Call it Magic

   call it magic ...

call it golden autumn hue

dawn mist imbues the hush of daylight

daybreak’s enchanting silent renewal

sunrise races down like a cascading  waterfall

mystic rainbow shards shine through

 morning pearlescent enchanted droplets ;

magical dewdrops glisten

like harmonious splendor bejeweled

autumn’s sumptuous colours drawn

set fire to the hallowed view

the newness of  uncovered skin

vibrant maple drops her dress 

with a sleepy spin

upon the waking dawn's frosty chill

her naked colors strewn 

whither fiddlehead ferns unfurl

a place where the magic of creation

delights in heavenly muse

a rare emergent continuity

prescient to life’s ever-changing view

an ode to a waning presence reborn

surrendering to a poignant autumnal purview

whence searching souls touch stirringly

at the edge a new world begins

to taste that uncommon tranquility

peace just over the mountain

hand hewn from solitude

© harlon rivers poetry & photographs ... November 2014

the slow death of a poet

A diary of the falling dominoes chapter, republished on Word Whisperer original poetry blog.

invisibly dying from the inside out
no one is looking into unseen eyes
no one can hear a muted voice fading
no one is close enough to be near

the deafening thrums echo
anxieties’ racing heartbeat ,
gasping for new breath
in a hovering stale silence

from a distance
the broken mirror ricochets a subdued light ;
much closer the reflection reveals
someone I once knew by heart

now an unrecognizable mask
enshrouds a terminal emptiness
inconspicuous at a fleeting glance , 

impossible to  discern what storms rage 

from the inside out

the uncontained wildfire smoldering within
lies in wait for the winds of change
to fan the flames into the final ashes

a poet reaches out demurely

offering a candid look

into the window of the human soul

there is no poetry

met by indifference

just gathered unread words scribbled,

squandered time drips slowly on the page
moments turn into days
days turned into years

invisibly dying from the inside out
an unfinished life trickles out like seeping blood
evanescing from a bottomless puncture wound 

penetrating the heart
leaching out the slow death of a poet

for Poetry is only words unless they touch someone ...
befallen to indifference is poetic death by paper cuts ...
a muting suffocation that wears away,
silencing the passion of a musing soul ...

one unread word at a time 


© harlon rivers ...October 10, 2014

Liberating Dreams

Liberating Dreams

Unlock all those well hidden dreams
Breathe in their
hopeful impending bloom
The colour within
lay barren a swellen bud
yearning like a scorned lover
thirsty for the bitter sweet
Astir an unrequited memories ' afterglow
the dull throbbing ache

slowly wears away the soul


Time stealthily passes unnoticed ;
comes a time ..,

time came and went
allusions of forbidden dreams of grandeur
come unraveled ,
erode away ,
everlastingly reshaped
Carved by kismet and circumstance
leaving a broken ,
abrasive hindsight ,
wearing like a mouthful of sweet lies


Uncage those secret buried treasures
beheld closely a mind-made bastille
Unshackle those pining restless wings ,
cast loose the weight ,
the burden of gravity borne alone ,
for to fly far and away
alighting beyond 
those guarded enslaving walls


Enkindle the soul’s shine in all its brilliance ,
stirred by musing , liberating dreams
Uplifted like soaring
constellations splendor ,
enriching the harmony of the universe


Bring to light the essence of verve ;
the inner shine enlightens buried shadows
Unfetter that which chastens
the heart’s pulsing radiance

Come out from behind clever disguise


Embrace the feral anticipation
Imbibe passionate dreams forbidden fruit
Unleash the tameless spirit within ,
pulsing through roiling  veins ,
absolving the raging and restless sole within
Gazing at the stars above
renewed by an unbridled dreamfulness
searching on a cloud for a lullaby

harlon rivers ... © October 2014 

#liberating #dreams

Steal away the summer sun

The fall duskiness
snuck up like a moon shadow ,
quiet as a mouse ;
tiptoeing ,
sneakingly wary ,
into autumn candlelight’s
snuggling warmth

Seasons change ,
steal away
the summer sun
sinking level
with southern horizons ,
leaving only falling leaves
silently rousing flutter

Twilight skies
play hide and seek ;
the man in the moon
peaks around
magenta cotton clouds ,
winking through
the mountain greenery’s
dappled luminescence

The hush . . ,
candlelit quietude
flickers
from newly borne
stillness

harlon rivers ...© October 2014

The memory of lingering moments

The memory of lingering moments

Remembering your final evanescent breath’s exhale
I close my eyes and see you’ve gone
Sail away into peaceful ocean’s waning sunset
Drift away into distant horizons beyond

There is never a well - seasoned sailor’s voyage
Without tide book and sagacity in weathered hands
Steady compass hold ye sway ,.. deftly poised
Never an ocean to wide to cross
Nor never stormy seas too swellen to be borne

An unbroken circle courses an unfinished life
It’s a long and hard journey pushing on
It all seems so vividly just like yesterday
Running on faith , a forever beginning impending dawn

Some days are indelibly etched on heart’s walls
Some moments were carved in ancient stone
These are the days of fleeting memories' pang
Still standing tall with fragile heart in open palms

There is a comforting reverence knowing
Hearing love’s mantra alive in the breeze
Believing unconditional love’s imminent eternal bloom
Shall never fade away

harlon rivers ...  September 28th , 2014

Note : Time cannot erase what which we hold closest .

An emotional purge ... a first draft to be shared as is 

commemorating  the anniversary of my father's last day on earth 

The truth entwined in dreams

We only collide in mesmerizing daydreams

things have never been as they seem

presence felt  so tangible across distant horizons

touching souls only in the throes of musing dreams

Therein lies an abstruse distance to destiny

exiled by clairvoyant sheltering walls

shielded within a hidden untouchable safe haven

imprisoned comfortably confined within

Once exploring vast winding river’s shoreline

tiptoes taste at the shallow waters’ edge

"Close your eyes" ..,  float afar where ferral currents beckon

waft away in moonstruck daydream’s trance

Only in sumptuously lucid night dreams

we crash stark-naked into a sea of sublimity

plunging into an alluring  metaphysical abysm 

into the secret titanic depths azure oceans bathe

Plummeting from the edge a utopian threshold

sway aneath restless swollen waves touch

unraveling  passion’s prevailing tidal maelstroms

that wellspring of  cadence to which I yearn to swim

Yet … I’ll drift away alone this restless sky full of stars

fly by night through star dust showered cosmos scenes

crash into naked stars’ luminescent splendor

imbibe a spellbinding elixir yellow moon serene

Only in dreams before morning dewdrops gather

impearled flesh glistens on the cotton beach of dawn

awakening sighs replace the warm enraptured whispers

the touch our sensual asylum betides

Splendidly improbable entrancing reverie

inspire indefinable enchanting realms

awakening to another lonesome daybreak’s

outgoing tide of broken beautiful dreams 

Harlon Rivers © September, 2014 ... all rights reserved

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.

There’s a kind of hush

There’s a kind of hush strewn
by the dawn’s wafting mist
upon the crystalline dew dampened stillness
Steller's Blue Jay's raspy cackle
hawks haughtily
in-between cracked acorn subsistence
Ancient Oaks' stoic scaffolding
bears the weight
the waning summer daybreak sky

Upper sanctuary branches lichen crossroads
squirrels highway to higher fir crowns
Circadian rhythms astir amongst the hazel brush;
instinctively feeling more than noticing
the subtle diminishing daylight hours
Gleaning the lazy summer’s
ripen nuts and seeds ;
repurposing to fuel the change of season’s
evolving tasks

An inherent sense of urgency hastens pace ,
scurrying hearts restlessness harvesting ,
dropping unripened green pine cones ;
recurring ' kerr-thuds ' breaking silence
as if the awakening sky were falling
onto the dried fir brow needle montage below

Destination --- secret stashes
well hidden pantries tucked away
Gathering fruition , for they know not
the paper artifacts adorning walls
nor, where hangs the calendar
of human measure

It is a natural continuum rhythm ,
encircling the universal currents’ synergy
that courses the symmetry ;
nature’s realms sway
to a sublime harmony ,
another revolving circle passing ,
another ring in the ancient Oak’s wood ,
yielding to a higher law's amity
of amazing grace . . .

harlon rivers ... August 20, 2014

Call of the Wild ... Encircling Pinnacles

© harlon rivers photo

Call of the Wild ... Encircling Pinnacles

Nomadic Canadian Geese chevrons circle
beneath the drifting
billowy inshore marine flow
Bulbous orange grey
meringue clouds
meander just above
the distant coastal sunset horizon
Their honking call of the wild ,
their clannish vagabond demur squabble ,
an undeniable visual vanguard
. . . seasons change
no longer presupposed , . .

Resident Red Tailed Hawk glides
and drafts gracefully
below the sky borne ruckus
Seemingly an annoying intrusion
by the flat land temporaries
discoursing arouse ;
interrupting his serene flight
Stealing away waning summer glides
uplifted by a soothing warm currents peace
Floating high above native habitat
seasoned stick latticed roost ;
hallowed home perched
on the pinnacle
majestic old growth wood . . .

© harlon rivers ...August 2014

The Dawning of the Day

The dawning of the day ...

Shadows of darkness speak in hushed dialects
Thoughts drip from tongue’s  stillness
with the silence of a whisper ;

osmosis forms dimly back-lit word whispers ,
heart’s avowals adrift , float in the ether currents' sigh
amidst the early morn's dappled thrown shadows

Enkindled embers of hope’s silent reverie
smoldering  in yesternight's
satchel of leftover dreams

Open palms behold a fragile heart in hands
awaiting daybreak’s kiss ;    

the spinning world becalmed ,
a seized moment's tranquility ........

Forever beginning verve quietly astir ,
incarnates the dawning of the day

Ethereal silence answers more questions than words
Colour of anticipation inflames spirit’s sunrise sky ...

Harlon Rivers ... © February 24th, 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

It’s okay to change your mind

There’s ne'er a need to suavely vanish

run out of space for petal's flower

loving is a risk

touching souls sublime

imbibe it ;

breathe it out

unleash it

swill love's elixir

steep gifts unconditionally endowed

. . . it’s okay to change your mind

Arise from fear

slip this skin ,

the unseen chain that binds ,

the unplanned passing of love

prevailing winds of change

dishevel  souls

how restless bestirred regrets impose ,

caught between all you wish for ,

lamenting all you need

. . . it’s okay to change your mind

Lying on a soothing bed of buttercups

passion burns like the moonbeams

in our eyes

goose bumps veiled by dappled moonlight

shards of moonbeams

caress warm shivering flesh delights , . .

instead of finding your bliss

let your bliss find you

. . . it’s okay to change your mind

Love is a refuge ;

respite from the cold 

and lonely nights

do you still favour me from time to time?

the sounds the passing of love lingers 

in the forever stained silence

of my misunderstood world

the quieter you've become

the more I hear your ether tides

Love ne'er wants to be

a weight borne

seasons do change

we crave what goes away 

as changing contentment's wane

. . . it’s still okay to change your mind

© harlon rivers . . . August 2014