Proverbial Walls

Whether kept at arms length or ten thousand miles away, 

Irrelevant still feels the same...

 an original "Word Whisperer" chapter

A poem by Harlon Rivers

It’s a long way up and over that proverbial wall 

to explore the dark side of the moon

Lessons lesions left scars years ago,

still leaving the unresolved tracks of my tears.

Some things we learn so slowly

and yet moments fade past like the shadow of a dream



Whether kept at arms length

or ten thousand miles away,

Irrelevant still feels the same.

You saw me naked through a prism

The light of sober truth knows no refracted disguise

It cannot be blocked by disbelief’s fading light



There was a time when

being simplehearted and true blue

was something relevant to be.

But then came fallacies of blame

Remorse for misguided shame

Allowing dark imperfections to be seen.


The boundary walls

are fortified castles in the air.

The mote is deep and wide

When building bridges fail,

your tall tower walls

have got to fall some day.



While dusting off the confusion from a vanshing dream,

I feel like a lost stray dawg,

fetching a barbed wire bone.

Too hungry to know

that what the illusion of love showed

was only teasingly toying with me



Your fortress walls are a maze of protective halls

Unrequited love is a tethered ball and chain

Ignore a stray dog and it’ll disappear

Back to the solitude where sleeping dogs run free...

Don’t throw him a barbed wire bone just because he’s starving.

He’ll howl from the dark side of the brokenhearted moon, 

when your done just  set him free... 

© 2012 Harlon Rivers 

Listening for Some Light

“Listening for Some Light”

Everybody is looking

for some light; redemption is

deafened by the blinding glare

Squeezing the last drop out 

from within

stunned cold silence

Throwing the dice;

blindly rolling

circle of life roulette

Once there was a way

for wild eyes gone blind,

to learn to see again

Once there was a way

to see beyond

an empty space too big to fill

What will become of love

if we keep it 

hidden?

Walking away fighting shadows;

while what won’t matter

always remains

What is lost is gone forever;

what is found is

yours to keep

The distance between

what is and what isn't overshadows,

the symmetry you want to free

© 2013 … Harlon Rivers

Accepting Solitude in an Unfinished Life...A chapter from "The Diary of the Falling Dominoes" by Harlon Rivers

Sometimes change happens so fast you don’t even notice . . .however accepting life's changes as reality, can be a slow and self-loathing process . . . we are always as blind as we want to be.
Regrets are a waste of time that can leave you standing alone at the crossroads at the end of that day when the sun goes down. . .

Many footprints are left behind

the countless miles of pathways

traveled throughout an unfinished life.

Barefoot traces of past now’s

wind through the ashes,

as the smoldering embers 

of a turbulent past boundlessly linger.

Oppressive signs of crawling 

on bruised and battered knees 

remain in the dusty wake,

knowing that the squandered energy

trying to shed this calloused skin was wasted in vain

Black and white snapshots frozen in time,

vividly retell when it was as if there was no longer 

valid reasons to believe, as forward steps circled

Unable to beckon the strength

to rise from kneeling on bended knees

with the resolve to stand humbly tall, 

while walking towards the faltering light

Hesitation mired hopeful new strides

crossing the uncharted threshold 

into the void reaching beyond nebulous darkness

There were times when blisters bled raw

and thread bare socks wrung red

Holes in the soles of worn out boots

overwhelmed an unforgettable crippling agony

Distraction numbed the forgotten heartbreak

that enshrouded life, reducing life back

to the beginning  miles, 
when thoughts of mere baby steps was existence

There are days spent suspended

at friendless crossroads,

overwhelmed by indecision’s 
daunting toll,

only to take the wrong turns

foolishly pushed by a faith 
in the winds of change

The low road was recklessly chosen 

Where the shade in the shadows

of the gutter would not hide the burning ache

Days of running blissfully free upon the high road

were short-lived, as the loneliness of isolation

became too much weight to bear 

Infinitely searching for an ambiguous sense

of ever belonging, as it evolved 

into an unattainable destiny.

A  emotionally perplexing feeling 
overshadows an uncompleted journey;

a misunderstood lifetime 
spanning the cradle to the grave.

All the while, 
slowly growing to understand,

it is better to accept 
you may never be certain

you harmonize anywhere,

than trusting the mind made illusion, 

thinking you do.

One day you may awaken to discover. . . 
There becomes a need to cope with 
the disappointment when life unveils 
the end of the day . . .

In a conscious moment of listening 
to the silent stillness within, 

realizing you never will...

Coyote Moon

The sultry summer midnight hour came and went as the full moon's illumination magnified the sun scorched fields of forevermore...a free form prose narrative with cultural influences... A Coyote Moon chapter by Harlon Rivers written to commemorate the last Blue Moon  August 31st,  2012

The sultry summer midnight hour
came and went as the full moon's illumination
magnified the sun scorched fields of forevermore.
The air was so thick through the waist high brambles,
that you could cut it with the Kaiser Blade.
It's a burdensome task to carry that weight,
but the ancient tool was adorned proudly
with an old Tatanka leather shoulder sling.
It was willingly carried by the native warrior, 

defending his passage against the prickles 

of Mother Earth’s barbed cane’s shield.

A natural place where the fusion of subsistence and survival 

are plucked from the thorny sweetbriars

sustaining humble existence.

The shadow from the, exiled silhouette staggered
into the edge of the vast amber wheat field.
A cloud of unsettled dust rose like a twisting dirt devil
in the wake of fluid movement

The traces of footsteps quietly crackled in the dry grass.
Coyote was going there...

The woven willow satchel overflowed

with a fragrant sweetness
The damp Bota bag moistened the wanderer's parched, 

gritty cotton mouth, coughing uncontrollably

as the powdery earth moved the stagnant air
Subtly stirring from the startling motion.
The figure’s unaccompanied shadow stumbled…
stopping to rest on the lone flat rock
enlightened by the glimmering moon light.

All of the panorama vista’s  inhabitants
hushed their free spirited chatter.
Immediately sensing healing energy,
becoming undetectable, soundless listeners.
Instantly silenced by the sound vibration
of the intruders clumsy movement.
Moments passed in starlit stillness
as a shooting star’s tailing, fading shimmer, flickered
like that final moment when the boisterous crack
of the last thunder clap's clamor
decays into total eerie dark silence.

The only audible sound
was that of dusty lungs rattling and wheezing
as if death were near,
and yet it was only a mind made illusion

The exhausted intruder labored
to breathe the hazy night air
in the humid, sweaty stillness.
The beat of his unraveling heart
thundered in his chest without fear.
Eyes of a soul were mesmerized
by a halo around the moon
evolving from the radiant
swirling moon dust of a solar tempest.
Constellations glowing effervescence,
illuminated the silhouette within the shadows.

Firefly's transcend, disappearing into a starlit oasis
The aura of the spirit of the Coyote Moon
had symbolic crescent shaped ears,
able to hear and comprehend every ethereal
wordless sigh breathed.
Inaudible thoughts and sounds
echoed mystically in silent reflections
The essence of every exhaled breath
was an emotional release, coherently revealing
a wholehearted awakening life,
in route to vivid understanding.

Taking ownership of choices
made on life's journey 

paths followed brought relief from sufferance 

in search of peaceful solitude. 

The defining instance lingered
in a final moment of merciful surrender.
No longer fighting unnatural forces,
emotions were absolved, vanishing  into the universe.
All purpose is awakening into the present moment.
Set free like dust dissipated by the fluid wind

The reality of the cost of the toll paid
by a lost and forgotten soul,
enduring man made stigmas,
rooted delusions of missing earthly time served.
Never surrendering to self fulfilled prophecy,
the release of poignant emotional energy
into the sultry surreal air, heightened awareness.
The ethereal energy brought the dramatic howling Coyote to his feet!
Breaking silence... celebrating his nocturnal freedom
with the man in the moon...
The sounds of silence came alive...

Yip yip Awoooh...

© 2012, 2013 Harlon Rivers