If my heart could hold its own
There would always be you
As this wayward body lies alone
Seeking forgiving light on its own

Absent Spring gives way to
The broken moment of sight
Piercing the unknown torment of all
Reasons mercifully hidden from me still

So I know now I am yours already
Alight on the precipice of your stars
I will succumb my vacant aspirations
Gladly walk the star fire distance to your heart
From which there will always be you.

© K. James Ribble


I am held between memory and today
Incredulous with emotion, a captive
Cinder of time floating in mellifluous
Cedars of laughter on a dirge of my beautiful fate

I’ve become implored by these times, blessed
Beyond my years of endless crying over
Things I can or could not control –
As if I could stop the rain from falling

I peer through this Warren of infinity
A millenary of weeping, sifting like the sound of
Sirimiri along the edges of my heart, its vest
Forming the pages of a parched and dusty record . . .

All these reflections float through me
Crystal objects from a flowing reminiscence, I
Breathe in the lovely wreckage impelled by my
Soul, from these longing hills of remembrance.

© K. James Ribble


I’ve transformed all portraiture of virtue
My being vantage of visage revealed as
The meeting of our hearts stand as coil
To the preface of us like the sun and moon

A fever dream, you fall into unconscious
Omniscience lay down inside me as
A prism that charts no spectrum towards
My gaze so I fall deep, deeply into your eyes

And just as you were leaving, I met
Those eyes, the eyes of a woman
Who knew what she wanted as cascade of
Feelings rolled into me like summer thunder

A blue cavalcade of paired embrace and sorrow
Knowing I will never see you again – but
Smiling anyway as you kissed my cheek
A sweet remembrance of time’s lost furrows

After all we had been through I felt
As though my heart now fell further away
Launched from some unknown shore of torment
Towards an open sea with no course charted

No one at the helm but me.

© K. James Ribble

Memories of My Father


I must have been four going
On five, a little wheat seed still
Sprouting in a sun-drenched
Red like the Four O’ Clocks out the
Side of our house on Evans Street.

You were trying to teach me
How to tie my shoes and I was
Lost in the tangle of strings. I started
Crying which made things worse,
Your patience curt as annoyance.

You finally huffed out the door
Driving mom to the grocery
Store leaving me there alone
With alligator tears mixed with,
“Dad, I can do it! I can do it!”

And I did.
But you were already gone.



Joslin Lake is an outlier, its secluded
Silence from another time canopied
In a treasure of fire that rang
From the carillons of temerity –
We fished that lake every summer.

The three of us trolling for small
And large-mouth bass, a game of
Worm harnesses and lead sinkers as
I watched the tree line catch wind of
The clouds beyond a ceiling of rations.

Your antipodean stare at the
Surface of the water left me just as
Reflective yet breathless and alone.
Taught me patience married to
Anticipation a skill I keep trying to

Perfect on my way
To that corn husk gold horizon.



We came to Stone Village Theater,
All my friends and I in Senior Year
Had front row seats on the edge of a
Thrust stage. Could smell the cologne
Of stage makeup we were so close to you.

With no proscenium we were part of the
Action in the midst of a comedy no play
Could embrace you better. My friends were
Awestruck at your delivery embodied by their
Genuine belly laughs as all of us were in tears.

To your stage left we sat there smiling as you
Played your part so well and none of us
Left without you signing their playbills – as I
Remembered you, just for a second, breaking that
Fourth wall to give me a split second of a nod

That you loved what you were doing –
And that you loved me as well.


© K. James Ribble

Oratio in Fame

Ravaged insatiate
I speak with the birthright
Of stars, their veil of truth
Thin as crisp desire among
Thieves robbing my intuition
Of believing I can live
Without you – like a glance
Across an empty room filled
With doubt, it reliably seats
My appetite for us to remain
Draught to an admission
Of my own exorcism, a
Purging of fears that
Permeates this pinnacle
Of self-deception,
Lies in wait for its next
Victim a cross of benediction
This canon of our crisis
Lays firmly at the feet of
My thirsting love only for you.


© K. James Ribble

I Will Find You

I’ve come back from the edge
A biting place unfit for human hearts
Grey clouds weep in undying sorrow
Cold and distant like the sound of snowfall
I search for you in longing measures
Paint hours of music from your eyes
Only to see the reflection of my loss
In a melody of abandoned lakes and lost dreams
It is as if myth becomes rebirth,
And each time all that I seek
Becomes protean vision of you
Ethereal and elusive like
Distant fog in October
And I see you in that vision, visceral
Prescience in a folding quilt of love
So as you lay your head lovingly
On my lap, the sounds of morning surround us
Becomes the envelope of my Gratitude
As I take your hand in mine.

© K. James Ribble


I walk the stage of downcast dreams
navigate my awareness of lost days
skirt coefficient boarders as both
life’s means and the operands of time

fray’s the glaze of mind-between
amenity of light becomes egersis
my Parthenon seeps self-knowledge
I become my own athenaeum this

wisdom of light and dark manifest
abolishing all their absolutes
beauty, truth, all good becomes lost
only to find my discovery fractured

cannot dis-earn dream from day
the Light of Self di-splays into facets
quiet diamond edge of knowing
of who I am and where I am going . . .

© K. James Ribble


cascade cradle of vision my mind
now a Coriolis Effect of light like
‘motion’s night-sky to the southern

ecliptic of summer’s eve – this
vast landscape of image now
flows over me as it falls to you

where on its verge, you emerge
forest Enchantress-
huntress of Life
holding untold prowess of heart
possessor of deepest love

you engulf me with the privilege
of your presence and I am witness to
a millennia of warmth washing over me

you raise your gaze towards my way
-and I see you-
between us there is nothing
but the stars.

© K. James Ribble

Ode to Words

As if bound
to a collective chorus
our words sing to us
their bindings hand-stitched,
each one, to the leather
binding of our heart.

Beyond this serendipity of light,
all causeways to our own
self-assurance are caught unawares
by our words, a literary Cambridge
to the other side, so by chance,
the movement (of recognition) becomes
a soliloquy of timelessness.

This, our journey together, brings a
synchronicity of this same heart of
word-love – and it is this profound moment
of unity, as we sing our words together,
some will intersect in a choreography
of unison on the stage of our oneness
as we think, speak and write
in the same love together.
© K. James Ribble