Category: Poetry

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

Settle softly
The winds of thought,
My mind that is radiant you.
I bound in the
Harpsichord happiness of your words
On fresh water lakes
Strong and obedient
To the lightly searing music
Of your sun warmth…
So soft is the sound
Of emotions echo
Found in the deep lake woods
Near the shoreline wake
Of my subtle summer memory of you
And I remember:
Majestic is your face
That draws my heart in graphic harmony
Like the tide pull strength
Of your softly spoken smile.

© K. James Ribble

To the extent that
I can love you
– I surrender –
your name, now sacrosanct
(to call out to you now)
all nature beckons me
with you at its center
as if sunlight itself
soft as sateen and percale
object of my desire
all of my
love now
exposed to the sky
of your surroundings,
your ocean eyes of
Cayman blue enclose me
with salty confections
the same way your sensuous
waves of Cimarron hair
bestows your grace on me
all sustenance, that sacred site
of you framed like the
gardens of Versailles
– you –
a precious whole note
a calm flourish –
symphony of our love.

© K. James Ribble

An exegesis
indecorous
petroglyph of
my heart
mounted within time’s
Sepulcher of
the year now
gives way to a new
beginning a
cradle embodied
pericopes of
Reason and memory
-proclamations-
for me, for all.

 
© K. James Ribble

You and I –
Rendering the light lost between us
A happenstance of lust, its rendition
Caught on silvered roots of time

We became chance personified before
We had the chance – a gerund of
Motion levitating as shadow

Reclaiming our youth as forewarned
In a theater of The Absurd, at all
Clarified by night’s weight of dreams –

I dream its edges softened like
Daguerreotype, a freefall of conscience
Sunlit to the breach of a life in ruin

So I apologize to the ocean
Of love I’ve lost to you I, a vessel
Without course nor recourse
I am sorry –

© K. James Ribble

Hope
-Otherworldly-
Light, filtered
Unassuming clouds, angled
By the winter solstice
Melting enmity like
Granite’s birth in the
Earth’s core
I am yours/

© K. James Ribble

The old appreciate
Passionate tears of loss
As if the stars could speak
Would they tell me of my light?
(How do) I absorb the sunlit
Self, bound to the words like
A semantic satiation
A ground sel of exile
Merged in paralysis
Of boreal origin I am
Eulogy of ontology
Self sylphic surrealist
In a vortex of curation
Healing my heart to love
Once again.

© K. James Ribble

Understanding
All Discovery
I – [Unto you]
Clarity of Self
You occupy
My Thoughts
The way shadows
Superimpose
Over light of day
Everything
An Immersion
Of you
Like pages, words
A book
Goes by
I read you
But cannot comprehend

© K. James Ribble

When I loved before it was a choice
Railed by an amelioration arbitrary of youth
Funneled by the skylights of Inexperience made
Puerile and sweet as Hawaiian Punch with Oreos

That bastion of innocence comes once in a lifetime
Cannot fathom the heartbreak ahead when loss
Becomes a friend and time runs its course in spite
Of your crushed heart before the cannons fire through

As all those years unravel accumulate like a freight train
Railed on a febrile scale of your heart breathing in perfect
Syncopation parallel only to your ability to carry on without
Pining against the hope that love will still find you

Now my fears speak like an expatriate, expatiates the remaining
Time like an iconoclast screaming to the galaxies that love
Can find a way that it pays a price to endeavor and risk
If only for a moment – if only for a moment – I could love again.

 
© K. James Ribble