs "bursting in air, and on the ground" (literally), and I'm still around, irritating people . Well, a person has to do what they do best, don't they.
There will be no gala events, black-tie parties, proclamations issued, or "Keys to the City" awarded, etc. I will be with my son, daughter-in-law, two grandchildren, my cat "Brie", and a special person for whom I am so thankful to have come into my life at the right time. They are gifts that are given to me 365 days a year.
I am thankful for the friends I have at work, and for those who have stayed beside me over the years. I am also thankful for those who have since passed into another dimension, but whom I remember with great fondness.

"Thank you, everyone!!"
richard riddle

Thank you Eliot York for creating this magnificent site. It has been a "blessing" for me in many, many ways!

Reposted for  Sally, Sandy, and Stephanie. Three important ladies in my life.

Where is that inner child,
why did it depart-
And take with it the stories,
That were close unto your heart

From Mother Goose to Tennyson's
"Idyll's of the King",
folklore and fairy tales-
Of which the minstrels sing

Knights in shining armor,                  
atop their steeds of grace-
Protecting king and country
as they ride from place to place

There’s Jack and his stalk of beans,
“Lil Red and her hood-
Hansel, and his sister-
traips'n thru the wood

Rainbows and leprechauns,
elusive pots ‘o’ gold,
Oh, how many, many times have these
tales been told-

Fairies ‘neath the mushroom caps,
elves in their acorn hats,
Dancing 'neath the moon-ring light-
as fireflies flicker, to the “music
of the night”

And from the heavens, a horse appears-
adorned with wings of flight-
And from its head, a single horn-
the pure, and blessed, unicorn.

The minstrels, with their lutes and lyres-
amused the population-
But, could it be, these tales be true,
or just your imagination?

That inner child, it's still there
It hasn’t gone away-
It just needs to be awakened-
on perhaps, this very day*.


r.riddle December 18, 2010-Copyright

Let not the wind sweep you away,
let not the trappings of this world
keep you down,
let not the totality of it all
fall upon your shoulders,
and especially do not pin yourself
into negative cycles.

The leaves of seasons past will fall
and surround you completely,
the ice will freeze and melt
onto your numb fingers,
and the sun will rage onto your
skin to blister.

But among it all in the final grace,
you must remember:
you were born to fly,
so spread your wings.

A dog's life

On the dog the blazing sun pours
but closed are all the doors

hungry and thirsty and mad in heat
the asphalt burns his feet

Isn't there a kind heart
to see and feel his pain

to play God's part
as His will ordained?

Life without a roof

His bed is the pavement
roof the firmament

famished and sick
his pillow is a brick

people pass without a stare
if you're fine all else is fair

their sight is a shame
disreputes the city's fame

Where is God?

Full is His misery's cup
all muddled up
He has no clue

why nothing went fine
with his divine design
what to do!

Is all lost?*

Two gifts you still can feel
in your mind live their trace

to use them if you truly will
love and kindness*.