...a diary of the falling dominoes chapter

invisibly dying from the inside out
no one is looking into unseen eyes
no one can hear a muted voice fading
no one is close enough to be near

the deafening thrums echo
anxieties’ racing heartbeat
within morphing flesh shell ,
gasping for new breath
in a hovering stale silence

from a distance
the broken mirror ricochets a subdued light ;
much closer the reflection reveals
someone I once knew by heart

now an unrecognizable mask
enshrouds a terminal emptiness
inconspicuous at a fleeting glance ,
impossible to discern what storms rage
from the inside out ,... unnoticed  

an uncontained wildfire
smoldering within,  lies in wait
for the imminent winds of change
to fan the flames into the final
eternal silent ashes

a poet reaches out demurely
offering a candid look
into the window
of the imperfect human soul

there is no poetry
met by indifference
just gathered unread words scribbled,

squandered time
dripped slowly on an empty page ;
moments turn into days
days turned into years

invisibly dying from the inside out
an unfinished life trickles out
like seeping blood evanescing
from a bottomless puncture
wounding ... penetrating the heart,
leaching out the slow death of a poet

for poetry is only words unless they touch someone ...

befallen to indifference is poetic death
by salted paper cuts ...

a muting suffocation
that hiddenly erodes away,
silencing the passion
of a musing soul
one unread word at a time ...


© harlon rivers ... all rights reserved

When I was a kid
It was so easy
To get lost
In the depths
Of my overactive imagination.
I dreamed up worlds
Of saturated colors
In arching storylines
With characters I knew better
Than I knew myself.
They were my escape.
There were "Kristen" and "Melanie",
The sisters who loved unconditionally
In a southern style home
Transplanted to the landscape
Of the Pacific Northwest.
There were "Tadgh" and "Samantha"
Who wrote melodic masterpieces
To match the turbulent serenity
That threatened to pull them apart
With every corner turn in life.
There were so many others
That I poured my time into,
Creating a universe
I so desperately wanted
To permanently live in.
Though I was their creator,
Their molder and former,
I was also a mere visitor,
Just pressing my nose against the glass.

Now sometimes I wonder
Whatever became of those characters.
Did their stories turn into the fairytales
Everyone hiddenly desires for themselves?
Did they wind up finding love
And family and happiness and peace?
Did they struggle and fail and lose at life?

Some say I could go back,
Find the threads of their unfinished tales.
But that isn't possible.
It isn't possible because I've grown up,
And the door in the back of the wardrobe
Has become a flat panel of wood.
And I'm left with my nose
Pressed up against the glass of memory.

Her departure was my deepest sorrow
Knowing that i'll wake without her tomorrow
I gave her my heart, my soul
Looking back now, I'm left to sit here hollow
Hiddenly I watch from a distance
As you spoil her, who was once my princess
Cherish her in your arms as I would've
And give her everything that I couldn't
Be her reason to smile every single day
And remind her how beautiful she is in every single way
I'm unable to do so from where I stand
Even when I try to make amends
My mistakes were made and time has been lost
She endured the pain that i've caused
I wrote this in hopes of common peace,
As her heart is one I can no longer appease
From the words of her former to her lover
I wish you both happiness together

I was given madness
Madness was given me

Stockholm to Helsinki
We sail the Baltic Sea

Life's a *****, then you die
But before I'm silently

Some good gracious try
Probably hiddenly

      Unus Mundus? Si.