"bestrewn" poems
Flaming bridges up in smoke—
ashes scattered in the wind
Requiem to passing yesterdays;
vestige of all that’s lost —
bestrewn in prevailing currents
amongst the drifting autumn leaves
No smoke on rising waters
— lingers between
growing distant shores
Untamed rivers rising
rinse away
the taste of sparks
spake from silent tongues
Portaging all that once was
with all that could never remain,
back to the briny deep
An uncontainable
rivers pilgrimage —
entombing reverently
ancient fractals of being
Sowing feral rivers' ashes —
sacrificial scatterings of destiny
washed afar unto the flotsam
on shoreless stormy seas
Jesse Stillwater
Nov 10, 2018
Nov 10, 2018 at 12:54 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
Oh wilderness' soul ― I Beseech thee !
I feel your deepest awakening secrets stir
Whispers uttered in immortal Winds
Calling to the Fountains of my soul
Standing the hairs of comfortably numb
Spilled breath bestrewn upon frayed Mortality
Oh wilderness' soul ― I Bequeath thee !
The ashes the deepest Oceans my heart
As circadian Tides have ebb and flowed
Forsaken feigned love’s misbegotten guise
Now chastened sightless before an unseen labyrinth
Beset by a human blindness that decays all light
Oh wilderness' soul ― I Entreat thee !
Cleanse this molted flesh ― time shed ―
Artifacts of perfectly imperfect traces
Reminders of things we strive to forget
For in the self-loathed aching Silence
I feel the urgent pull of Wilderness' Soul
Reaching out ― Benignly
to Entomb my Heart and Soul
Someone you used to know April 1st, 2017
Mar 31, 2017
Mar 31, 2017 at 7:49 PM UTC
Beyond yon roof, of sod and thatch
Beyond yon door, of wood and latch
Beyond the reach of man's morals
Beyond yon hedge of thicket Laurels
Dwells a creature in forest veil
Dwells one, that lives, beyond the pale
Dwells, who takes victims with care
Dwells, who with, blank eye does stare
Watch, it does, from beneath the moon
Watch, it does, from shadows bestrewn
Watch, it has intent to bespell
Watch and feel its brace impel
Whilst, I hold, dreams sempiternal
Whilst, I invite, days be final
Whilst, I take last, sweet breath
Whilst, I embrace my lover....Death
Jun 11, 2011
Jun 11, 2011 at 7:52 PM UTC
.
*Musical brush strokes paint
the pink honey moon
full and bright ;
the melody wafts lightly
with a sensual scent
of Jasmine fleur
Lonely hearts sip the sky’s
lambent elixir’s gentle persuasion
from separately dispersed novas
the perennial blossom of the perpetual tide .., .
merely pined moonlight
Immersing wholly in wistful reflection
alight on wellspring emerald pond
Verily unspoken words cavort
like musical rivulets spiraling flow
into the crystalline echo
Luna’s haloed heavenly sighs ,
emanation bestrewn
shimmering through dark nebula
like shooting stars shattered
by the weight
of their darkest radiance,
echoes upon the tide-less mirror pond
the nimbus of moonlight
imbuing all the ways I want you* . . .
wild is the wind ...© 6.17.2015
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 12:53 PM UTC
A sallowest silence drips,
drop by drop,
into open muddy palms
The ripple in the gathering cup
of hand, undulates within soul
like poignant ocean waves
eat away at the sands of time ,
just below where
a lighthouse beacon beckons
shining from someplace I can’t find
A hidden pathway
lies untrodden
beneath a thousand
dew drop clad ferns ,
fronds bestrewn with autumn’s
befallen sleight of hand
swaddled in her fading
manifest guise
Where wild mushrooms
rise blindly from
resplendent darkness
beneath silken earthen moss ,
to teach the parables ,
how fleeting a moment passes
The moment enwrapped
in nature's solicitude ,
the only shelter
mother nature's own refugees
whom dwell in an ever fugitive
sense of belonging
Fallen Lichen scattered
like wild feathers ,
traces from a higher ground ;
sown bread crumbs
of the heavens ,
abandoned like slowly falling
snowflakes upon a labyrinth
coursing beyond
emerald dank bejewel
Leading me willingly onward
beyond belated familiarity ,
exiled void of affinity
a Trumpeter swan
in search of wapatos
The stone cold silent languor
rises up through
thickly grasping moss
Wind stirs the ennui
with a breath of kindness ,
chilling a body in a soul
as cold as lonely stone ,
sheathed beneath
its hard yet fragile disguise
A twisted pathway
leading somewhere
I yearn to follow ;
somewhere unknown
beckoning from
deeply hidden hope
and its urgent calling
Somehow the uncertainty
of the path I am drawn
makes me feel
a little less removed
Assured by the gentle touch
deeply rooted ancient earthen spirits ,
beyond doubt , I’m never alone
deep beyond wooded margin
Cocooned in creation’s sanctuary
mother nature’s own refugee ...
wild is the wind
Nov 23, 2016
Nov 23, 2016 at 10:53 AM UTC
The black night’s ebbing tide
erased the only remaining hints,
the cresting long ocean swells
did not cleanse without a trace.
Adrift and lethargically bobbing
seaweed entangled teakwood box
of water-logged photographs, drowning,
surrendered from the heart of the sea
Like molted wild feathers cast ashore with the tide
to the coarse specks of rasping sands,
Darwin's dream in an emptied sea-bubble popped,
dissipated into its own haplessness,
bestrewn about an untrodden seashore
Washed out snapshots of life’s disregarded minutia
enchained to an ordinary forgotten Kodachrome moment
left out to the consequences of the ever fickle tides,
abandoned happenstance spilled by chance
upon another undiscovered world
The warped and bloated wooden box encasement,
hoary with swollen furrowed woodgrain s,
wearied by an enduring measureless moment adrift;
as if an ill-fated message in a misbegotten leaky bottle,
corked with marooned good intentions,
and images of disappearing dreams
flung out shipwrecked in barnacled azure glass
beneath a sky so far away
someone you used to know
Mar 4, 2017
Mar 4, 2017 at 9:37 PM UTC
The warm autumn breeze
scatters the leaves
like spring snowflakes
I carefully hand stack
them each by color,
one by one,
as if they were
befallen dreams
or
similarly unholdable
gathered
garnered memories
•
each leaf touched
reminds me
of how many times
I've had to let go ―
how many times
I've fallen
without a place to land
until the winds of change
drew me back up
as if I were
evanescent autumn leaves,
to be swept away again,
touched by the spirit
the true nature
of love
• •
sown seeds of one love
bestrewn hopefully,
thusly cast about
just as intended,
the grain and chaff together,
sifted by the velvet breath
of the samsara wind's
sanguine touch
• • •
autumn waters ... October 29, 2017
Oct 29, 2017
Oct 29, 2017 at 12:09 PM UTC
.
*I cradle my head
in my palms
There's an inerasable vision
of hearts and bones
inwoven in a spider web
Untied forget-me-nots
writhing disentanglement
A collage of all the dead roses ,
tawny petals bestrewn across
a fallow frozen mind-scape ;
hidden behind eye-lid's
hesitantly arising curtain
just like a noir movie screen
I saw love disfigure me*
wild is the wind ... December 4th, 2016
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 2:11 PM UTC
Early days as a flaneur;
I recall the couple
On the Metro
When I was still innocent
Of its labyrinthine complexities;
Slim pretty white girl,
Clad head to toe
In new blue denim,
Wistfully smiling
While her muscular black beau
Stared straight through me
With fathomless, fulgorous orbs;
And one of them spoke
(Almost in a whisper):
"Qu'est-ce que t'en pense?"
Then it dawned on me...
The slender young Parisienne
With the distant desirous eyes
Was no less male than I.
Being screamed at in Pigalle,
And then howled at again
By some kind of wild-eyed
Drifter who told me to go
To the Bois de Boulogne to seek
What he clearly saw as my destiny;
Getting ****** in Les Halles
With Sara
Who'd just seen Dillon as
Rusty James,
And was walking around in a daze;
Sara again with Jade
At the Caveau de la Huchette.
Cash squandered
On a cheap gold-plated toothbrush,
Portrait sketched at the Place du Tertre,
Paperback books
By Symbolist poets,
Second hand volumes
By Trakl and Deleve,
And a leather jacket from
The flea market
At the Porte de Clignancourt.
Metro taken to Montparnasse,
Where I slowly sipped
A demi blonde
In one of those brasseries
(Perhaps)
Immortalised by Brassai;
Bewhiskered old man
In a naval officer's cap,
His table bestrewn
With empty wine bottles
And cigarette butts,
Repeatedly screeched the name
"Phillippe!" until a bartender
With patent leather hair,
Filled his wineglass to the brim,
With a mock-obsequious:
"Voila, mon Captaine!"
I cut into the Rue du Bac,
Traversed the Pont Royal,
Briefly beheld
Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois,
With its gothic tower,
Constructed only latterly,
In order that
The 6th Century church
Might complement
The style of the remainder
Of the 1er Arrondissement,
Before steering for the
Place du Chatelet,
And onwards...Les Halles!
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 6:18 AM UTC
For one hundred days, we set sail without as much as one distraction.
But the skies open up,
the waves begin to groan.
The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound,
and a wave broke over the railing.
The lost ship would not float again,
with tattered sails and opening seams,
and deck bestrewn with falling beams,
in the deep ocean it will remain.
I feel your fear and despair.
I was much farther out than you thought.
I scream but nothing, nothing will come out.
You’ve gone too far…..
Another nameless sailor’s ghost lost to the sea.
As the tide just sweeps and sways,
When will I find my way home?
Where is the shore-line?
Will this open water become my tomb?
Whoever told the sun to wake?
And whoever told the moon to clutch the sea?
Alone, yes alone, I may not survive.
The water’s getting so hard to tread
with these waves crashing over my head.
Just a hug could make me feel like I was never alone.
Light rain-drops fall and wrinkle the sea.
I should have known the tides were getting higher.
I will fall asleep,
to close my eyes is to be at sea,
and live eternally, immortally.
There was never any way of going back to the old world with any sort of victory,
or good tidings of new discovery.
At sea I sail in the bellowing gale,
on my way to the end.
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 8:04 AM UTC
A moment recurring
does wash away
like a river rock
The smooth surface
of an eroded stone
is just as hard
as the abraded silence
that rivers
through loneliness
Sometimes terrified
of this foolish
blue moon heart;
of its constant
hunger
for whatever
it is it wants;
the way it stops
and starts ,..
like a revenant whisper
fanning
smoldering embers
of fallen stars
buried deeply
in the catacombs
of an unrequited heart
out of reach,
just a step away,
but close enough
to touch the crumbs
of some other's love
bestrewn sanguinely ―
marking the footprints
calling down
an unshorn pathway
never found
At a deserted crossroads,
many a moon
tiptoe past
inconspicuously;
unnoticed fallen stars
stagnate lightless
in a flash of darkness,
moving back in time
just standing still
harlon rivers ... March 2018
Mar 30, 2018
Mar 30, 2018 at 12:50 PM UTC
I can't even find traces of your feet,
The dust has covered all places, every street.
All the bright tales who are concealed by veils,
Are filled with cries and smiles; bitter and sweet.
When the moonbeams are bestrewn at night,
Waves lying towards shores flit, float and fleet.
As long as the Cup of Youth is sipped from,
Smiles shine like the moon and stars who retreat.
Gain, gain and gain, but it still feels empty,
For some reason, the soul feels not complete.
That Gihon is dream-drunk and world-sober,
From sleep to awake like the Phoenix's heat.
Oct 25, 2018
Oct 25, 2018 at 11:48 AM UTC
she is disarray,
heart of quandary,
clutter of thoughts,
bestrewn responsibility.
she lays
cool grass tickling her cheeks.
her entire world,
tangled as the spirals in her hair,
drifting overhead.
that day
she let go of the shambles
of everything that was.
her worries,
once so heavy,
became the clouds.
and she had nothing but blue skies
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 5:57 PM UTC
you’re looking at me through street lights and dark
you’re looking at me you’re whole world falling apart
waking the neighbors, you cry alongside the rising lark
darling don’t worry i’ll hold your world together with my heart
the demons aren’t real yet you make them your home
screaming behind walls of traumatic stress you call your own
tearing at silk stitches, flashing smiles of chrome
eyes of green lament, it was the world you let drag you down
the glistening stars fall dim in a hushed morning sky
beautiful eyes, you look at me with such deplorable lies
that night, the car, you in my arms, the words: we could die
heart beat rampant, eyes glazed with clouds you whisper goodbyes
you’re seated beside me, apologies and feelings left bestrewn
lethargic beauty, you act as if you are the daybreak’s evanescent moon
mind collapsing into craters, you threaten forever so soon
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 2:05 PM UTC
Drag, drag, drag your boat,
gently through mud and **** that
before was a stream
Humpty Trumpty sat
in his gold penthouse chanting,
"We will build a wall!"
Old MacDonald had
a farm on cleared forest land,
E-I-E-I-O
Do you know the nut-/
gluten-/dairy-/egg-/sugar-
free muffin man? No?
She sells seashells by
the steadily rising and
trash-bestrewn seashore
If you're happy and
you know it, get a shrink; it's
2017.
May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 6:16 AM UTC
Lo! Behold the morning with such beauteous delight.
See diaphanous filaments bestrewn with beads of dew,
sparkling their display of every shade of prismatic hue,
exalting the spider’s art, woven throughout the night!
Lo! See the wraiths of mist, slowly rising from the river bed,
whilst apparent rootless reeds, seen on either bank,
stand like ephemeral ghosts! The air though heavy and dank
becomes alive with a myriad of creatures. For the night has fled!
Lo! Hear the clear crystal sounds which bid the new day awaken.
The crowing **** the raucous cawing crow, the mourning dove,
all borne upon the breeze, which routs reluctant clouds above.
Once again with the breaking dawn perceived, darkness is overtaken!
Lo! Give thanks for the wakening of sleeping souls once more,
for having survived the unknown perils of the past night.
Arising to witness another day graced by Dawn’s early light,
we are aware that the awaiting day invites us to come; explore!
Rhymer. June 27th, 2018.
Jun 27, 2018
Jun 27, 2018 at 6:47 AM UTC