Members
20/F
Shoot, I can write poetry, but not bios. If you want to know something about me, you can always just ask. Happy to befriend all. ...
Poems
harlon rivers
Oct 2017
Penned on watermarked cotton paper
Cursive letters script the words
of a surrendering rhythmic rhyme.
The ardent sonata was written
by the light of a Blue Moon’s shine.
The blood red ink bled through
the white wrinkled cotton pages;
musical notes dried by the warmth
of glowing Moon Beams radiance
in the subtle pollination breeze...
The maestro Coyote’s howl cried out!
Instinctively rousing the stillness of the night;
a feral essence echoed
through the eerie silence
of the distant horizon,
bringing helpless lovers to their knees.
The words to the Cabernet Sauvignon
stained midnight lullaby,
were emotions quilled,
blending an aura accenting
organic warmth of tones...
The native maple trees'
flowering canopies of Spring
released a dusty yellow pollen
onto the watermarked cotton sheets.
In a moment of rapturous intimacy,
an elixir of intoxicating bliss
illumined the achingly euphoric moments.
A natural untamed wildness was exhaled;
savored ecstasy released
into a passionate song of love …
That poignant melody forever lingers,
like hieroglyphics on the walls
of some long lost abandoned cave.
Engraved, etched, brushed and stroked
onto the brattice canvas
of a musical Minstrel’s
melodic montage ...
Watch the artiste’s fingers
prancing graceful ballet
Worn down catgut strings
*moan
weep
purr**
crying out lustfully.
as if it were
enraptured lovers'
breathless sighs
the rhythm’s cadence
whispers a masterpiece
in an infinite
harmonious time...
The tempo’s lines
Phrasing…
...hush...!
♪♫♪ ~ ♫ ♪♪
Listen to the pictures flow...
Listen to the weeping guitar strings
of the passionate troubadour
stroking the metaphorical canvas scene.
The ebb and flow
of the musical rhythm's throb
arouse the Blue Moon’s hypnotic allure,
throwing incandescent shadows
that dance around Moonbeams.
Joyfully twirling, blissfully embracing
in the blossoming Forget-me-not fields;
Bluebonnet Lupine
swirl and tango
with the moonlit breeze.
Lilacs fragrant aroma drifts
with spring’s churning romantic haze;
rekindling this fleeting memories recital.
The Minstrel and the Minstrel’s song
now yearn to be set free ~
Timbre without reverberation …
The twilight serenade was never penned
to be hidden from the Nightingale
A romantic moment’s sorrowful lament
to be abandoned like a broken dream;
fading unnoticed into forevermore ―
Unsung, unsaid, unreleased,
unrequited
through eternity…
The maestro Coyote
is a wilderness troubadour
illumined under the gloaming
full moon’s spell.
Howling soulfully...
wailing impulsively ~
... crying hopefully
pleading mournfully
lamenting
the Minstrel’s breathless cadenza ...
A bitter sweet musical embryo of love
found and lost
below
the full Blue Moon’s
glistening light…
© H. Rivers ... 2012, 2013
all rights reserved
Cursive letters script the words
of a surrendering rhythmic rhyme.
The ardent sonata was written
by the light of a Blue Moon’s shine.
The blood red ink bled through
the white wrinkled cotton pages;
musical notes dried by the warmth
of glowing Moon Beams radiance
in the subtle pollination breeze...
The maestro Coyote’s howl cried out!
Instinctively rousing the stillness of the night;
a feral essence echoed
through the eerie silence
of the distant horizon,
bringing helpless lovers to their knees.
The words to the Cabernet Sauvignon
stained midnight lullaby,
were emotions quilled,
blending an aura accenting
organic warmth of tones...
The native maple trees'
flowering canopies of Spring
released a dusty yellow pollen
onto the watermarked cotton sheets.
In a moment of rapturous intimacy,
an elixir of intoxicating bliss
illumined the achingly euphoric moments.
A natural untamed wildness was exhaled;
savored ecstasy released
into a passionate song of love …
That poignant melody forever lingers,
like hieroglyphics on the walls
of some long lost abandoned cave.
Engraved, etched, brushed and stroked
onto the brattice canvas
of a musical Minstrel’s
melodic montage ...
Watch the artiste’s fingers
prancing graceful ballet
Worn down catgut strings
*moan
weep
purr**
crying out lustfully.
as if it were
enraptured lovers'
breathless sighs
the rhythm’s cadence
whispers a masterpiece
in an infinite
harmonious time...
The tempo’s lines
Phrasing…
...hush...!
♪♫♪ ~ ♫ ♪♪
Listen to the pictures flow...
Listen to the weeping guitar strings
of the passionate troubadour
stroking the metaphorical canvas scene.
The ebb and flow
of the musical rhythm's throb
arouse the Blue Moon’s hypnotic allure,
throwing incandescent shadows
that dance around Moonbeams.
Joyfully twirling, blissfully embracing
in the blossoming Forget-me-not fields;
Bluebonnet Lupine
swirl and tango
with the moonlit breeze.
Lilacs fragrant aroma drifts
with spring’s churning romantic haze;
rekindling this fleeting memories recital.
The Minstrel and the Minstrel’s song
now yearn to be set free ~
Timbre without reverberation …
The twilight serenade was never penned
to be hidden from the Nightingale
A romantic moment’s sorrowful lament
to be abandoned like a broken dream;
fading unnoticed into forevermore ―
Unsung, unsaid, unreleased,
unrequited
through eternity…
The maestro Coyote
is a wilderness troubadour
illumined under the gloaming
full moon’s spell.
Howling soulfully...
wailing impulsively ~
... crying hopefully
pleading mournfully
lamenting
the Minstrel’s breathless cadenza ...
A bitter sweet musical embryo of love
found and lost
below
the full Blue Moon’s
glistening light…
© H. Rivers ... 2012, 2013
all rights reserved
Notes (optional)
"It's a marvelous night for a moon dance"
from the written pages of a hopeless romantic
Post Script:
An attempt to blow the dust off the hidden archives and the aging tomes to bring my unpublished writing portfolio back into the light.
A friend from my musical past ask me to publish this once again and LEAVE IT published...how could I say no to one who uplifts the low (?)!
"It's a marvelous night for a moon dance"
from the written pages of a hopeless romantic
Post Script:
An attempt to blow the dust off the hidden archives and the aging tomes to bring my unpublished writing portfolio back into the light.
A friend from my musical past ask me to publish this once again and LEAVE IT published...how could I say no to one who uplifts the low (?)!
brandon nagley
Jan 2016
i.
Every poet here, every poet here is a breathing soul,
Every poet here, O', every poet here, is a living whole.
Every poet here, every poet here is that fine grained gold;
O' every poet here, every poet here is an ancient mold.
ii.
Every prophet here, every prophet here prophecieth,
Every prophet here, speaketh love pain and fear;
We all liveth, and thus we dieth.
iii.
Every minstrel here, O' every minstrel here, hath shed tear's,
Every minstrel here, verily every minstrel here, ageth in year's;
Every minstrel here, O' every minstrel here hath felt anger,
Every minstrel here, verily every minstrel here, hath seen danger.
iv.
Every writer here, O' every writer here,
Shouldst put away, the hate, anger, and
Fear's, and conjoin into one, a poetic dream,
Coming apart at the string's, by hatred under
Ourn sun. As we only hath one life, to maketh
Purpose of a smile toward's another one.
Puttest away the poetic gun.
Every poet here, O' every poet-
Doth thou heareth?
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Every poet here, every poet here is a breathing soul,
Every poet here, O', every poet here, is a living whole.
Every poet here, every poet here is that fine grained gold;
O' every poet here, every poet here is an ancient mold.
ii.
Every prophet here, every prophet here prophecieth,
Every prophet here, speaketh love pain and fear;
We all liveth, and thus we dieth.
iii.
Every minstrel here, O' every minstrel here, hath shed tear's,
Every minstrel here, verily every minstrel here, ageth in year's;
Every minstrel here, O' every minstrel here hath felt anger,
Every minstrel here, verily every minstrel here, hath seen danger.
iv.
Every writer here, O' every writer here,
Shouldst put away, the hate, anger, and
Fear's, and conjoin into one, a poetic dream,
Coming apart at the string's, by hatred under
Ourn sun. As we only hath one life, to maketh
Purpose of a smile toward's another one.
Puttest away the poetic gun.
Every poet here, O' every poet-
Doth thou heareth?
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
This is just a reminder to all poets... To support one another... Love another. Cherish another despite views, ideologies, idea's.. Beliefs... Writing is the souls expression. A freedom of any one man or womans words... Not to be tainted by others... As this place has become one of hatred... Name calling. A place rather of clownishness, not poetry. A place of hatred. Not friendship... As noone not one single soul here. Should have to worry about being attacked by others who want to inflict misery, and fear. and hatred onto the web. Because it's easiest to hide behind the screen to attack others.. When in reality... They'd know better to not do it in person to the people they are attacking... So as poets.. We must ignore the hatred that is going on. as I've seen many poems on trolls lately. Hatred. People getting made fun of so on and bullied... The biggest gift to those who are doing this stuff we can give is to love them. Forgive them. Not talk bad behind their backs as they do us... And to show them ( what real love is) because in actuality... As case shows throughout history!!! True love always ALWAYS conquers over evil... As Ephesians 6:12 said.. In the bible I read. Yes glad to say I'm a Christian an improving one, as noone is a flawless being. It reads.
12For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.
And this is truth! Satan is very real. As are his demons. I know personally being attacked emotionally spiritually and more than that ( physically by them) with physical proof. They do exist. As this world shows an example of them working on people right now. Swaying many. But me. They will not sway. I will overcome the hatred and darkness that hates the light. One problem.. God is of light. And darkness cannot be the light of God... So as one not just because I believe in Christ and God. But as how I was made to be. One who knows not hate. And can't fathom ever hating anyone mineself personally! I choose love.. Forgiveness... And letting things be. And hoping the hatred stops and certain others may just find love, and overcome very real demons overcoming them... As we must overcome darkness with light..
Thanks for reading followers. And if ones talk behind your back or call you names. *** at you. Spew out hatred towards you. Our goal as human beings is forgiving and loving another... For we shall all be judged one day. And have no right judging others.. For when we ourselves aren't perfect beings... Though God wants his creation to love another. Now will you love all beings? And forgive?? Choice is your own...
Thanks for reading poets...
12For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.
And this is truth! Satan is very real. As are his demons. I know personally being attacked emotionally spiritually and more than that ( physically by them) with physical proof. They do exist. As this world shows an example of them working on people right now. Swaying many. But me. They will not sway. I will overcome the hatred and darkness that hates the light. One problem.. God is of light. And darkness cannot be the light of God... So as one not just because I believe in Christ and God. But as how I was made to be. One who knows not hate. And can't fathom ever hating anyone mineself personally! I choose love.. Forgiveness... And letting things be. And hoping the hatred stops and certain others may just find love, and overcome very real demons overcoming them... As we must overcome darkness with light..
Thanks for reading followers. And if ones talk behind your back or call you names. *** at you. Spew out hatred towards you. Our goal as human beings is forgiving and loving another... For we shall all be judged one day. And have no right judging others.. For when we ourselves aren't perfect beings... Though God wants his creation to love another. Now will you love all beings? And forgive?? Choice is your own...
Thanks for reading poets...