Last night ... a restless night

Last night , a restless night  

thoughts churning ,

ruminating edgy thoughts

void of peacefulness

  

Last night , a restless night

tossing and turning with an awakened allusion ,

 the distance traveled circles back 

through introspective doubt ,

metastasis borne of outrospective disquiet

Last night , a restless night

dreaming bulbous snowballs expand in downhill motion ,

the inertia of gravity imbibes truth to truth

leaves a wake like an avalanche of fallen dominoes ,

an unidentifiable shadow of confusion

Last night , a restless night

awakened isolated ,

questioning whence this shadow come forth

questioning what was this shadow once

in the truth of light ?

Last night , a restless night  

metastasizing doubt , 

like unseen malignancy

eats from the inside out ,

past premonition  transcends

Last night , a restless night

peace so close yet so far away ,

peace befogged by metastatic unease

leaving an inert dawning shadow of doubt

Last night , a restless night …

© Harlon Rivers ... December 2013

Say it is so... (possibly sensual)

Say it is so... (possibly sensual)

There is a slight fog hazing the bottom windowpanes

as the dawn's cloudy light begins to slowly clear the haze

of an obscure awakening reality, without an impassioned lovers afterglow; 

yet again forever beginning a new day, 

once again realizing, it was just another dream

Sleep’s threshold fades in and out

like songbird’s trill in the gust

The aftermath of flushing thoughts

silent reverie remains vividly so...

~

Traces of love notes were written backwards

on frosty windowpanes

flushing out the sensual hues colour of the night

as thawed sweat trickled down streaking the panes clearly

Hot breathe clouds the looking glass,

veiling the memories of once swollen appetites

just before the flames burned the spark

that ignited the sultry midnight sins

Tell me once again about wishing

a calming of the raging waves

Whisper about dreams you're seeing now,

of summer breezes, swaying rope swings

bending limber limbs like a willow in the wind

Confess once again

about our misbehaving in your dreams

Say it is so…utters the fool on a hill

postscript: 6.20.2013 5:00 am

It was a very unseasonably cold night considering the summer solstice looms soon, with thunder and lightening in the night. 

A bit restless for many reasons, least of which was having seen a funnel cloud nearby that did not touch down.

Got up and wrote this down before the tea got cold...spontaneous as the funnel cloud forming out of nowhere and currently without edit...

Waxing Crescent Moon

Waxing Crescent Moon

There was a pause in the late night.

Coyote beckoned the moon's faint whispering beams

lamenting her light’s shine full and bright

Now waxing crescent afresh

winks with each passing cloud ,

as if to promise lightly
the shine of a new awaited dawn .

Rooster’s foreboding crow

echoes from the rolling vista ,

ricochets heard the awakening report ,

held breath does not stop a pounding heart

I watched the spider’s

walk a mile silken tight wire , 

cherry wood poster spanning cherry wood poster,

knowing it is possible to cross

an unknown distance between .

Silk thread drifts aneath the ceiling fan waft ...

floating, falling, tickling forgotten desires

feeling the whispers murmured ;

breathe out heavily

first touch sighs ,

... dreaming of sleeping amidst her fragrant petals

embracing a blossoming rose …

© 2013...poem by Harlon Rivers

Enchanted Wilderness

Moonlight moves across the shadows of love born beneath the trees.
Two shadows emerge as one...a poem by Harlon Rivers

Wandering silently

though the wilderness woods,

far and away from the potholes

of well beaten pathways

The soft breeze slowly moves

the shadows of the moonlit night

past the thorny stems of time.

Wildlife paths illuminated by starlight

adorn the alluring wooded trail

Secluded pathways foraged by natural instinct,

Ancestral prudence and intuition

Each shadow drawn willingly

into a deeper enlightening journey

As if synchronicity united hearts

learning to speak minds

The depths of undaunting transparency

are rendezvous with awakening breath

Looking back at life withdrawn in discontent

Exhaling newly found freedom without regret

Lost in perpetual motion, found in heart

Separate souls illuminated by the moon

stood alone yearning for healing connection

Ardor of hope shines an inward light

as moonlight slumbers while passion blushes

The night has a thousand eyes

Shining on practical mysticism

The laughing owls of midnight

Echo illusions of  crystal clear reverie

Moved by swirling tempest breezes

showering down from high endeavors

Wisps of the sleeping sky unfurl

teardrops drunk by earth’s sod

Nocturnal Cricket’s rhythmus acoustical wings

are very quietly chirping a bashful courting song

Laughter rings out blissfully

like the joy of a heavenly child

Nature sways with gentle motion

Her leafy arms groan and moan the silent toil

She holds up the weight of the celestial light

Moonlight moves across the shadows

of love born beneath the trees.

Two shadows emerge as one

from the wilderness of sleep

Reborn as naked children

enlightened by the enchanting forest...


Harlon Rivers ... ©  2012, 2013

Keep Your Secrets Hidden...

A poem by Harlon Rivers

Keep your secrets hidden
Held tightly in some old poetry book
upon the bottom shelves’ discreet disguise
The memories of the places
remembered in my life and times,
cast aside in a dusty old wooden music box
behind some back corner closet lair

Our tarnished fading memories of
that passionate night in New Orleans ;
remains as an adoring moments Polaroid ,
taped on in black and white
A tattered frozen moment

hidden by the inscriptions

of our romantic felicity carved in wood
Faded photographs and black silk scarves
now cover the ornately whittled box ,
like an elegant party dress
that once feel off onto
the cracked tile floor

Offering a gift of love
means asking for nothing in return
I gave you my heart without strings
You couldn't grasp my healing soul
A wounded spirit vanished with the dawn ;
a shy demure disappearing from within the shadows

seen from the corner of your sleepless eyes
Abandoned as if it were the petals
of a dried blood red rose ,
pressed and preserved , meant to be savored
between the tattered pages
of a favorite forgotten romance novel

Memories of your missing breath’s
subtle hints are found here, there
and everywhere dreams flow
All that remains in hand
is a broken wing and a prayer
You had to know I needed you
more than you could ever take
You had to know I loved you
More than you will ever know…

© 2012 Harlon Rivers

Breathe You in MY Dreams

. “Breathe You in My Dreams” is the name of a song linked below performed by Trixie Whitley.   

This poem is taken out of that long narrative poem written about a recurring dream phase that seems to be waking me often...dreams are powerful expressions from other realms in our lives...

“Breathe You in My Dreams”

In the silence of the inner stillness ,

you can hear the blood

running through my veins .

My heartbeat's throbbing rumble

turns to a gentle whisper,

while quietly drifting off into a dream ...

Her first sighs broke the silence ,

as her murmured musings tiptoed 

throughout the silent reverie .

Songs sung all through her secret places , 

safely kept out of curiosities view

Words of desire softly moaned

exposed a hushed yearning .

An insatiable thirst

that can not be easily quenched ...

Emotions ebb and flow

within the depths of our sensual word play .

Intertwined in the infinite allure

of her enchanting chimera delights ...

We dance speechlessly in the starlit moon dust

Breathless desires invigorate 
like the wind lifting wings

Mesmerized by a romantic essence
Floating freely forevermore .

If only this  recurring dreamworld 

would  tenderly touch 
her impassioned heart and soul once again ...

© Harlon Rivers….March 2013

“Breathe You in My Dreams”

Insomniac Dreams

Scantily scattered moonlight filtered through the canopy of broken clouds and leaves... Moon beams strewn sloppily onto the midnight floor as blurred sleepless eyes scan the shadowed field through the bars of the big brass bed.

A poem by Harlon Rivers.... a Word Whisperer chapter

Scantily scattered moonlight
filtered through the canopy
of broken clouds and leaves
Moon beams strewn sloppily
onto the midnight wooden floor
as blurred sleepless eyes scan
the shadowed field through the bars
of the big brass bed.
Opened window's fragrant air
chills to the bone
serving a cold reminder
that now is here.

The frogs croak so boisterously,
through the open window,
their annoying echo disturbs
the peaceful serenity
of the stone cold silence
from the dimly lit night.
They echo the sounds
of insomnia…

Scenes play out
across the satin
clad feather pillows
as if some old drive-in
movie projector re-ran
the same reel over and over
onto the giant screen's
dreamscape in my mind.
Tossing and turning
as each new scene fades.

Those scratches on that
favorite record with
tattered and frayed cover
from a distant memory
Imperfections make the song skip
in the exact spot each time
the player replays
Lost moments ruminate
as the record spins
Projecting the picture onto
the pillowed screen’s
silky thread count

Convoluted dreams seen
through the blinking dark circled
exhausted minds eyes
Only in insomniac lucid dreams
does silent reverie evolve
into tortuous nightmares
Never silencing the croaking frogs,
subtle yet raucous reminder,
that soon dawn will arrive
The cockaded crow's "caw" " cawing"
laughs haughtily at the orange sunrise
ending another loathsome
sleepless night
alone...

© 2011,2012, 2013 ... Harlon Rivers

May 7th, 2013

Diary of an Insomniac’s Moonstruck Reverie....day #1

After reviewing the genres of my writing for the past couple of years, I have discovered a large category of creative writing is inspired during the constant insomnia I endure.   A type of Insomniac daydreams at night as another state of mind takes me to the secret places where the sleepless "Dreamweaver" within, ruminates the chimera of the past, present and future without inhibitions.  Here you will find the echos of the sounds of insomnia ...

This  poetry blog will be under construction for a bit and then will be linked as a Word Whisperer chapter, so if you have come here while a work in progress, the links will be provided to the original " Word Whisperer home page "

"My name is Harlon Rivers and I am an Insomniac !"