... in the hands of the maker

These feet trodden , benumbed ,
enslaved by the weight of the load
loamy earth no longer soft , supple ,
forgiving of cold tender feet

the pang of crystalline frost heaves
beneath winter moss
ache as if walking barefoot
on frigid rocky ground

each step taken in effort to draw nearer ,
apportion the distance between a place once so closely embraced,
                      and yet ,
                      now the distance appears so wide

the gravity of the metaphysical makes

me weak in the knees
                     I drop down and kiss the wintry ground
                     knowing all my cares 

                                   lie frozen far below ...

the scent of burning sage
                      and
                    sweetgrass permeates the chill ,
                    smoke rising like mist 

                    into the mystic

a healing smudge carefully brushed with reverence ,
an abounding LOVE cleansing in this earth ,
                  the atmosphere stirs ,

                  I feel the muted words'                           silence emanating in the air

... knowing I’m not a stranger

    in the hands of the maker

© Harlon Rivers ...December 9th, 2013

Kayak...the karma of rivers' flow

Kayak...the karma of rivers flow

wild waters call out their names
an ancient spirit within souls beckons
subtle utterance only heard
by the muse of adventure within
scholars of the poetic minutiae
wild water’s flow

cadence imbibes the river
the artisan glides
inertia of motion
dances with water
aplomb reader
of untamed water’s nuances

yin and yang
natural cause and effect
rollicks with the intricacies of flow
understanding beneath the turbulent surface
spontaneity with the gifts of naturalness
riding gravity's pull

go with the flow mantra
as water seeks its own level
springs from mountain high peaks
cascades, plummets, falls
the long journey back home
all at sea

Harlon Rivers

October 13, 2013

Note: big believer in do unto mantra, so this poem was written for and mused by a friend... and our unlikely moment with this simple photograph ... maybe you will help me read the water better...Stands Proud with Heart on Sleeve

Quiet Repose......(4:20)

quiet repose yields inner stillness


sighs too deep for words

exhale purging stifling bemoaned disquiet


understanding silent sounds misunderstood mien



Harlon Rivers

...without poetic breath's resuscitation

This restless day without poetic sway,
it seems the summer's sunsets paused
changing contentment's colour
the cavort under full moon soon forgotten
as poetic timbre wanes of the harmony
within her aspect’s breeze;
the empty stillness within
tides continuum ebbs
the hollow stare ricochets,
echoing back to the sea’s margin;
wanton thoughts of dandle now bane
when the west wind sighed,
then covered the tangled up sands
as if  lust stained sheets
regret’s final traces,
once heard blissfully exhaled
intimate breath's heart song.
~
set the sails,
yet again,
the prevailing winds of change
a’ stirring

unfold the paper sails
hoist the halyard
&
“come about”

restless rivers suffuse
all at sea ~

© harlon rivers …2013

July 2013   Waxing Gibbous Moon  11 day(s) old
Moon in Sagittarius ... Sun in Cancer
Being a Sagittarius I have to wonder after my last 2 days ~

I suffocate,
I digress
I've regressed.
I’ve retrogressed
without fresh breaths
I'm gasping
for
a poetic resuscitation

The Low Anthem - "Charlie Darwin" .....(awesome  song and video)

how fickle remorse ...snippet 11.0

..."independence" is a concept by which we measure the breadth of our indivisible cage

...how fickle remorse ....snippet 11.0

quietly she sighs 
from the darkness
purging the shadows

as unlied words wept

her unsullied tears stain
these hidden scars of torn
rousing conflicted heart and soul


©Harlon Rivers

7.04.2013  ...Waning Crescent Moon 25 day(s) old


...snippets from thinking out loud
   to be continued

unrequited ...(12 word) snippet

the distance 
between restless pages 
speaks louder 
than spoken silence within words 

"breaking silence"..snippet 10

"breaking silence"..snippet 10

a square peg hovers atop a round hole..

silently the shape of angst

straddles..

the threshold of emptiness

passion astir speaks volumes..

those who wish to speak but are mute

sighs...

breaking silence

...snippets from a musing river's thinking out loud

to be continued...

© Harlon Rivers 2013…. All Rights Reserved.

"emotional reprise"... snippet 9.02

..an intoxicating elixir drifts;

honeysuckle's fragrant healing balm

has me drunken with ardent emotion ~

...when the heart is open every word has meaning
~ ~ ~

...it's not

building a rocket ship;

it’s only poetry

expecting to fly ♥

..snippets from a musing river's thinking out loud
...to be continued

© Harlon Rivers ...2013 

...purging ...snippet 8.0

"purging”

a river of tears may flood 

from love's ache... 

even a million raindrops

drawn by gravity’s,

yin and yang 

suffuse vast rivers wide 

always reaching 

oceans’s distant shores…

~ 

only tears can cleanse,

the dust and ashes 

that which verve of heart 

flung into the sea to purge...

echoes of the water’s healing balm 

calm the raging waves...

~   ~   ~

...snippets from a musing river's thinking out loud

to be continued...

© Harlon Rivers 2013…. All Rights Reserved.

"it's only water " snippet 7.0...

celestial bliss enshrouds

the quiet torn of the soul

terrestrial calm waters

seeking and finding its own level

essence

craving purpose to quench

an insatiable thirst,

whether the glass

is half empty or half full…

~

an evanescent wave

pounds the shoreline

before lapping

the rocky shoals

eroding the sands of time

evolving paragon

echoing being....

balancing tumultuous

ebb and flow

it's only water

wash over me...

author's note: an evanescent wave * tending to vanish*

...snippets from a musing river's thinking out loud

to be continued

snippets 6.0... "breathing" ...a musing rivers

...snippets from thinking out loud

snap shots from the infinite emotive tones 

in between black and white...

√...snippet 6.0

"breathing"

one day you wake up alone

no matter which way the wind blows;

but breathing has taught you,

there is never a breathe

you can afford to waste...

~

...snippets from thinking out loud

to be continued...

...just barely more than a breath ~ 

but less than a breathless whisper

snippets 5.0... "love" ...a musing rivers'

...snippets from thinking out loud

snap shots from the infinite emotive tones 

in between black and white...

√...snippet 5.0
"love"

love must come naturally 

if we've looked for it 

and never found it… 

it does not mean 

it does not exist ♥♥

~

look after love; 

be vigilant about its care…

Sometimes change happens 

so quickly you don’t even notice...

~

what would become of love 

if we keep it hidden (?)

~ 

Authors notes:

what would bring hope 
to where there once 
was none(!)

...snippets from thinking out loud 

to be continued…

© Copyright 2013…Harlon Rivers  

snippets 4.0 "understanding"...a musing rivers'

...snippets from thinking out loud

snap shots from the infinite emotive tones 

in between black and white...

√... snippets 4.0...

"understanding"

Any day now 

I felt the spirit 

of an angel hovering,

walking a country mile 

in these well-seasoned shoes...

 

you held my hand tightly 

knowing wind beneath wings

would set me free…

~

..

...snippets from thinking out loud 

to be continued…

© Copyright 2013…Harlon Rivers  

snippets 3.0... "pulse" ...a musing rivers'

...snippets from thinking out loud

snap shots from the infinite emotive tones 

in between black and white...

√...snippet 3.0..."pulse"

The Moon’s pulse

beats intimately

outside the bounds

…behind the veiled night

there’s much more stardust

when you’re near…

~

...snippets from thinking out loud 

to be continued…

© Copyright 2013…Harlon Rivers   

snippets 2.0... "color of ache"... a musing rivers'

...snippets from thinking out loud

snap shots from the infinite emotive tones 

in between black and white...

√...snippet 2.0..."color of ache"

not all wounds are visible

tears color an ache,

traces wish to be spoken..

the scar spills 

sighs 

too deep for words

muted by

all that wished they

had been loved…

~

...snippets from thinking out loud 

to be continued…

© Copyright 2013…Harlon Rivers  

snippets 1.0... "memories" ...a musing rivers'

...snippets from thinking out loud

snap shots from the infinite emotive tones 

in between black and white...

√...snippet 1.0..."memories"

Raindrops and memories

turned stormy Monday blue;

rainy day music drones

disappointment masked

the full moon’s reprise.

raindrops drip

from heavens cloak

masking solitude’s tears..

gravity is the weight

dimensionless time bears…

~

...snippets from thinking out loud 

to be continued…

© Copyright 2013…Harlon Rivers  

Mother's Sons

"It’s hard to go back to the beginning when you feel like you are walking on thin ice… sometimes we must go back to go forward"

Mother’s Sons

born and raised

rooted in bedrock

to carry that weight 

upward over 

the untrodden mountain

spirit's fervor 

once hatched 

on a flat rock;

birthed from primordial 

native earth

genesis dawns essential inception

mother womb 

bearing the fruit of the vine

flourishing the spirit

of quintessential love

newly awakened 

dawn emerges  

finding a thriving hope

arose from the dust and ashes

where it was once forgotten

the arisen seed bears

the strong stem of its ripened essence;

sons are like nurtured blossoms ,

returning as one whole 

flowering heart of soul...

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 

Watching the Sunset Fade

A Poem by Harlon Rivers

The anxiety of "Medical Limbo"

Time seems to stand still

while awaiting the moments anticipated news   

The mysteries of biology

The known weaknesses of the flesh  

Worrisome visions

that toy within fears

genetic foregone conclusions

that manifest as emotional anguish

The hope of new tomorrow’s wane

New moments dawning light dims

Thoughts of the circle

reaching the inevitable end of the song

A silent prayer for acceptance

for the things we cannot change

Courage to fight on for all life 

that remains as hope retains faith

Nothing is inevitable

as long as you want to breathe

You can’t stop the dreamer

from weaving the happiest

of unfulfilled dreams

Knowing completely you can’t stop

a runaway freight train

if the circle's tracks are complete

Physical trials and tribulations

bring you to your mortal knees

The angst of the vast unknown

Trepidation’s shadow is near

Life passes before

tearful yearning eyes,

lost in misunderstood confusion,

as realities uncertainty transcends fear

The final dream…

The only wish…

To not leave this world alone

To merge two passionate loving souls as one

Romantics dreams can come true

Unconditionally, wholeheartedly

together as one

before the merry-go-round’s

final setting sun… 

© 2012 Harlon Rivers