#storypoetry
Hooray!
For once, i'm feeling
as sweet as Honey Bunch, today.
I.. had a rad dream that
my serene queen
was by my side.
We rose together with the tide
against enemies might.
In the rays of days
and midst of midnight
we were a tight team, a royal pair.
The riches I masked and amassed.
The richest and rarest gems. Those,
I had to shatter glass just to gather.
All for her to cherish,
and for us to share.
Through cashout nights,
blackouts, and frights
she's always down for the reckless, restless ride into town.
My corpse' bride, the remedy to my living dead snarl.
she turned my frown upside down. When I slipped, she was along for the tumble down the side of the mound.
A king's new pride.. in her,
pure security was found.
We ruled the broken-jeweled scene,
a team, a pair.
In the eye of the storm,
we were cheerful
chirpy.
We were chicks with the same cluck.
When the going was rough,
we rode the wave smooth
like cream satin sheets, a perfect tuck.
I found a happy time during nappy-time
With my queen who turned the horned scorn from opposition into cries full of repent.
For my peace, they paid for their derision by her decision.
A piece of me, can't wait to see us clad in matching crowns, suit and gown..
as soon as her scrumptious skin comes 'round.
How my sullen soul yearns for the moment my Highness burns away every bullet riddled with leaden lies.
When I get to grin the sunny smile of an exhiled ruler who found his true pride.
His exciting.. fuller prize.
I pray she finds her way to me, send us on a journey to her bubbly clouds
Before my disparity ruptures
from lack of clarity and structure.
Nov 11, 2025
Nov 11, 2025 at 6:04 PM UTC
I was home alone
Sitting in my room
When ringing invited itself into my home
A package has been delivered
I jumped up
My feet barely touching the ground
And made my way to the door
It was another summer day
Soft wind blowing
Trees rustling in the distance
Birds singing joyful songs of freedom
As I open the door
The smell of summer morning slaps me in the face
Telling me it’s time to wake up
I grab the package
My fingers swiftly graze the tape
My eyes wonder
And fear holds me tight
An invader
I realize I’m in grave danger
A scream leaves my lips
Dropping the package
I run inside
I close the door and look through the sparkling glass window
There he sits
On the side of my fence
Chirping knowing that he’s in power
Behind me walks my knight in shining armor
Calmly making her way towards me
Minding her own business
Fear takes the lead
And I reach for help
Quickly opening the door
I swing her short furry legs
Once
Twice
And on the third time
Boom
Target is down
Tears find themselves in my eyes
And camp in for a while
I thank my cat
For saving my life
And we go back home to eat
Never to speak of what happened again
Mar 1, 2019
Mar 1, 2019 at 10:38 PM UTC
Coyote’s mournful howl echoed
in the new moon’s enchanting sultry ether;
breathing the living harmony of the wilderness rhythm
He seemed to sense a soul reincarnation
within a pervasive spirit light
an oft misunderstood
common thread shared
this hallowed land’s night
An uncommon Zen stirring from within,
stifling apathy ..,
. . . of rumble deep beneath
a dormant volcano reawakening ;
that which lies undiscovered
just before the ruptured moment ..,
liberation of release ―
dust and ashes taking flight
Through open window insomnia churns
fifty shades of blue ..,
cast in shadowed hues of broken silence
Coyote stirred the stillness
with a hauntingly familiar cry
reading the ridge-top echoes
like the book of my mind
" YIP YIP A ―W O O H !!! " . . . the somber plea
For it is in these final hours chosen chore
the recurring torn
these chains and things
Coyote was going there ―
to stand these watermark crossroads
this hour of need
Accepting brother has always been lonely
sometimes anything
means something - -
and so it goes ..,
Coyote communes in pulse
from ancient realms
this sacred blood ..,
Om
the lost chord
wounded healers ,
. . . one mutual spirit
runs marrow deep
where dogs run free
The moan of doves whisper to the impending dawn
. . . always known these days
too soon do come and gone
What once was a life well lived ,
s l o w l y e v a n e s c i n g
like the summer river’s flow
some say ..." you never miss the water
'til the well runs dry "
. . . regrets a waste of time - -
Rumination, a loathsome silent reverie
a taunting unsolved koan
an unplanned oxymoron ,
beget of a deafening silence
. . . dust sleeps with indifference
veiling a beautiful handmade
unstrung guitar
muted - - abandoned,
tone poems, unsung
and so "re-begins" the task ...
come what may rise up
into the dark star's light ...
Coyote was going there - -
a dawning metamorphosis
under another nebulous sky
. . . refreshed by Luna's potent alchemy bestrewn
in her spellbinding lambent moonlight elixir of life ...
harlon rivers ... 5. 21. 2015
Oct 20, 2017
Oct 20, 2017 at 11:21 AM UTC
I reach my hands to touch you
in the worst parts
that you want
but i dont
but you do
but we dont
but we do-
the silence creeping in
just enough to rip my hands
onto you
and onto where you want them to,
heavy hands
heavy breaths
in and out,
tongue twisted between lips
and bad lies,
heart brokenness underneath blankets
and blankets of desire
piled on top of hormonic lusts-
I say that i'm sorry
i'm sorry that i don't love you enough to mean
i'm sorry
and to take away the heaviness
weighing down upon my lips
as they quiver and shake
because i regret getting in the car in the first place.
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 11:38 PM UTC
The blade swings and cuts, it falters not,
For when the blade is swung, a soul is cut.
It is handled firm and questions not,
The hand in which its edge will rot.
The master is still and with gentle care,
He strips the mind and leaves body bare.
Of want and suffering, hope and loss,
Even those who believe in the anguish of the cross.
Footsteps he leaves to forever mark his way,
Pooled with the tears of those filled with dismay.
Look there, he's been here, this is his doing,
Another weary soul he is pursuing.
For master and blade they are one and the same.
In each soul they mark a blood-etched name.
Reaper, the ****** fear his coming and flee.
Lock your doors and abandon the key...
Dec 29, 2015
Dec 29, 2015 at 2:27 AM UTC