"xliii" poems
Reading the works by Sally, Vicki, Catherine(SoulSurvivor), Ryn, Deborah, Elizabeth, and Pamela Rae, is akin to drinking champagne from a crystal flute. Me, cheap beer from a Mason Jar.
copyright:(revised) June 03, 2015
Jun 2, 2015
Jun 2, 2015 at 7:38 AM UTC
XLIII
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,—I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
4.2k
In my "Thought for the Day XLIII" (43), I spoke of poets that have been with me, and supported me for quite some time. Sally and Pradip have been with me since my first posting, "1894", nearly two years ago, and I have "adopted" Vicki, Catherine, Ryn, Deborah, Pamela Rae,and others along the way. There is Quinn, Phil, Pradip, Francie, Frankie J, Mike, John, Nat, SE Reimer, Sverre, "The 'Ole Storyteller!" and,"Larry, Moe, and Curly Joe!"
Unfortunately, I cannot list everyone, in fear of overlooking writers who, collectively, mean so much to me. Please forgive me for that.
I will continue to "do my best" for all of the poets/writers/contributors to the HP site. I do not write for monetary remuneration, but for relaxation and recreation, with the end result, hopefully, bringing a smile to my peers. I thank all of you for allowing me to attempt, and occasionally, reach that goal.
Sincerely
Richard Riddle- June 03, 2015
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 9:35 AM UTC
Another bad dream...
The five of us were at Disneyland.
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 2:27 AM UTC
dear basil,
regret is useless
learn the lesson and move on
blow out the candle next time
don't go to auditions alone ever again
call your friends more
live outside of your head sometimes
don't wait for her to find someone else
because you're scared of rejection
make a wish before you blow out your birthday candles
write down that thought stuck in your head
don't wait until 10 pm to start that movie on a school night
but it's okay if you want to turn back time a little
just as long as you learn why
love,
basil
Oct 31, 2021
Oct 31, 2021 at 5:54 PM UTC
Dices que nada se pierde
y acaso dices verdad,
pero todo lo perdemos
y todo nos perderá.
804
Sonnet XLIII: How Do I Love Thee?
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 2:00 AM UTC
With trembling hands, I reach for your palms
Remembering our first touch
The terrible human hands I have
long for the glorious oddities of yours
You are my sin
and mostly my redemption
Late at night I try to resist
Thoughts of our firsts drown me
Like lighting my last cigarette
and secretly wishing I had another pack in my pocket
You are the worst kind of hangover
One that I swear to God I will tell my poetry about
Your lips are as breathtaking as the heaven they promised
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 5:55 PM UTC
Dejé la luz a un lado, y en el borde
de la revuelta cama me senté,
mudo, sombrío, la pupila inmóvil
clavada en la pared.¿Qué tiempo estuve así? No sé; al dejarme
la embriaguez horrible del dolor,
expiraba la luz y en mis balcones
reía al sol.Ni sé tampoco en tan horribles horas
en qué pensaba o qué pasó por mí;
sólo recuerdo que lloré y maldije,
y que en aquella noche envejecí.
587
Today became today
Yesterday came and gone
Tomorrow never showed up
Later became soon
Eventually never came to realization
Time became stuck
Frozen in an endless vortex
Aug 13, 2010
Aug 13, 2010 at 6:36 AM UTC
I'm trying to fill a cavernous gap within my heart.
I think it's leaking from the bottom; I was finished from the start.
Liquor and cigarettes just slip out between the gaps.
I keep on trying but the effort's insufficient in comparison to what I lack.
I'll carry onward I'm a man and I know my roll,
but I'm running out of fire, I'm alone and it's getting cold.
I'll keep on drinking and smoking, pathetic attempt to fill the space;
But I'm not going anywhere, feels like I'm running in place.
Maybe the whiskey kills me, I think that'd be just fine.
Either way the cigarettes will kick in after time.
I know I could use a little help in filling up the holes,
but everybody dies alone; at least that's what I'm told.
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 9:48 PM UTC
The ones that bore me,
They are now no more,
The rest by each other,
They look on, unaware;
The past few moons,
For me have been tempestuous,
Navigating economy subtleties,
Around the harshness of present realities;
Sometimes my heart protests,
Send me a-clutching,
Reminds me in no mean terms,
Each beat is to pampered and nurtured;
Looking around me,
Is there anything lacking,
Yes, certainly there are,
And of course plenty to be grateful for;
So, laying here with my thoughts,
The moonshine barely casting a shadow,
Ticking closer, every second by every minute,
Toward the hour of hearty returns.
Mar 13, 2023
Mar 13, 2023 at 5:50 PM UTC
XXXVI.
because you really don't want to hurt them you just still cant believe that anyone cares enough to be hurt when you hurt yourself
XXXVII.
because every new year you say you'll get better and you don't you still don't know if you should be independent of arbitrary dates that you trust so much even if they've never helped you
XXXIII.
because it hurts so much either way
XXXIV.
you'll just have to decide which you prefer
XXXV.
because you really gotta put more faith in rough drafts
XXXVI.
because you always want everything to be perfect but you know by now it won't be
XXXVII.
because these thoughts don't even really scare you anymore or maybe you're used to being afraid, but you know you'll stay, even if this place is unchanging
XXXVIII.
because that's only half the battle sometimes,
this times its not even that
XXXIX.
because you've never been this close to both life and death at the same time
XL.
because you're not afraid anymore to make rash decision you think you should fear what might happen because of that
XLI.
because, for now, the solution- the next step, is changing everything
XLII.
because until now changing has only meant covering up better
XLIII.
because maybe you can get better on your own, and maybe you can't
XLIV.
but the point is if you reach out you will never know if you could have done this independently, but if you cant do it on your own and you still try,
XLV.
because I know,
it's okay to reach out for help but,
is it okay to hold on?
Dec 29, 2015
Dec 29, 2015 at 9:03 PM UTC
carrion swells
amassed hoard
cemented shutters
itching hellions' fingernails
mansion fever
Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 1:53 AM UTC
Un signo tuyo busco en todas las otras,
en el brusco, ondulante río de las mujeres,
trenzas, ojos apenas sumergidos,
pies claros que resbalan navegando en la espuma.
De pronto me parece que diviso tus uñas
oblongas, fugitivas, sobrinas de un cerezo,
y otra vez es tu pelo que pasa y me parece
ver arder en el agua tu retrato de hoguera.
Miré, pero ninguna llevaba tu latido,
tu luz, la greda oscura que trajiste del bosque,
ninguna tuvo tus diminutas orejas.
Tú eres total y breve, de todas eres una,
y así contigo voy recorriendo y amando
un ancho Mississippi de estuario femenino.
373
Raindrops tap against my window,
a steady rhythm
that lulls me to restlessness,
'cause the rain is my only friend,
and what a pity it would be
to miss what she has to say.
So I lay awake
while I let my friend pour rivers,
soddening the streets
with a swash of release,
and how I wish I could, too,
make a downpour so heavy,
a whirring so liberating,
because tears prove to be
far less effective.
Jun 12, 2019
Jun 12, 2019 at 1:07 AM UTC
XLIII: III
they found his corpse in his house;
blue-lipped and asphyxiated on his cold hard good fortune
Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 1:52 AM UTC
the precipice reached
ingot underfoot
pick-ing the riches
return to surface
the deepest breath
Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 1:53 AM UTC