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The Healing Touch
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Apr 27, 2009 6:03 am
531 Views
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Where the love is strong comes the gift of song
That supplants the deafened ear
For this mode by much is the healing touch
That will make the deaf man hear
-Richard
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6
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That Dormant State Of Fugue
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Apr 26, 2009 4:33 am
486 Views
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Every shred of your fiber sings,
gone your chords into the infinite sky,
sounds ringing and resounding as true
as the north wind flute coursing
through worm holes in trees.
Piqued the ears of the stoneman,
in a heartbeat roused from the sleep
of a million lifetimes, joints creaking,
lungs filled to overflowing
with the sands of truculent time.
Choked back emotions unable to tear,
upon him unleashed your chords
with unfathomable force, sufficient vibrations
as to break his back, catapulted once more
into that dormant state of fugue,
forever out of fashion.
-Richard
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4
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An Eternal Knowing
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Apr 25, 2009 11:50 am
508 Views
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Beyond the passion which is unbridled,
knowing no bounds, there is also the gentleness,
the part of him that surprises...such tenderness
in his touch, playing you like a violin, your female
self awake and aware of the male in him
but all the while feeling the heart and the soul
which soothe and succor...
his mouth mere inches from your own, beyond words
spoken with sufficient ardor as to disrobe the very gods
themselves...words of comfort...touching on truths
that alarm, that disarm, taking away fears, removing tears...
inside the woman the little girl given every hope...
the promise of every tomorrow...allowed to dream
the seemingly impossible dreams...
a soothing felt like never before, tensions released...
a callused hand no more...the touch of silk on silk,
for the love implied and applied...sighs escaping from
your lips, the fullness and firmness of them...living the love
in the words of a poet smitten, oh yes, smitten, smitten
to the core...the object of his affections recipient
of his issuing and reassuring words, words that say it all...
his mouth mere inches from your own, his eyes
locked in with yours, his hand now cupping your glowing
face, the heat of you previously abated now resurging...
cheeks warm to the touch...a deeper uttering than words...
oh but a poet and a passion yet superseding...
words yet undenied...secrets and desires made known
in seductive tones...lips descending...
electric currents surging...two now merging as one
in the kiss of kisses...withdrawing...more words...
resuming...more heat...fiery flames erupting...your hands
now active as well...his mouth no longer inches from your own...
how not to be lost in this moment of moments...love solidified
and sanctified, caught up in the euphoria of loving's sweet embrace...
above and beyond the commonplace
the infused seductiveness of an eternal knowing!
-Richard
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6
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Spirit Of Love
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Apr 23, 2009 12:53 am
479 Views
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Spirit of Love, take from me the shadows,
not because I fear them but because
you can and I would know your light:
this is my prayer.
The freedom I seek speaks to me
of divining the sun and moving the moon,
stars before me to the borders of time:
this is my song.
Envisioned the vision with these eyes
advanced with years floaters to the front
causing confusion, to fear being mad:
this is my bane.
Spirit of Love your presence I need
your absence I dread when the progenies
of passion appear and I'm left in the dark,
doubting: this is my truth.
-Richard
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4
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Your World Of Sighs
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Apr 22, 2009 1:28 am
516 Views
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With your every sigh
a new star that appears
the universe
expanding...
in no wise imagined
the possibility
of horizons
on hold...
the dream that unfurls
a state of ecstasy
now prevailing
poets that weep...
transcribing the splendour
that's borne of your eyes
a new language
required.
-Richard
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4
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Playing By The Rules
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Apr 20, 2009 10:44 pm
507 Views
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From the break of day there's a child at play
and he plays for all he's worth,
made his eyes to beam as he lives the dream
that is his upon this earth.
At a certain stage he will come of age
put aside those teeming toys,
but at present time it's the nursery rhyme
comes to mind for girls and boys.
In a world that's wide there are rules applied
and they're not for us to bend:
sure that infant knows with his blocks in rows
that it's more than let's-pretend.
-Richard
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6
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Poetry
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Apr 20, 2009 1:06 am
462 Views
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Poetry is a wedding,
A merging of impressions,
A gown of wonder,
A garter of promise,
The touchstone of fidelity.
Poetry is a child,
The offspring of a fertile mind,
Of a questing heart, of a soul
Girded in ecstasy.
Poetry is love’s labour,
An offering to the Utmost High,
The sacrificial lamb slain
On the altar
Of mystery.
-Richard
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2
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Ode To A Spell-binding Woman
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Apr 18, 2009 6:40 am
537 Views
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Mother Earth surely envies her,
her curves and contours so much
softer – and more alluring –
than her very own, her liquid self,
too, pouring over so many
a hardened place, honing the rough
edges and ledges, rendering them
negotiable...
grown men turned into awkward –
and stammering – little boys,
if their tongues have now turned to sand
at the present realization that,
even as a young girl, she was focused
on so much more than the rest of them...
in effect never marbles
that held her gaze, even at that tender
age and stage but, in reality,
orbs of a vastly different kind,
her insatiable spirit riding moonbeams
and comets' tails, stars forever reflected
in her ever-inventive and impassioned eyes.
-Richard
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6
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The Fullness Of Now
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Apr 16, 2009 4:52 pm
497 Views
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It's not so much to take up the dance
as to put one's best foot forward -
not so much to dazzle with song
as to validate the zephyr -
not so much to embrace the light
as to stumble from the shadows -
not so much to whisper sweet nothings
as to aspire to be loving -
not so much to make waves
as to course with the current -
not so much to be lost in woship
as to embody the prayer -
not so much to advance a notion
as to be open to ideas -
not so much to find tomorrow
as to live in the fullness of now.
-Richard
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2
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Like Waters In The Streams
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Apr 15, 2009 8:06 pm
584 Views
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Your face now glows and that man knows
Reflected is your soul
For such a shine is deemed divine
When fully grasped the role
And on his wall he sees it all
Whose sight is clear and keen
If awed no less no second-guess
On what is being seen
That shine of yours as much as pours
Like waters in the streams
And as he spies those sparkling eyes
For sure that fellow dreams
-Richard
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10
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