Showing posts with label #cathartic writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #cathartic writing. Show all posts
Sunday, November 19, 2017
Saturday, January 7, 2017
Where is the Strength to be Strong ?
Where is the strength to be strong?
For strength is not a passing season;
it does not come and go lightly,
by and by
The true nature of stalwart love is unconditional ,..
an enduring friendship , in and of itself ,
cannot pass alone ―
Strength knows not colour
nor measure of dark or light
The creed of its roots ;
the plea of its strife,
within misery becomes belief
Yet is the sorrow felt a contradiction?
Our own vision's
day by day devise
to bear diminishing life?
Where is the strength to be strong?
The doubt in faith that ebbs and flows;
lost in gravity of deepest oceans'
blackened push and pull?
No matter the despair embraced
that which makes the broken feel whole
Where is the spirit to be strong?
The verve that emboldens strength?
A Life driven by a Will to BE ― is ―
Manifesting transformation ,..
Rise up the hidden fountain springs within
where all waters begin
Sturdy strength ― Resilient and strong
" Never enough " belies love’s urgent calling
" Never enough " is of enslaving device
a fleeting moment
ne'r a candle burnt out
The Will to BE
is always enough!
to BE ―
© Harlon Rivers ... 1. 06. 2017
note: written for a struggling friend,
and for anyone who can relate to the side affects
of life's waning wintertide ...
Sunday, September 18, 2016
Come September ,..when the leaves come falling down
The fleeing clouds have cleansed the tawny earthen meadows
Migrating sun doth steal away waning light of summer’s glee
High atop fir boughs bow in whispered homage
To the sapience the coloured leaves hath gleaned
The sweet scent of auburn brindled pinecone clusters
Ooze of glistening fruity-resinous pitch
Sticky figured squirrels chatter while they gather,
Stashing away a survival cache of spinners and acorns
For another moment in sleepy winter tide dreams
A swirling eddy of spiraling leaves whirl beneath the tall timber
Fluttering gracefully with a gravity only falling leaves behold
Enchanting like the evanescent timbre poignant piano notes decay
Falling silent as summer Jasmine’s fragrant final bloom
Dandelion wishes soaring higher
To kiss the fleeting winged skies
Lazily adrift up and over Cascade Mountain Crest
Fuzzy treetop flyers ascending beyond
The golden harvest moon’s blossom ,…
To wish upon a shooting star
Serendipity sown about
whimsically in the wind
For to reap the will of heart’s desires
A troop of Chickadees clinging like tiny acrobats
Foraging on ripened ginger hued fir-cone seeds
Waving goodbye to the deciduous cadence
Softly wafting with a pungent Lavender potion scented breeze
There is a secret place where memories hide deeply alive
Amongst the wild wood and impending leafless trees
Where Autumn coloured leaves whisper in the gentle breeze ,…
“I would do it all over again”
Come September ,..when the leaves come falling down
© Harlon Rivers ... September 15th, 2016
Sometimes life takes us away to places and difficult times of misunderstanding… causing side effects beyond our control that can knock us off the grid. I’m only human -- Creative writing has been a bittersweet catharsis since early adolescence, often purging a misunderstood life into music and poetry.
Thursday, February 4, 2016
Bald Eagle's Soaring Flight
nature's illuminating halo
upraise a spirit yearning to fly
wetted wild feathers blown dry
... by a higher circle of light
A Bald Eagle's soaring circles
these revered grounds just above
evergreen tree top apex
…Majestic’s sentinels leaning south,
solacing graceful wings
draft on uplifting currents
a vision of grandeur,
wafting round and round,
searching for something or someone
…a lonely soul left behind on earthen ground
then like the drifting sky
follows a gypsy gust a wind
only upraised soul remnants ascend,
in the wake remains
a hallowed edifying condolence
soothing the womb of a soul
...in the dearth of all warmth of solace
weep not for the flight
of passing memories;
descending tears of many colors
mercifully bequeathed
...what's gone is lost forever,
what's found is yours to keep ~
harlon rivers ...January 28th, 2016
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
Excerpts from a diary of heart on sleeve : Poets come and Poets go…
Excerpts from a diary of heart on sleeve :
Poets come and Poets go . . .
Hanging on to starry-eyed contentment's ,
beyond the hour, a time for letting go
Stifled in a haze at these mazy crossroads ;
silence betides tired supplications
from this diary a heart on sleeve - -
Propensity stirs up eddies in the ether dust ,
while dizzyingly pacing a gilded cage
I cannot find the labyrinth through it ,
nor the strength to carry the weight of the arduous load ,
to swim wearily against the prevailing tides
forbearing an immeasurable gravity borne alone ,
knowing we cannot be . . , if we cannot be who we are - -
Seasons do inevitably change
without conscience or sympathy ,
invisibly eroding the shape of life ,
forevermore turning the tides again . . .
harlon rivers . . . feb 2015
Saturday, February 7, 2015
harvesting poetry from the tree of humankind
image by Claudiu
Harvesting poetry from the tree of humankind
Refreshed perspective gather words
Refreshed perspective gather words
like
ocean riptides gather the rivers’ flow - -
repurposing
back-eddies ,
rejuvenation
of stagnant brackish waters ,
inherent
soul-shine purging
from
the ancient core of earth mother
Light
arising from the depths of inner stillness
as if
a refilling wellspring burst forth ,
reawakening
muted sighs too deep for words ,
forming
poetic constellations
to
lighten afar the nebulous darkness ,
like
a sea of ink transformed into poetry
A
sage opus renewed
by
the muse of a migrating flock ,
striving
to discover new sacred grounds
yet
there is an undeniable song sung
in
the howling winds of change
an
incitement from a higher dialect
that
empowers a restoration of the spirit ,
oeuvre
uplifted by rogue waves of wind
arousing
that which time erases
A
renaissance manifest
among
the rousing nuances
of
poetic continuum ,
judicious
to rediscover
the
enthralling vastitude
of
every breaking wave
in a
boundless sea of poesy
Where
prevailing currents
stir
oceans of verse eternal ;
provoking
verve revival ,
the
magnitude of an unbroken circle ,
ocean
swells merging oneness
with
the omnipresent colour
of
uncharted depths
As if
thoughts are assuaged
by a
union of touching souls
in
intangible realms ,
sparking
subtle shades of meaning
spanning
poetic immortality ,
transcending
barriers of unexplored lexicon
to
manifest the immensity,
enkindling
rhapsody of hearts and minds
Deeply
rooted soul replenishment
harvested
from the tree of humankind ,
willingly
sharing without regret ,
enabling
an enlightening metamorphosis
of
the human journey ...
harlon
rivers
January
22nd, 2015
passing
on the poetic torch
Saturday, August 30, 2014
Yes ... only love can break your heart
Thoughts ring poignantly conscious ,
bestirred amongst the warm summer breeze
brimming over with crickets ' thrumming
seasaw chirrup
Unintentional expectations
seep into the rhythmic sounds ,
unplanned thoughts lingering
like misunderstood life residue
Forgotten or dismissed ,
as if an abandoned vagabond aimlessly adrift
lost on a misbegotten voyage ,
upon a wanton heart’s stormy seas
Alas , weep not within tender heart
for even the simple beauty of perfect bloom
ripening metamorphosis
as seasons do change
Behold .., suddenly taken aback
by a lighter moments frolic
in the brimful breeze ,
giving up their whimsical offerings
in a moment of need
Black capped chickadees
line the rustic grey stone pool
three & twenty wide
free to giggle and splash ,.. turn the tide
Nuthatch flock chatters upside down
the gnarly Oak’s mossy bark
bringing a needed reality back
into this solaced moment’s gravity ;
Their whimsical chit chat
rings sweetly
as if it were children laughing
Descry the conscious moment ;
the way I’m meant to be
knowing all that is wanted
is to feel like I am whole again
Yes ... only love can break your heart
Yet only the spirit nature’s higher love
bequeaths a pathway to healing ...
© harlon rivers ... August 29 , 2014
authors note:
This is a poem where the moment was just scribbled out in a conscious ramble... some freestyle poetry just goes where it wants to go...free to be what it is ... I can be who I am , livin’ in the heart of the country
It can be amazing how powerfully nature can evoke a metamorphosis of perspective in meditative moments…
turning mien 180 degrees from introspective muddled thoughts into outrospective presence.
Friday, August 15, 2014
Evanescent ; when you don’t matter
EVANESCENT ; when you don’t matter
If a falling star
kisses ocean’s wild vastitude ,
does anybody see the impact's circling aftermath
as the rippled waves continuum evanesce (?!)
That fleeting moment when the sea
imbibes the gravity of another setting sun ,
surrendering to the yield
the bending horizon (?!)
Will anyone grasp
a simple deep moment's
transcendence ,
illusion of grandeur (?)
What is the sound
a breaking heart's exhale ,
but a muted whisper breathed
in the silence of the torn (?!)
Can restless silence discern
an empath’s pang ,
behold the solace of a forlorn
callous ache of indifference (?!)
Circles turn ,
seasons pass ,
blind eyes turn away the forgotten ,
" out of site out of mind "
Does anyone heed the hushed ache
of hidden swallowed lumps in throat ,
sorrowful longing ,
lonely dampened inaudible sighs ;
Will anybody hear
the bold expanse of silence (?!)
Authors note : EVANESCENT :
passing out of sight; fading away; vanishing . . .
© harlon rivers
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