Lilly 1d

One sleepless night I heard the lark
Chir-chirruping inside my heart;
Got up to find her in the dark
To capture her and set apart
Her stringless resonating harp
On which she played a note so sharp;
My very soul said: "Hark, oh, hark!
What is this iridescent spark

That set my every thought aflame?
For in its sound I heard my name!
That made my ear and eye so changed
That all the world illuminates?
It will not let me sleep again
Until my every breath is spent!"

I looked and looked and looked in vain
But carried with me the refrain
So every time I turned around
The sound was coming from without;
At lenght I closed my tired lids
And heard the lark sing from within;
And this is how I figured out:
I'm not the kindling. I'm the spark!

You're broken
But you need to focus
Pick up the pieces and put them together
If you would just ever
Stop and look at what you've accomplished
You'd be astonished
And maybe If I told you
you're not realizing
That I wanna be you
it might come as surprising
Because what I'm actually saying
is I think you're naturally amazing

august 2d

i am not fragile
i am a refined weapon
i will own fear
and it will fear me
i am no longer afraid
i am a revolution
painted sliver and gold

You

You make me powerful,
Restless and simple
About things that really matter
A woman full of schemes
Looking for the correct line
Swinging among the planets

You make me feel eternal
Between dreams and the full life
With caresses that sometimes burn

You make me unreachable
In your arms
For another person

You love Me,
You watch me,
You inspire me,
You make me fall in love.

My Book #2

When success is present through fortune,
It’s easy for us to ease the fighting.

Battling less while glory is achieved,
Maintaining greatness after a long war.

Misery is usually in a brutal dispute,
Shedding blood and tears for progress.

Anguish is trying to win,
Attempting to earn that chance.

Whenever goals are acquired,
Never forgot the road that was traveled.

In the moment of present day bliss,
We wonder if the next day will still offer wealth,
Hoping that tomorrow can still possess gold.

The journey to good fortune is an unpredictable path,
Like rolling dice in a game of chance.

The future holds no guarantees,
Leaving tomorrow a mystified puzzle.

Forget about the mystery of the unknown,
Instead, move with the currents of the ocean,
Continuing in stride with each flow.

Everyone attempts to put a price on everything.
From jobs, to going on vacation.
Fluctuating gas prices, the necessities we can't live without. The cost of everything is going up.
There really isn't too much that people haven't put a stature to the almighty dollar which constantly diminishes everyday.
We barely have enough time as it is without hustling trying to make time for the things that we truly care about and seem to neglect, having to constantly look at the clock.
It robs us of the sincerity that follows.
A genuine smile that is very courteous but is also rushed at the same time.
Somehow we've come to the idea that we need a certain amount of money to truly enjoy ourselves.
Big businesses know this very well.
They expect us to cling on to the vast images that we see flashed in front of us in subliminal advertisement.
Via television, social media, or word of mouth without realizing that too much time has already passed.
About the only thing we truly take for granted are the moments that we finally remember to breathe and cherish the very same moments we remember to smile.
Forgetting who we are in the process of trying to make ends meet while maintaining the perception if it's ever enough.
If at all possible, today I want you to press pause on the things that make you smile
And live in that moment for as long as possible.
As it doesn't cost a thing to smile, it doesn't cost a thing to greet someone with a genuine embrace.
It doesn't cost a thing to sit back and breathe for a second or two.
Set a limit to how much you give of yourself.
Because those whom take, will only continue to take

Cné 6d

He soars high, floating in her wake
Inhaling every detail of her flowing grace
Her brushes of touch, causing him to shake
Delicate weaving hearts of leather and lace

Inspiration sails high, with her drifting in his mind
Ripples from deep emotions, she elegantly paints
Closing his eyes, entrusting her, flying blind
Together, one with the other, interlinking chains

Flickering fates of fireflies under stars aligned
Precious moments in time, worlds collide
A rendezvous in the Milky Way, by design
Consummating souls kiss passionately, ignite

to be ...
da Vinci's "Mona Lisa"
Vermeer's "Girl with the Pearl Earring"
or "The Girl from Ipanema"
only in my dreams ...

What about a moment ―
that comes like a shooting star ?
        or love that flitters away
        though we reach out to hold
a flickering flame     ―     a candle in wisp of wind
                     all of a sudden lost
                 all at once a heart alone

…all life’s bits and pieces manifest a graspable trace,
random seconds clinched
        like giving grains of sand
        a raindrop’s passing splash
footprints in the sand  ―  whispering
       ― unsaid silent goodbyes

  Is this only a fleeting present moment ,
measureless nebulous time etched ?
        visible living snippets
        traced and shaped,
enveloping without pretense

benign mind-made silk threads
cocooning shapeless timelines
        an entwining tapestry
        of dreams dreamt ― then evanesce  :

Ripe huckleberry stained lips and blue skies kissed ―
                      a day at the beach
                      dancing with  the wind ―
                      pretending to fly lightly
                      as barefoot feathers glide ―
violets nestled in deep moss  
the fragrance after a cleansing rain

                      the only love I ever found ...  

How long is a concsious moment ?
Untenable thoughts fall short
        impalpable Days turn into Weeks
        unholdable Weeks turn into Months
        unsustainable Months into indefinable Years
intangible gathered moments                                    
anthologies of lifetime memories
chronological life in momentary pieces ;

written murmurs ― sighs too deep for words
soul jewels embraced temporarily
        life portions seized to so sweetly behold
        if only for an instant longer
knowing a moment’s touch is brief
unstoppable breathing unfoldment
unseizable transient continuum

       A moment's always passing ... 
time cleaves old rivers' bottomless course
purling river bottoms erode deeper and wider everyday,
        their rippling murmurs
        ride the wind songs evanescent echoes
earth’s specks and raindrops converging
        to drown silently unto vast oceans 
        unfathomable depths ―

A moment soon forgotten, whisperers left unspoken
gathered time ticks away ― elapsing twinkles
        taken far beyond a flicker of paradise lost              
        as if a moment never passes bye and bye
as if only ebbing tides steal away what's passed

― What about a moment ―
  how long did the moment last
        a sprouted seed
        a swaddled baby born
        a roller-coaster ride
        a blink of an eye
        breath cease to exist
        a lifetime come and gone

― a moment is the life you live ―
        

               harlon rivers
       was here ... April 19, 2017


                                            ― The End ―

© harlon rivers … all rights reserved

epilogue :
Sally A Bayan, my friend engagingly asks in a comment on:
March 11, 2017 ― How long is a moment? ... sorry it took so long to answer

..."Yes....after reading your thoughts, I now ask these questions....how long is a moment? how do you grasp a flitting moment? How do you grasp a flitting soul, or love?"

So.... Sally, this is for you friend... you have been an inspiration to all blessed to read your muse and feel the love you so poetically bequeath.
Touching deeply without judgment with gentle hand of most kindred of blessed souls ―

Rhetorical questions unanswerable or naught, as sure as the miracle of birth , one day we'll all come to understand how long a moment lasts...

peace,
a friend
Sandoval 6d

That's what writing does to you. It eats

your free time, and your soul it swallows

it whole, so that you don't get hurt

by flesh it breaks your bones with inspiration.

And, the feeling while I'm writing is this ecstasy

that controls my senses. I was meant for this,

ink tainted fingers, blank pages and this loneliness.

Sandoval

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