#prologue
hold the rope tight, never let go of a safe hand
the journey ahead is far too brutal to make sense
what once seemed fated, shall shatter one's hopes
the idea of love was born from a poet's thought
lover's rose from the ashes to finish their lovelorn stories
heart wrapped in barbed wire yet still beating-
for the one who will break my heart
uncover new truths in each arc
May 1, 2025
May 1, 2025 at 3:32 AM UTC
My nights have never been so fragile
until my words traces my heart
and tears filled up its meaning—
this is how a little shipwreck
can sink me.
I hope you know
how much I wanted to tell you
how beautiful the stars
as you are.
How I attach you on every story I know about the sea
and how much light you fill in me, I couldn't bear to lose it.
My words will always find you
and will lingers in me;
you have always been a part of it.
Aug 7, 2021
Aug 7, 2021 at 11:33 AM UTC
Jemariku menari di atas aksara.
Kemari sayang,
nanti malam aku akan ceritakan pertarungan antara Putri Cina dengan Amir Hamzah,
dan Pangeran Bulan yang tak pernah datang.
Tragedi Sampek yang menjelma kupu-kupu disusul kekasihnya.
memilih abadi dalam dunia baka,
ketimbang hidup 100 tahun bersama lara.
aku akan tutup dongeng malam dengan kisah kita yang abadi dalam dimensi khayal.
"Selamat malam."
May 9, 2019
May 9, 2019 at 2:58 AM UTC
Understand and know me
not just by reading
the summary and the prologue.
Read all the chapters
until the last period
where I bared my heart.
Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 11:02 AM UTC
Oh Summer Tree, oh Summer Tree
So many things you get to see
Oh Summer Tree, how big are thee
I wonder what you can tell me...
*"thєrє íѕ ѕσmєthíng thαt í mαч hαvє
α ѕtσrч ѕєttlєd ín mч crσwn
mαч thч ѕσul вє quєnchєd wíth thíѕ tαlє
ít'ѕ quítє thє ѕtσrч ѕσ prσfσund"*:
_**There used to be a boy quite sharp
He lived inside a place like hell
However, he'd not fall apart
That's something everyone could tell
Another boy afar away
Who lived inside a darkened land
He almost gave his life away
But light from kin had used their hand
The boy of hell was well quite known
A pretty one of rumors told
No one knew what he was in for
You would think someone's soul was sold
The darkened boy with eggshell skin
He lost all but his saddened mom
She melancholy from her grief
He was the one who reached the calm
The boy of hell had hellish kin
One from drug kings, one from fight queens
He saw it all when mother worked
Under the ground in ****** scenes
The mom of dark hated her son
The one who got to live a life
She left him for the streets and drugs
Still there, yet somehow out of sight
Hell boy did hate his upbringing
He did not want to be like them
For school was his way to winning
No way he could live in that realm
This is where dark boy had lost it
And this is when he tried to fade
Light’s hand gave him a wake-up call
Granny, from the states hell boy stays
Hell boy conquered a tough challenge
Till one of fire ignited
His mom and he was asked to leave
Dad’s greed came from what he sighted**_
...
*"lєt mє tєll чσu thíѕ hєrє ríght nσw
чσu knσw thє ѕtσrч єndѕ nσt hєrє
thє tαlєѕ tσσ lσng, wє muѕt dívídє
wє ѕhσuld ѕkíp tσ nєw pαrtѕ tσ tєll"*...
Oh Summer Tree, oh Summer Tree,
Can you go on, please keep telling,
I want more, yes, your stories sear,
I wonder how did they get here,
We will move on, not here but there,
Part 1 will come when coasts are clear.
Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 10:26 PM UTC
"From every wound there is a scar, and every scar tells a story.
A story says, I survived." - Fr. Craig Scott
**... a tribute to a fallen brother ― R.I.P Les
... you were with me every step of the way to the top**
crampon cleats tickle her bedrock
far below the frosty powder dusting;
released from where her majestic peak
parted yester night’s obstinate clouds.
the alpine atmosphere
first chilled and then plummeted
as the starlight glistened;
illuminated ice crystals sparkle
like diamonds in the rough.
I am overwhelmed
by the peaceful aura
surrounding me.
watching how
"these"
footprints
mark the snow
...arousing
a lucid,
stirring awareness
of my existence;
...inciting
a conscious moment,
extraordinarily deepening
the realization of being.
harlon rivers ... May 24th, 2013
May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 10:18 AM UTC
#***" Don't walk behind me; I may not lead.
Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow.
Just walk beside me and be my friend." - Albert Camus***
~ ~ ~
The telegraph road circled through the foothills,
rising towards the majestic mountain high
It’s been a long and twisting passage soon forgotten,
with the pavement abruptly dead ending,
just below the timberline
The dawning blue heavens look so much closer now
Just a step away from standing within reach
The birds uplifted on the telegraph wire rest atop me;
perched on the final material traces
disregarded by a digital world
My awakening soul is ascending beyond
the distant alpine meadow horizon
At the threshold of an untrodden wilderness wonderland,
climbing up above the meandering clouds
It’s exhilarating to look back and know
there is no turning back around;
I’ve never been higher
and can never get back down
What unknown frontier lies in wait before me now?
Just on the other side of the impossible dream?
The last step forward to find the next step beyond the bounds
There is not that much that changes,
when we just repeat the same old song
The atmosphere’s thin air leaves me gasping for wings
Like dust and ashes free to soar with the tempest breeze
If only time would sever these loathsome ties that bind
The ones that enchain the weight of this load unto me
While understanding the pace to a long journey’s rhythm
The only barometer you have to trust is in your heart
Adaptation is at the core of freedom's survival
But it feels almost like running away
I have felt the fear of falling with nothing left to lose
I’ve climbed as far as flesh and bones can reach
I've come this far always feeling subtly afraid
It has been a great distance back from the beginning;
knowing I must take these last steps alone.
Understanding it was love that brought me here
Naturally tugs at the spirit in my soul encouraging me on
I'll keep searching for the shining light of guidance
Listening for a voice that softly beckons me home...
written by: harlon rivers ... May 24th, 2013
May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 10:18 AM UTC
Everyone has a story, a reasoning behind
Their actions, their words, their thoughts.
They have a prologue, which sets the scene,
That reveals important things if you bother to read it.
Their first chapters are important,
Telling you the basic things about
Their personality and sense of self.
Most people read these chapters,
But the further you get in someone else’s story,
More people lose interest, willing to keep the story,
To put the book on the shelf, but then
They forget about it. Or they just don’t care.
The last chapters, which bring us to
The point that the person is in their life right now,
Are the ones that are the least read,
Except by those who are closest to them.
If you truly care about someone, you will
Read their story from beginning to end,
Word for word, line for line.
Yet there is danger in knowing a person’s story.
Whilst reading someone’s story, you could
Fall in love, like a soft breeze on a warm day that
You hardly notice, but when you stop and
Think about it, was there all along,
And you should never have taken it for granted.
When that happens, embark on a new adventure,
Creating a new story with them,
Starting with the prologue and not ending until you
Type the final letter.
Because no one likes an unfinished story.
Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 10:10 AM UTC
turned 25 and thought
gotta go back,
high-time for home
(home-time for High)
took the bus, route 31
to the
moral-less high-ground
(text my sister)
"no ID, aware, i'm going"
look up. and
here we are again, big city
New City
south-side, home despots
licking baby bottle pop
soda-can sidewalks
little brown brother
drinking Fanta with friends
smoking hot-pot
at Chang's
like apostolic gang
(gang gang)
Apr 3, 2018
Apr 3, 2018 at 7:02 PM UTC
To Kiss a Picture of You in Mind
To Have a Dialogue Turns Into Monologue
It is All in My Prologue Scenery
Before Bedtime
The Epilogue Says
"Distance, my Dear....."
Mar 26, 2018
Mar 26, 2018 at 12:30 PM UTC
Lights sputter,
Ringing in your ears,
Held tight in hope's embrace.
Tears pour,
Muffled screaming,
Everything you knew is gone.
Ground is shaking,
Dust in your fingernails,
Blood on your arms,
Curled up, you pray this isn't real.
A bright flash.
Silence.
Nothing.
What happened?
~Robert van Lingen
------------
A poetic prologue to One Year,
a short novel by Robert van Lingen
Mar 12, 2018
Mar 12, 2018 at 11:11 AM UTC
Stepping through
come along
with the light
spring paintings.
Time slips by
framed
with the vivid
saturated films.
The void you left
was filled
with the best
sad stories.
Your being
Is art.
Dec 13, 2017
Dec 13, 2017 at 9:07 AM UTC
To those of you who know me,
You know me not at all.
To those of you who don't:
These are my beacons in the fog.
These words have been my anchor.
They've been there to break my falls.
I've illustrated my escapes
From within these empty walls.
On these pages are the prices
That I've paid for life's surprises.
I've laid waste to pens revising,
Re-copying, refining.
Not all of it is exciting,
Nor sad, or uninviting,
But I gain pleasure from these words,
And from the simple act of writing.
And so for this I'm pleading,
And maybe even needing:
Take pleasure from these words,
And the simple act of reading.
Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 11:31 PM UTC
This is a very shortened version of the book introduction (my first oh geez) that I am working on. It's a concept collection based on the moments and people in our life that we often forget or overlook, though these moments create large impact on ourselves as people. We often find ourselves passing hundreds of people who's lives we will never touch. The strangers that allow us in for a short period of time are the people that touch our lives in unimaginable ways.
Do you remember the stranger who you fell in love with on the plane? How your entire life was built in seconds, painted with only the colors in the eyes of a beautiful stranger?
Do you remember the man on the plane that told you everything and listened while your dreams unfurled, so far away from the world that you truly believed in them?
I have always found memory funny. I find the faces of people in the bottoms of bottles or the bass line of an old song. We often forget that their are people who we love so temporarily that we only see flashes of them when our lives are the most human. When we are sitting in a nostalgic playground, or we lay in the dark, believing we can stare at the stars forever.
We are often wrapped up in the idea of someone loving us eternally. Humans are obsessed with the idea of people holding us for the rest of our lives because it is scary to think somebody cannot contain our chaos for more than several minutes. People often overlook the instances in life that are filled with emotion from a stranger.
Our lives are collections.
Collections of so many words that we’ve forgotten and people who’s faces we can’t recall anymore because we’ve only known them briefly. We are all just instances that have led to the person you are today. I hope you have remembered all of the wonderful strangers that have created you. If you don’t, write them down. Keep a collection of the people that you have loved with your all in just a simple moment. Write out your memories and hold them dearly.
These are my strangers.
Maybe it was you. Maybe, to you, I was them. Here’s to you, here's to us, here’s to all the strangers I have ever loved.
Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 11:18 PM UTC
A Cornish sunrise
is spoiled by bleating tourists;
I enjoy the sunrise
with all but my eyes.
As sure as God is sifting out the chaff
and with mathematical certainty...
my listlessness is becoming an issue.
A fist is shaking at me again,
but I’ve stopped looking at faces.
I reach for a book, not to read,
but to straighten my posture,
by opening it in my lap.
I hear sailing boats
always, living here, the constant
boom swing and rattling of cheaply
made metal clips and whipping ropes.
I hear the negligence of novice sailors
and their secret wishes to accidentally
lose their family on the rocks.
I hear the sound of life jackets
hanging on their pegs whilst
skinny kids think that
the sea is just a big blue
bouncy castle.
I have observed how things
can go very wrong;
I was a lifeguard and then coast
guard working for the RNLI.
Now I try and enjoy the sunrise each
morning but the noisiest of tourists are
walking around in groups of
foghorn and sheep’s wool
and warning us of nothing
— so loudly.
They’ve closed the lighthouse
and the docks, ship don’t
come here anymore.
Just these novice sailors
who, with unerring instinct,
sink for the weight of their
masculinity
or lose a crew member
or be pinched painfully by a crab.
Their kids ask: How do boats float?
They ask that as their life jackets
swing on the peg
— the seas are not calm today.
Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 11:21 PM UTC
*When the darkness befall from the sky
And the world drowns into despair
On the beginning of a new era
An angel shall come forth
The wings of light and dark spread afar
The way he would choose
Shall be the will of heavens*
Apr 23, 2016
Apr 23, 2016 at 10:31 AM UTC
You were like
the first word in a poem
The first note in a symphony
the first beam of sunlight
in the morning
and the first star
in the night sky
I loved you more than
the moon loves the sun
the ocean loves the shore
my lungs love the air I breathe
but what if we were
the dark before a dawn
the rain before a rainbow
the calm before the crash
what if all we were was prologue
Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 8:49 PM UTC
Eight months limp in a guilty repose,
Waking with no intent.
Clouds eclipse the routine rooms,
Societies dynamic continues
directionless I spin dizzily within it,
Cycle on high.
my eyes hold their listless weight.
But here ends the night, intermittent,
Cease the unconscious days!
Sun soon glazes the archaic temples,
February becomes July.
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 9:03 PM UTC
We are all here
The values and morals we’ve all held dear are now gone
Now look!
Can you think of your next move?
Has the migration begun without you?
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 1:05 PM UTC