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Richard Riddle Jan 2017
"Life in a Cubicle" (formerly "Untitled"revised 10-8-2013)

I feel the darkness-
the profundity of it's power
enwraps my soul-
Yet, I can see-
I touch the dark.......

Silhouetted against the aura of human faith-
it surrounds me-
A myriad of words floats within the cubicle
that holds my sorrow--
And the darkness grows darker......

The darkness, giving birth to the voices-
in the distance..... afraid........ sensing fright-
But only God knows for sure*-


copyright r.riddle October 08, 2013
Richard Riddle Jan 2017
It was September, 1967, when the young coed from Texas Tech University entered the television studio at KCBD TV, Channel 11 in Lubock, Texas. Blonde hair with a reddish tint, "Strawberry Blonde", the stylists call it, accompanied by sparkling blue eyes and and a diminutive smile that accented her personality.
She was there looking to find a part-time job. That summer she had worked as an intern in the promotion department at a television station in Dallas, and was  majoring in journalism at the university. A mutual friend with whom she worked in Dallas, had put her in touch with me. I worked as an 'on air' director, and was getting the studio reset for the six o'clock news following a commercial taping session. Although the station had no job openings at the time, a series of events began to take shape.
That chance meeting changed my life, and I recall it as if it happened yesterday. I was twenty five, she, twenty. Two months later, In November, 1967, we married. Forty years and two months later, following cancer surgery, Karen passed away, but not until giving us a fantastic son, wonderful daughter-in-law, and now, two grandchildren, who have redefined the phrase,"growing like weeds."
The holiday period has always been a time for reflections, some good, some 'not so good.' Can't be helped, human nature. But, as the sages say, "Life goes on", and it has been good to me in many ways.

"Thank you, Lord, for helping me along the way."

r.riddle: January 01, 2017
Richard Riddle Dec 2016
a repost*

When reading the obituaries in the newspaper, and seeing the name of a person whom I had known for a long time, with whom I went to high school , did business, worked beside, etc. I say to myself, "I just moved up a rung on the ladder." I just hope it's a very tall ladder!

copyright: richard riddle-June 17, 2015
  Dec 2016 Richard Riddle
Sally A Bayan
On days, when time is going too fast,
I can't catch up, and there're things i can't get past,
I'd pull a chair at the verandah....just sit there
To witness, the gentler goings on in life...
See, how...why  all plants face towards the sun,
On a dimly lit corner, watch a spider patiently spin its web,
Underneath the gravel and green grass, somehow,
The earthworm, painstakingly, bravely emerges,
Finds its way out of the remind us,
"...soil is's time to plant!"
I feel, the beetle knows me, as it inches on,
Carrying its own body, crawling down the pine tree,
I won't ever grasp it, nor tie a string on its body
To control its range of movement,
As we do to tethered beasts of burden...
While sitting there, i decide: by all means,
Towards the flower ***, i  lean
Take time to smell a rose, feel its rough leaf
Not just a quick touch and sniff
But hold its thorny body, without daring to blink
While deep within, i'd let its fragrance sink
Some early evenings
When the cicadas' music are echoing
And the moths have started flying
Circling round the light at the ceiling,
I am warned...soon, it will be raining
And.....when it starts to rain, i keep listening
Til i'm soothed by the sound of rain...falling,
From sky to treetops.....flowing...landing
Next to the leaves......cascading down
To the concrete ground
Spreading quickly, far and deep...and as fate,
As nature would have it....the soil, without fail, waits...
Long time ago, we were small,
Curious and brave, we tasted glory, and all,
Armed with a child's innocence
And an insatiable hunger for learning...
Our eyes, our minds dilated,
Our brains were like sponge...
Like the soil.....we absorbed
All, that we discovered...


Copyright December 1, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
(Once in a while, we can be a child....right?)
Richard Riddle Dec 2016
from August, 2016

A clear, crystal orb-
rests alone,
In the center of the table..

She 'chants', this Gypsy woman,
as her gnarled hands
caressing its silk-smooth surface..

A mist forms
within the glass,
a cloud... that holds the future...
and the past

An image begins to materialize
and there, before my very eyes
Sits a man.......
contentment on his face.............

He is asleep... an arm....
folded across his chest-
And on his hand, a simple ring-
with a cross etched on its crest

"My father?"

"Closer", I look-
as the mist recedes-
'Tis' not my father!".....

For 'he' "me!"*

r riddle 08-14-2016

Traveling Carnivals most always have a gypsy fortune teller, especially those that travel the circuits of small towns and rural communities.
Richard Riddle Dec 2016
reposted for my granddaughter, Emily Riddle, in memory of my wife, Karen Riddle.*

I just couldn't do without
my grandma's heart necklace -
It was a gift to me, although
she passed away when I was little.

It also holds all of my mad,
sad, and happy memories,
just like it is a part of me.
I wear it on very special occasions,
since it is so unique.

When I wear it close to my heart-
it makes me feel special.
That's why I would always
feel happy, or at least, a little joyful,
when I hold it to my chest-
to pretend my grandma is
still alive.

She was very important to me-
We did so much together,
and I miss her,
and the special times we shared.

I can feel her with me
when I wear it, or hold it,
close to me.

Without this prized possession,
all of my feelings
would be lost,
with my grandma, in the sky.

My heart necklace
means the world to me,
and I wouldn't change
anything about it.

People say
"jewelry is made
to look beautiful."

Well, I say,
It was made to be a
"Memory Holder!!"

copyright-Emily Riddle- October 15, 2013

My granddaughter Emily, wrote this essay as a class assignment for her 3rd Grade class. Originally in full page, essay form, I divided it into stanzas, and added some punctuation. Although there are some misspellings(two), I chose not to correct them, but to leave the content as it was written, in order to preserve the sincerity, and the innocence, with which it was written. Thank you, so much, Emily Riddle. (She is about to turn 13.) Love you, so much!!
Richard Riddle Dec 2016
It was an era in which we needed ......."heroes!" Those years preceding, during, and after WW II. The movie going public clamored for them.....and we got them! Those "cliffhanger" movie serials! 12 to 16 episodes, each averaging 12 to 15 minutes in length.Masked crusaders battling foreign agents....or..............the "mad scientist" who, in his laboratory, developed a contraption to melt mountains enabling him to rule the world....or just a crusader to protect the public from any villain bent to disrupt society as we knew it.
The science fiction heroes, Superman, Captain Marvel, Flash Gordon . Buck Rogers, "King" of the Rocketmen(there was only 'one) and  countless others.
All doomed to die, in some fashion, at the end of each episode, whether it being surrounded by villains, or in  a vehicle last seen rolling off the edge of a cliff with our hero trapped inside, unconscious and........ we thought. And we returned, each week, to see how such a fate was averted. And, we loved them.
They enriched our pride, putting our country"first",  proving that "good..........conquered evil. We felt good about ourselves and.......

We still.........................can.......'united'

(Where are you when we need you!)

r.riddle: 12-11-2016
Originally titled "AfterWW II", I changed it to "Cliffhangers." They began in the mid 1930's, although there were some in the "silent" movie years.
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