#richie
the waters of the Sound, churning,
make my hands a five-in-hand knotted,
full of writhing wriggling writing poem
lines with an go<hesitant~go slow, knowing that,inspiration is daring me, just as the whitecaps are, troubled trolling so nearby,
gone can hear them mocking me with their
17knot ‘breeze,’ your lyrics are but
blowing in the wind, soon enough will
shift to someone else, leavening your
deflation with a non~riser sour-dough mix
of unfinished sadness
in advance, knowings that every poem
more like a Monarch butterfly, here but
for a momentary traversal travesty,
gone faster than the eye blink, and this
infilling fleeing fleet urgency more
likely to die on the pyre of unfinished
rejected draftees, unselected for service
nonetheless ~ “follow” lyrics refuse me
to let~leave a poor tribute to vine~die, the
fingers speak in unison, urging me on,
not wanting to escape from this fantasizing
moment, urging me to tap tap tap
evermore!
“ Come taste and smell the waters of our time,”
Richie invites us all to find our own water,
let it work its magic upon our
nerve endings, but,
mine full of sendings, how?
can one sit seated in the Poet’s Nook,
same vista, no visa required ~
just to see it each time
differently, only the truly creative can love it
so much, that they tip into unexplored unexploited
veins of fresh blood and words
and eyes that discern and earn the ability
to write of the old with new inside insights
those! they are the ones you need to follow!
creators! with a small C, see them feel, see them divine with rod, their original water,
from which they emerged, and drink once more, for the water follows them like nutrients, raw materials that nourishes
and they in turn, return to their watery
birth site, their emotional placentae,
drawing from, returning to it new creations
for all of us to follow, fire our senses,
make us!
make art in all our hearts,
and don’t mind me, just
*”close your eyes, child, and look at what I'll show you;
Let your mind go reeling out and let the breezes blow you,
And maybe when we meet then suddenly I will know you.
If all the things you see ain't
Quite what they seem,
Then don't mind me 'cos I ain't nothin' but a dream .
‘cos*”
We
ain’t nothing but a dream,
our disguised muses visiting,
pleading to be
usefully used…
Aug 28, 2024
Aug 28, 2024 at 3:02 PM UTC
So I feel every moment is an opportunity
To express my love to someone special
In everything all I feel is your love
I want to now express it using corona
See am already sick of love
I have a difficulty in breathing
It’s because of you that I have fever
Your love makes me very sick
Your love has made me infected
And I advise the rest to keep distance
They should all stay home and stay safe
Coz no one else should contact this virus
When am near them
I always wear face mask
I do not want them near me they stay home
And am already quarantined with u no one else near us
Before we met my heart was very impure
You made it clean my sanitizer
Because of you that am sick of love
Let the rest keep distance it’s me and you.
Richie*
Please like my Facebook page at
https://www.facebook.com/Richie-da-poet-107595550950485/
Sep 2, 2020
Sep 2, 2020 at 11:13 AM UTC
I love you but am afraid
Im in love but have not said
I have feelings yet undefined
I love you but am very afraid
I fear that if love you
I'm going to finally lose you
I love no one else but you
I love you but am very afraid
Am not loving the first time
I have fear you will go to them
And I don't want to make a meme
I love you but am very afraid
Many have loved in deed
So much been done an said
But be sure you have wished
I love you but am very afraid
Richie
Please like my Facebook page at
https://www.facebook.com/Richie-da-poet-107595550950485/
Jun 14, 2020
Jun 14, 2020 at 3:45 PM UTC
At first when my eyes saw you
My heart felt something for you
My soul wished to be with you
And the whole of my dreams were on you
My first fear was whether I could know you
Then it changed and I wished to get you
Now am happy I have you
But I fear I could lose you
I wish I could get all I want
And my wish is that you live to be mine
That would always hold your hand
And you forever hold mine
Wishes are not horses
But I wish they will become true
Dreams may not come true
But wish dream will be real
Richie
https://www.facebook.com/Richie-da-poet-107595550950485/
Jun 14, 2020
Jun 14, 2020 at 3:36 PM UTC
Roses spices and onions skins off
Richie ride me back home
there's nowhere to hide from your love.
~~~~~
I thought I could find a place not to think of you for one day, so I went to the kitchen for a soup there was nothing to eat but pasta sauce and there you were
in front of me up in the spices
I had to use in place of meat on bone for boiling a soup.
Heating up battled water added cento tomato and the sauce
all kinds of spices; parsely real sea salts garlic pepper a pinch of taco spice wild cilantro, a garlic squized and cloves
(no basil)
cayene pepper did the magic
lemon juice added the final punch for my Mexican soup;
added a few granes bazmati rice found, added a white onion slice and blessed as I felt
"I cried me a river for you" and
The White Cliffs of Dover
songs came to mind to console
me as I broke shrinking down
the stinking onion was me
and noone to share my soup
I turned stove top off to go
wipe face off and
entering the bedroom I tripped
knees on the red floor unconsolable crying.
Yes the room was filled with
roses wild and roses red!
and again you made my day.
I felt so blessed to have
held so many of your treasures
in arms to see my hands half full with roses
and half full with bittersweet spices beheld.
Upon my bed a heart was carved
inscribed in tiny little
red rose buds and purple hearts
in your words "I love you"
I craweled to reach the bed careful not to disturb the million roses nor bleed feet with their thurns as they layed artisticly everywhere room full of roses,
I wept there caressed by your roses spices and songs
hugged all night long.
by insomnia bug
Oh please my darling Old Richie "ride me back home."
there's nowhere to hide
from your love.
~~~~~~~~~
Karijinbba-03/2020.
Copy Rights
Mar 8, 2020
Mar 8, 2020 at 7:59 AM UTC
It's me you're looking for
according to Lionel not
quite falsetto but at least
smooth alto unpunctuated
to give your wonder freedom
to wander and wonder
who each of us is - poems
demand so much of us
for sure hesitant English
speakers add frequently,
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 9:52 AM UTC