"warily" poems
Little Birds are dining
Warily and well,
Hid in mossy cell:
Hid, I say, by waiters
Gorgeous in their gaiters -
I've a Tale to tell.
Little Birds are feeding
Justices with jam,
Rich in frizzled ham:
Rich, I say, in oysters
Haunting shady cloisters -
That is what I am.
Little Birds are teaching
Tigresses to smile,
Innocent of guile:
Smile, I say, not smirkle -
Mouth a semicircle,
That's the proper style!
Little Birds are sleeping
All among the pins,
Where the loser wins:
Where, I say, he sneezes
When and how he pleases -
So the Tale begins.
Little Birds are writing
Interesting books,
To be read by cooks:
Read, I say, not roasted -
Letterpress, when toasted,
Loses its good looks.
Little Birds are playing
Bagpipes on the shore,
Where the tourists snore:
"Thanks!" they cry. "'Tis thrilling!
Take, oh take this shilling!
Let us have no more!"
Little Birds are bathing
Crocodiles in cream,
Like a happy dream:
Like, but not so lasting -
Crocodiles, when fasting,
Are not all they seem!
Little Birds are choking
Baronets with bun,
Taught to fire a gun:
Taught, I say, to splinter
Salmon in the winter -
Merely for the fun.
Little Birds are hiding
Crimes in carpet-bags,
Blessed by happy stags:
Blessed, I say, though beaten -
Since our friends are eaten
When the memory flags.
Little Birds are tasting
Gratitude and gold,
Pale with sudden cold:
Pale, I say, and wrinkled -
When the bells have tinkled,
And the Tale is told.
14k
I wish I could run with you
in your silent packs
I have done my share of howling
a prisoner of this sluggish, two legged species
that cannot chase down prey
or take flight, without the crafted creations
of others,
I can, if I wade warily through
waves of wind, and time,
dance with you,
on moon grazed prairies
but only until the sun cracks the dawn
and exposes me, for the vain actor I am
Feb 12, 2014
Feb 12, 2014 at 9:54 AM UTC
I imagine this midnight moment's forest:
Something else is alive
Besides the clock's loneliness
And this blank page where my fingers move.
Through the window I see no star:
Something more near
Though deeper within darkness
Is entering the loneliness:
Cold, delicately as the dark snow,
A fox's nose touches twig, leaf;
Two eyes serve a movement, that now
And again now, and now, and now
Sets neat prints into the snow
Between trees, and warily a lame
Shadow lags by stump and in hollow
Of a body that is bold to come
Across clearings, an eye,
A widening deepening greenness,
Brilliantly, concentratedly,
Coming about its own business
Till, with sudden sharp hot stink of fox
It enters the dark hole of the head.
The window is starless still; the clock ticks,
The page is printed.
4.6k
The ivory poacher stalks his prey
each day he walks the silent plains
a gun slung high upon his arm
no warmth within his gaze
Elephants nor rhinos sought
but two or one extensions of
an ivory tower painted red a
bullseye meaning meant for dead
The ivory poacher sights his barrel
warily delivers narrow
slivers of a weathered corpse
thundering down to the earth
an ivory tower in his hand
or two if it's an elephant
a clean pristine white he holds high
and on his soul a red bullseye
Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 9:59 PM UTC
Laying in the yellowed grass,
Blades softly deceive.
Feeling comfort in this place,
I never want to leave.
At my feet the water cool,
A lonely little pond.
Seeming hushed tranquility,
Of this I'm truly fond.
I lay alone for just a moment,
Time lost not in regret.
All worries and daily troubles,
Easy to momentarily forget.
I know when I leave this glen,
Everything will bury me.
I cannot do this by myself,
Living life so warily.
Then she came to me so gently,
Landing on my arm.
Eyes bluer than the sea kissing the sky,
She meant me no harm.
A dragonfly, swift and wise,
Full of beauty and grace.
I knew that this mysterious creature,
Would guard me beyond this place.
Looking over me day-to-day,
From the skies up above.
I need not to fear or need not fret,
Protected by her love.
I knew that you had not left,
Your time with me not through.
This guardian angel dragonfly,
Reminds me of being with you.
Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 1:03 AM UTC
Lately you're tender,
And my heart greedily takes,
While my mind warily wonders.
What is the reason?
Do you love me in tenderness, in passion?
Or do you love me in repentance?
Darling,
I've not the strength
To refuse to be your atonement.
Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 12:06 PM UTC
Come walk with me a mile...
Walk on without our burden’s weighty shoes,
warily trudging over the long rocky pathway
a lifetime in my soul.
A final edifying voyage to freedom.
The winds of change are blowing briskly
as we walk charily over the long and narrowing
rock-strewn passageway.
I shed these boots and skin, no longer fitting
my scared, blistered and callused soles.
As time slowly passes,
this craggy passage has evolved
from a two-way trail,
into one-way jagged forage…
Standing barefooted and naked on rocky ground,
dark sunken sleepless eyes scan
the rolling vista as the wind blows
dust from the halo around the sun,
blurring the delicate wispy cirrus clouds.
The sun’s radiance paints frozen ice crystal azure
into a vivid aura of prisms’ brilliant corona.
Kaleidoscope rainbows adorn the closest of solar stars.
There's something in the ethereal air
that leaves my soul unsettled,
grasping for an evocative stability
trying to understand the silenced voices
crying out within…
The pain and suffering has vanished
as if the body and soul have separated,
numbness from the ache of longing,
severed nerves, callused fears
ruptured on serrated rocky edges,
deadened useless flesh cut to the bone
by misjudged obstacles encountered enduringly.
The barefooted spirit courses on,
suffused in the solar spectrum’s dust;
yearning, longing to saunter
above and beyond the bloated feathery pillows;
cumulus clouds finally resting at peace.
Dipping heart's lesions and these benumbed toes
into a healing balm
from the bowers of bliss..
An unfinished life
an open ended dream,
reluctantly waking to take the last ,
surrendering steps beyond the threshold...
A long and winding rocky journey’s destiny
draws near
The halo around the moon
illuminates an understanding firmament;
the celestial sphere’s
pending imminent soulful rain awaits
the metamorphosis at the brink of dawn.
A shower of heaven's rain
shall mourn the loss of flesh form
as the spirit of an untamed soul lives on,
barefooted,
naked and free
like the dust in the wind
absorbed eternally...
2011 © harlon rivers
all rights reserved
Aug 17, 2016
Aug 17, 2016 at 11:16 AM UTC
You sit daintily on her lap
And everything’s a frenzy
Not a sunset fiesta
But an angry cataclysm of molecules
Ricocheting into hysterical radioactivity
And I sit quietly
Warily
I watch mine become hers
During brief moments
Of searing mania and the pit
Of my core is unraveling
And my heart is two patters too quick
In the most sedated of ways
On days when the wrinkles of your hands
Match another’s
And when you are no longer my own.
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 6:09 PM UTC
The rain set early in tonight,
The sullen wind was soon awake,
It tore the elm-tops down for spite,
And did its worst to vex the lake:
I listened with heart fit to break.
When glided in Porphyria; straight
She shut the cold out and the storm,
And kneeled and made the cheerless grate
Blaze up, and all the cottage warm;
Which done, she rose, and from her form
Withdrew the dripping cloak and shawl,
And laid her soiled gloves by, untied
Her hat and let the damp hair fall,
And, last, she sat down by my side
And called me. When no voice replied,
She put my arm about her waist,
And made her smooth white shoulder bare,
And all her yellow hair displaced,
And, stooping, made my cheek lie there,
And spread, o’er all, her yellow hair,
Murmuring how she loved me—she
Too weak, for all her heart’s endeavor,
To set its struggling passion free
From pride, and vainer ties dissever,
And give herself to me forever.
But passion sometimes would prevail,
Nor could tonight’s gay feast restrain
A sudden thought of one so pale
For love of her, and all in vain:
So, she was come through wind and rain.
Be sure I looked up at her eyes
Happy and proud; at last I knew
Porphyria worshiped me: surprise
Made my heart swell, and still it grew
While I debated what to do.
That moment she was mine, mine, fair,
Perfectly pure and good: I found
A thing to do, and all her hair
In one long yellow string I wound
Three times her little throat around,
And strangled her. No pain felt she;
I am quite sure she felt no pain.
As a shut bud that holds a bee,
I warily oped her lids: again
Laughed the blue eyes without a stain.
And I untightened next the tress
About her neck; her cheek once more
Blushed bright beneath my burning kiss:
I propped her head up as before
Only, this time my shoulder bore
Her head, which droops upon it still:
The smiling rosy little head,
So glad it has its utmost will,
That all it scorned at once is fled,
And I, its love, am gained instead!
Porphyria’s love: she guessed not how
Her darling one wish would be heard.
And thus we sit together now,
And all night long we have not stirred,
And yet God has not said a word!
2.2k
I hear it
half in the bag of blankets
with an empty glass of wine
dumped
Between--
the furnace rumbling on
and the cat purring on my lap
"What the hell!"
That foreign sound!--
...of water in the winter
Far too cold for rain
more like a forest stream's refrain
I start to think of birds-- Then it occurs
I have a problem in the basement
Wading into the waters of Lake Laundry
Glancing warily for those snakes of wires
suspended from their rafter's limbs
about to spit and snag me
with their lightning strike
Slamming that ****
to make it go--
away--
Defeat
dripping off
jeans and unders
A clothes line pinned
with curses
Ah yes.
The smell of the Tide ...
going out
on another day
Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 12:47 PM UTC
I struggle
To be back in this place again
Warily treading a gorgeously uncomfortable river
Of crashing beauty
And the shivering memories of devastating pain.
I press my hands to the cold car window
And I let this landscape of thoughts roll through me
Dense and flat
Like the low-lying valley fog flirting with the evergreens.
The beauty rinses me clean for a few hours
Absolves my blue beating heart
Of a loneliness that falls and puddles within me
Like soft rain.
The cold smell of snowy pine is sharp
Like the crack of a whip in the white metal air.
A distended azure sky swells to fill the heavens
Smelling sweetly of snow and wind.
Wind hums gently through dense, endless miles
Of storybook forests
And my heart shudders inside me
As though it has never been touched before.
It is then that I let myself wander to you
And I feel your last kiss
Burning softly on the lips of the woman
Reflected vaguely back at me in the window.
She waits for you, as I do
Both of us dwelling in two cities so different
That a wide and courageous fjord
Holds them forever apart.
I wait for you
Life's brave soldier
Eyes that still my soul
Arms of kind and gentle steel
Heart of gold and purple and blue
Kiss of waterfall and wildfire.
Come home to me.
Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 10:02 PM UTC
Far, up high,
An idol's cry,
Her shining tears,
Sprinkle the sky,
Infinity's tomb,
Brings cosmos bloom,
Bringing life,
And starlight's doom,—
—Shining through, Celestia weeps.
Painting warily,
Creating merrily,
Braiding hues,
Working wearily,
While painting shells,
Her eyes still swell,
Her canvas, sprinkled,
As shining tears fell,—
—Shining through, Celestia weeps.
Gaze shifting upon her opus,
To the Terra, formed with focus,
As she peers, she fails to notice,
Her heart's expire, soft necrosis,
Yet again, a grieving seep,
Striking hard, striking deep,
Off again, her focus turns,
Her mind taking a blinded leap,—
—Shining through, Celestia weeps.
Jul 7, 2021
Jul 7, 2021 at 12:58 PM UTC
I dip my toes in the tide
adjacent to the edge of my all-consuming paracosm.
The water is cold
alluring
unsteady
absolute.
Within it lies the demise
of one thousand dreams
999 unfulfilled wishes
And just over 13 ‘what if’s.
Right outside my humble fantasy
I spy a silhouette,
my potential self.
Warily I take a closer peek.
The girlish apparition reveals nothing
She seems to hold her breath while I lean farther in
And at long last, deserting all juvenile fancies,
reality greets me as I timidly wade
Into the waves.
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 6:42 PM UTC
it begins crisper than november,
still, chilly, ice blue sky,
then warm, then cold, then crazy frigid,
wind cat-yowling,
and on the windows,
frost feathers that do not melt all day.
the solstice sun creeps warily
across the south horizon,
glancing brilliant off frost-sheathed trees,
so cold the very air is frozen--
sparkling ice crystals float rainbow colored
like dizziness before my eyes.
Christmas eve starts grey and windy--
rain at two and snow at three--
the huge flakes my mom called "horsebirds".
And just at sunset, a patch of blue,
a sky tunnel for those tiny reindeer.
Christmas morning, four together,
first time in years we all are here:
Best-Beloved, sad eyed lady,
maker of donuts and hi-test coffee,
sings a bit, weeps, smiles;
the Exile returns, hoodied, shy smiling,
coffee in hands, and heart full of plans;
and Carborundum Starshine bursts in the door,
in corduroy & goofy hat,
Paul Bunyan beard & glitter cheeks;
and i
am here.
Talk and cookies, hugs and pictures,
Merry merry, the peace-pipe passed,
carols on the radio,
the scents of spruce and tangerines.
the "week between" a roller coaster,
t-shirts one day, parkas the next,
wind that moans like Marley's ghost,
and snow tornados on the road.
new year's eve and big soft snowflakes,
sparkling lights and laughing shouts--
on the street, drunken kisses and auld lang syne--
but not for me, i listen only;
there's work tomorrow, quick to bed,
a brief flight,
all-night jazz
and sleep.
time tomorrow to begin again.
(1-1-14)
Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 6:44 PM UTC
I cannot forever be walking on this gravel,
This glass shingle
Grating beneath my bare soles.
A translucent beach
Of insurmountable rage
That I navigate warily
Fearing the tide.
And yet still I walk these well worn paths,
Tracing my ****** footprints
That mar the crystal beauty
Of this terrible coast.
Aug 2, 2013
Aug 2, 2013 at 5:50 PM UTC
One of my most vivid memories of us is that one time we were on the phone and you told me you felt uneasy because, your friend Morgan said that everyone changes.
She said no one ever stays the same, and with enough time, you'll become a whole new person.
You said this to me warily, I guess I stood quiet for more than I should've because you then softly muttered "are you gonna change?"
Of course I swore I wouldn't. And I meant it. I really meant it when I said I wouldn't change. WE wouldn't. It'd always be like this.
Late night talks on the phone, exploring the universe within our own minds, opening every door and walking in every aisle inside each other, carefully peeking into the cracks in the walls and kissing them better.
That night you said that you loved me so much, you felt the need to open the window and shout it at the whole world. You wanted all Paris to hear it.
If it was true love, how could it change?
Laying against you in bed felt right. Like we had grooves and keys carved into our bodies that aligned us together perfectly, like it was supposed to be like this.
It felt like we were the lucky ones. The lucky two that, against all the odds, found each other in the sea of hearts of the world.
But the years went by as they do
And slowly the fire started to cool down
We memorized the way in and out of the labyrinth of our bodies.
Weirdly, the grooves and keys that snuggled us so closely together before, didn't seem to fit all that well anymore.
We didn't realize that time had put new cracks on our walls.
Some doors were closed and others were opened. I guess We were lazy to remap the whole thing, or maybe we didn't even notice.
But we kept walking the same way in and out every time. It grew... Tideous.
Without me realizing, you stopped shouting your love for me to Paris.
And When I turned my head and looked behind, it seemed like it was just a faint whisper.
After that, all I could hear was the echo.
To be honest, I was mad for a long time. Thinking that you let everything die. That our hands didn't fit together like they used to because you didn't care to make it right.
But Lately I'm thinking that, it's not that you didn't care. It's not that I did something wrong. It's surely not a matter of true love, because it was.
No, we didn't let it die
We just... changed.
I guess Morgan was right.
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 12:58 AM UTC
Don't quest, like a hunter, for romance,
Pursuing prey, cunningly, to its lair,
Eyes stung by lust,
Quiver unslung to unleash arrows
Blindly, to win a heart.
At quests end, coveted trophies are lost,
Smothered to lose their free spirit,
Or flitting away, out of reach.
Is romance not a dance of equals,
Equally paced,
Equally poised,
Equally purposed?
Two hunted souls, warily learning trust.
The hunter often catches the prey,
And yet, still loses the game.
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 1:37 PM UTC
3:30 on the train—
it seems so dark these days:
these days
when grass withers
on my footsteps, when thoughts
of you—you, the flame of my lighthouse,
the sail of my ocean—drift and
hang, warily, in the murky air.
3:30 on the train—
another day, rustling through the
dark, without you.
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 5:49 PM UTC
Rolling thunder, closely followed by lightning.
A storm is near, all normalcy goes out the window.
The droplets make a soft pitter-patter on the
Stark, midnight concrete.
Inlaid with the tears:
Of college students,
Business professionals,
Homeless wanderers.
The salty droplets create a ripple effect in the water.
A man driving
We are always in a rush
He hits the puddle who hits
The little old lady
Our destinations become blurred
As the torrential downpour ensues.
People, including me,
COMPLAIN
GRUMBLE
No eye contact walking warily, wayward down the street.
But sometimes, maybe,
the clouds in a storm bring
Peace, maybe
Clarity, maybe
Presence. It may be.
Sometimes there’s a rainbow
Look for that.
Dec 23, 2019
Dec 23, 2019 at 2:44 PM UTC
"why don't you,"
said the Lofty Man
warily considering me,
*"sing of the Sublime
the Grand, The Divine?
Sing you of the Uncommon
the Mystery
of the Spiritual, the Religious
of the Incomprehensible -
why don't you?"*
"Cos," I said,
pushing the toothpick
between my teeth
(the ****** food bits always get stuck in between),
*"I've been
to the mountain top there
and I've seen the Sublime
is just O so, so Common
so battered Trivial"*
(Then I spat out the food bits -
O it was Divine Bliss, just like in post-coital)
Feb 8, 2013
Feb 8, 2013 at 4:45 AM UTC
Merrily
And warily
The girl does spin around
Jubilantly
Exuberantly
The girl does hum a sound
A face
Of grace
And slightly comical
Her hair be blonde
Her eyes be blue
With a tiny pointed nose
Freckles dance upon her face
Like music from another place
Where she's from no one knows
From a world
Of little black lines
The girl does find
Another life
Jan 21, 2011
Jan 21, 2011 at 1:53 PM UTC
"Tread with caution
Construction ahead"
The sign passes behind her
Lost to ecstasy and joy
She crashes through
Brush and thicket
On dream-paved paths
To where the little white cottage stands
Spit-cleaned and rag-polished
Waiting
"Caution-sinkholes
Beware fragile earth"
She slows her pace
Bouncing slightly
Till the ground caves in
She leaps as earth sinks at her heels
Consuming her spirit
Leaving dirt on her knees
And the little white cottage stands
Cobwebbed and dust-lined
Waiting
"Beware- cliff ahead
High tide, rough waters"
She approaches warily
The dirt still caked
To the soles of her shoes
But ignores the sign
Arrives unprepared
The cliff comes as sudden as a drop
Land to air in seconds split
Frozen water breaking her fall
And the little cottage stands
Stone-cracked and rain-streaked
Waiting
"Danger- falling rocks
Avalanche prone zone"
The water drags at her fingers
As she crawls to the shore
Huddled under the cliff
Overhang so close
She can smell the mossy wear
Water-clogged she fails to hear
The rumble of stones
Till they crash to the ground
And the little cottage stands
Foggy-black and death-caked
Waiting
"Construction Site-
Building in progress"
The stones crash against her
Down to the sand
She falls to her knees
Pinned by the boulders
With the weight on her shoulders
She remembers the signs
But wishes she remembered sooner
And the water takes her
As the little black cottage stands
Time-worn and wind-torn
Waiting for the future
Never to come
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 3:09 PM UTC
Lucid in a lush landscape, baked by burning Savanna sun
The undeveloped endlessness all encompassing
My feet sink into the tender tissue
Of Green Mother and Infinite Father’s lovechild
The watering hole is overpopulated with thirsty families
Suspiciously inspecting the albino primate
I make undeterred deliberate steps skirting hydration
Drawn to his penetrating and omniscient orbs
A genuflect to show respect, my head bowed and gaze on ground
The mighty titan mimicked me and extended peaceful welcome
Gradually I rose and full-figured, approached
Warily, minding his twin osteoscimitars
Hello friend, he said
I heard you coming from several years away
I have been waiting for you
In a thousand forms and figures as the shadowy shapes you doubted
But Wisdom, how?
Baffled now, as I follow worn creases of age
That line his cracked and withered face and date his hardened hide
Come see yourself as I see you, he said
For we are as old as your mind is young
And he led me to the liquid, still and reflective
My own visage now ancient
You often sought me out, and I never hid
But I always came too late
I am with you in every action
Every success and every mistake
I was your hand when you learned to hold on
And your ears when you learned to listen
I was your adrenaline when you lost control
And your uncut blood tunnels when you learned to live
I was your arms when you hugged a forgiving embrace
And the nausea you felt when you lied
I did not mourn you when you died and scattered
For you returned to me as many; come, we have much to teach and learn
We will raise the bulls of a generation
Without another word, I mounted sacred pachyderm
And we became a vortex for wandering energy universal and fluid
The venerable sage and I rode as equals through the night
The savanna sky resting its tired eye at last
Jun 2, 2011
Jun 2, 2011 at 6:36 PM UTC