Author: Thespian Drummer
Allowance
Her royal entrance is my own undoing
Watching her pace belie the ebb-indefinite
Snap-madness of her gait-way creates an
Allowance for such motion of flight
Where I’ve become a mute
A mere walk-on within her play a
Theater with no lines to speak
Only lavender movement and blocking
That feels cast aside by her glance as
I am reminded of the fallout love we once
Gathered inside the upstaged wings of silver light
A duotone of bastard amber and daylight blue
Emulating Life once more across a
Doorway transporting me to dreams of us:
May I touch your face once more?
Gently kiss your forehead beside the
Blackness of time’s open dream-way
Coalesced before my eyes like the munition
Of my loneliness and abandoned life?
Catered but not served in this house of ours
Lies the same doorway and exit of entrance to
A path of undiscovered ecstasy
Divinity casting its last rays of sundown on
My own undoing,
my own undoing . . .
© K. James Ribble
Proclamation
Never Once
Never once have I –ever-
Thought of you other
Than my equal.
Set aside by my choice
Only to walk a maelstrom of indecision all
Giving way to an unknowable depth of loss on
A journey I never knew I could carry
Toward my future I saw but never envisioned as if
My gaze stepped-over ceilings that never stopped
As all that thought manifests beneath my earthen feet
Sentient as I am amid a panic of painstakingly, heartbreaking
Mention of you – and I place your heart inside mine like a
Steam of fog gathering once more bearing
Gates of Dreams you who dreams a stairway of flaxen
Vision unfolding before my eyes her eyes seeing me
As the Embrace of all our time together in this place
The imperfections of which I cannot name but a few like
Those innocent enough to know
what our truth reveals just before dawn
Snow Silence
Mandala
Speaking with Angels
The Dreams
Beginning
Wanting
There are miles between us
I know not the answer to our distance
Yet taste the closeness of our souls
I find time unable to keep
Remembrances to mere image
Thus feel you inside me still.
There has been an establishment (of us)
A form in which no logic can apply
We are the advantage of ourselves
In a limitation that boasts no walls
Caught in mid‑flight
On a touch we never finished
While the wonder of the wind remains
Leaving us together
Leaving you and I alone
Waiting for return
So familiar to our hearts
© K. James Ribble
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