Showing posts with label Consciousness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Consciousness. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
... in the hands of the maker
These feet trodden , benumbed ,
the pang of crystalline frost heaves
each step taken in effort to draw nearer ,
me weak in the knees
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Quiet Repose......(4:20)
sighs too deep for words
exhale purging stifling bemoaned disquiet
understanding silent sounds misunderstood mien
Harlon Rivers
Saturday, April 13, 2013
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vividly retell when it was as if there was no longer
valid reasons to believe, as forward steps circled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
when thoughts of mere baby steps was existence
There are days spent suspended
at friendless crossroads,
overwhelmed by indecision’s
daunting toll,
daunting toll,
only to take the wrong turns
foolishly pushed by a faith
in the winds of change
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;
overshadows an uncompleted journey;
a misunderstood lifetime
spanning the cradle to the grave.
spanning the cradle to the grave.
All the while,
slowly growing to understand,
slowly growing to understand,
it is better to accept
you may never be certain
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 . . .
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,
to the silent stillness within,
realizing you never will...
Sunday, March 17, 2013
The Space Between Thunder and Lightening
Have you ever thought about the space between? Recently I sat writing a list of such things... This is a poem about what can go on during the moment between thunder and lightening~
For me, creative writing is a type of subjective practical magic for the times when imagination knows no boundaries limiting access to dreams of other realms ~
It may surprise you how many you can come up with if you made your list. So as the list grew, so did emotive thoughts expanding upon what the distance is or what it can mean to us....
Okay so things like the space between a rose bud and a blooming rose...planting a seed and then waiting for the harvest, the first step in a journey and then arriving at a destination, the space between love & hate, birth & the passing of life, black & white, The silk cocoon & the Butterfly, the moon & the earth etc...
The space is as infinite as the list of possibilities. In this case I was thinking about the silent void between a visual bolt of Lightening and the Thunderclap breaking that silence...how many times I have waited in that "space", that sense of being stuck in "limbo" while counting the distance between...
From ~ Word Whisperer ~
The Space between Thunder and Lightening
Standing at the threshold in the silent space
between thunder and lightening
Straddling the door sill of uncertainty,
stranded in a continuum of discontent
One foot in…One foot out
A baby step…One foot forward
while the other follows
the wanderlust of an evolving dream
The first step begins
a journey of a thousand miles
Walk to the end of this long and winding road
Carry the weight of an unfinished life in this soul
Breathe in the stillness
of the tempest calm
The ethereal instant within
the eerie pause of natural hesitation
The silent exhilarating fusion linking the anticipation
between the bolt of lightning and the thunderclap ;
nature’s well performed sleight of hand
as if two souls touch igniting carnal synthesis
Reaching upward to the heavens they draw strength
from the spirit of the lightening and the hail,
The ominous sky’s anger and the storm’s fury fuel the essence of their verve
vibrant celestial elements manifests a drenching downpour
Heightened senses are enhanced by an electric aura
squeezing out every last drop
from the enchanting moment of stunned silence
Spirits transcend a cleansing rain invigorating heart of soul ~
©Harlon Rivers 2013 ...February 28th, 2013
Saturday, February 23, 2013
~ Silently Thinking Out Loud ~
...when I started other chapters to the Word Whisperer Poetry blog, at the time I hoped Soul Journey would become the most read and have evolved with me as a person...Admittedly neither has happened so I am going to reopen and try again... "Silently Thinking Out Loud" was a poem written last April of 2012 during a time I felt like I was getting back on track
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"Silently Thinking Out-loud"
We are both
Blessed
and Burdened
by the empowering
responsibility of making our life choices
The path taken
is our journey’s evidence
fraught
with opportunities to reclaim
our soul's influence of selecting options
We may choose our
response
to what ever
obstacles
our pathway may incur
We may
resist
and loathe
the difficult moments
in life
We will find the valor
to evolve into
the conscious moment's dimension
free to be the moment
Blessed by the Burden
of truth...
Burdened by the doubters
needing proof...
Compassionate understanding
liberated by choosing presence
Life here and now...
©
2012 Harlon Rivers ... All Rights Reserved
Written ~ April 7th, 2012
Sunday, January 13, 2013
Doubters vs Believers
Sometimes a first step starts a journey of 10,000 steps...It can be logical to question…doubt. But sooner or later moments of motion transcend fear within doubt, liberating belief in our actions…
a poem by Harlon Rivers
"Doubters" and "Believers" are polar opposites,
like North is of South
Yet there is a little of both East and West in everyone
The protagonist versus the antagonists, a stalemate of the middle,
neutralizing fire and ice into water
Doubt fosters uncertainty and disbelief darkening optimism
of hopeful illumination of brighter pathways.
Belief in humanity cultivates faith into new beginnings,
brighter moments, hopeful tomorrows.
Finding inner peace and balance awakens devotion to hope.
brighter moments, hopeful tomorrows.
Finding inner peace and balance awakens devotion to hope.
Fidelity of unseen gravity is grounding
Trust is found through sincerity, authenticity, and yet
doubters hazy indistinctness muddles the enlightenment
of confidence that the long and twisting road
does not come to a dead end
just around the unseen bend in the pathway
Significance of ideals can not be discovered
until insignificance renders us into
an egoless thought of a speck of dust
As the volcanic flow of significance in thought immerges
from the dust, it builds the doubters dome into belief
as if seeing becomes believing transforming ambiguity
into definable reflections of faith in love.
Nothing is inevitable except to know the circle of life is a circle.
There is likely only one complete, complex journey around
and only we can choose which crossroad to turn upon.
To dream of doubt concludes the final dead end corner.
To be a dream believer cultivates eternal faith in hope...
© 2012 Harlon Rivers
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Cupid's Broken Arrow
Some things we learn so slowly... Some things we never learn... Some things we learn the hard way... The only way to survive a broken heart is to leave Cupid's broken arrow and hope it heals with a scar before it drips and drains all remaining life from your heart...
The spell was cast by memory
With the wanderlust of a rolling stone
Traces of broken dream’s dust and ashes
Fell like love cast out with a claustrophobic moan
A broken heart could not convince me
Every heart has not a home
Into a world without an island to feel a tranquil peace
Born of mother earth, into a race where faded memories were erased
Journeying out into an unknown raging sea, before learning to walk the land
Dreams of some lost abandoned safe haven, an illusion
Welcoming shorelines were never discovered by this soulful man
A world where what’s lost is rarely found
Where square pegs never fit the round
When the die is cast from molten life
It cools and forms flesh and bone
Insignificance, abandoned, left feeling like a heart without a home
In the end the faded memory is chiseled and scribed on some forgotten mossy stone.
In a distance I hear the eerie silence
The ship's final soul has sailed on a windless sea
Drifting infinite fathoms, the icon of a loveless being, another random lifetime lived,
like a lonely sunken ship of treasures, lost in the darkness undersea.
like a lonely sunken ship of treasures, lost in the darkness undersea.
I’ll walk another endless mile always knowing,
there will never be a home for my heart in the world ahead of me.
Reborn into a world where every passing thought becomes a fading dream
Love may be the last gasping breath left unbreathed
Belonging is a walking contradiction of my self esteem
Oh! heart and soul be set free...
Exhausted and weary of struggles, forsaken by gravity
No longer resisting the absolute surrender, the final choice that sets your soul free...
© 2012 Harlon Rivers… September 27th, 2012
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Final Sunday Silence
Final Sunday
Silence
As I search
for the light
In this
too familiar room
The
darkness won't let me
Find the
switch I assumed
I feel
for the walls
That
confine this lurid space
They seem
so distant
Too often
I feel misplaced
Where is
that cracked door
Where the
light gets in?
I know I
have found it here before
Lurking
in the shadows naively veiled by sin
As
darkness consumes me
I feel
for my soul
Am I back
here again?
In the
darkest of holes?
The room
is so chilling here
As a
candle’s flicker dims
It’s wick
so very short now
That all
wax is consumed
This once
was a sanctuary
With
people who cared
A refuge
for the hopeless
Who
willingly shared
The
stench of haunting silence
Now
deafens my mind
A
journey’s full circle now,
As a
faded memory preys on what’s left behind…
Where
once there was love
Darkness
and eerie silence fills the air
A stone
cold feeling overwhelms me
Knowing
love can vanish without warning…
Disappearing…
into thin air~
Harlon
Rivers…Sunday, February 13th, 2011
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
vocal chimera
... a poem by Harlon Rivers... from the Whispering Moon Beams poetry blog ~
... understand this moment has come to just write what you feel… don’t ever let anyone say what you believe you feel is wrong ~
... calling out my name
from the far off distance,
an enchanting tone of voice
came to me in a dream ...
what if I was heard from another realm?
my soul screaming
into the silence of the night?
... answering just wouldn't matter
when there is no one listening …
... awakened …
by a throaty voice
breaking the silence of slumber
... quietly standing tall
unable to escape from a dream
that’s already come and gone …
... believing in something hard enough
does not make it true
ignorance of some portion of the truth
only makes you slightly aware
no matter how crystal clear
the vivid truth becomes…
whether you are taking
the placebo or the medication
... perception heals all wounds
answering rhetorical questions out loud
left me alone at dawn
stranded like a black sheep
banished from the fold …
... questions aren't really questions
when the answers are already known
misunderstanding the literal
erroneously innocent out of unawareness
seems like getting lost
taking the wrong road home ...
taking the wrong road home ...
© 2012 Harlon Rivers
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
A Long Way Inward
© 2012 Harlon Rivers
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A Long Way Within
It’s a long way across rivers wide
A lifetime from shore to rocky shoal
It’s difficult to envision that the earth is turning round
While leering blindly, lost in the womb of time
It’s been a long way from way back then to here and now
An unfinished journey from the cradle to the grave
When the mind can’t see tomorrow,
The stars won’t guide you home
It’s a long march up the proverbial hill
A long way across to other distant rock-strewn spires
The possibilities are vast and yet the pathway is unknown
It’s a long mile to carry the weight of that load
The road is long since the embryo of the dawn
Over the hills and far away
Glowing light at the end of the tunnel remains undefined
Until you take that final imminent earthly stride headed home
We’ll never ascend to the highest mountain peaks
Through faithless, fleeting stabs in the dark
Standing on the brink of a precipice
Just a step away leaves one hanging by a thread
There’s a distinct ulterior boundary wall
Looming in the vista beyond
Patient perception unveils the cosmic distance
Witnessing the sphere of life's evolution, through the spirit from within…
© 2012 Harlon Rivers
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