Category: Poetry

Glimpses

Thespian Drummer
 
We just catch glimpses of it
Fleeting fury of life’s understanding
Awareness of something familiar
We do not know at the cusp
Of our time to expire
From an unknown source we
Claim to own . . .
Faster than Light
Its surface is a matte of clarity
We cannot fathom and its
Course is soft, at first, to the
Touch, instilling in us a love
We try to honor
 
 
© K. James Ribble

As The Day Begins

Thespian Drummer
Sunlight the sum of all that I Am
Covers me like a blanket
Like the one my mother swathed me in
Photons splayed across the room
Revealing her presence as if she
Were standing next to me
I am exposed to the warmth of Light
The Light of Angels who administer
The love of this illumination just
Like water that flows among the rocks
Of the river just outside my window
I am surrounded and embraced
Once again showing me how I am
Loved in this world and how I
Can love others . . .
All my life all my life I have sought you
And you have always been there even
When I thought I was all aloneYour sunlight spills and drenches me
Its warmth is all around me
Bathes me in its perfection and I
Am overcome with the splendor just
Like a boy who falls in love for
The first very time. And I am
Embraced once again warmed to the core of my
Being once again.

© K. James Ribble

DeCay’s Banquet

Thespian Drummer
 
Chigaon DeCay woke one day and asked himself:
What if I were in love?
What if I could walk up to you
And grasp your hand like we
Were the last two people on earth?
What if I could live once again?
Is not my twelve year sleep long enough?
Is not all that time I’ve recorded pathos enough?
Dreaming all the stars of my ancestors!?
Venerable engravers of my life
Who came before me colliding with you and I
Like we took our exit from the subway on
31stand Seventh piercing through the smells
Like an afterthought like italicized stage directions
Knowing the author’s notes are open for interpretation
A carrion-feast of stench wilting at the thought
Of living a life of nothing one more day!
Enough!he roared, enough of this chattering way
If I could play for you the music of who I am
What would you hear? Would you hear
A pastel wash of Major 7ths and Diminished 4ths?
A swift ravaging abhors this Love we’ll find!

 

© K. James Ribble

Logos

Thespian Drummer
Decades of silence surrounded my voice
A tempest on the ocean floor of my soul
White noise echoing in the great hall of life
Where scars of your vibration remain inside
My unconscious reflex, thoughts of you filters
Real tears that flow along the currency of my face
Of fears that cannot lessen nor teach me that
Your place in my life remains a constant
A recognition that straddles me between doubt
And being honest like the luxury of daylight reveals
You surrounded by vast mountain steps approaching the
Shore of a rocky beach, water singing its songs
Of calm the forever rhythms of your grace bearing witness
To the symbol of you and I swell in the over-flow of
My admonitions of who you are and I cannot escape
Even these words cannot free me from this truth that you
Are my logos my Knowledge of who I am as my voice is found
© K. James Ribble

Allowance

Thespian Drummer

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

Thespian Drummer
 
And when at last the final days
Are even now above
The clearing of my soul
Trumpets shall fanfare
The Seventh Chords of dawn
In the land of eternal victory
Proclaiming all glory to be his
As I raise high my sword of loyalty
To be sheathed forever in
A common bond of trust
And filial piety
Visions of the kingdom
Lay upon my heart of
Silenced golden hills
Fragrant and displayed with
A joy and beauty undreamed of 
There beyond the mountains of my life
Lies my father’s house the
Foundation laid with his own hands
And I run there the royal-blue
Turquoise-ambered sky
Completing the evening of my Death
For I am reborn and welcomed home
 

 

© K. James Ribble

Never Once

Thespian Drummer

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

© K. James Ribble
 

Snow Silence

Thespian Drummer
 
Within our journey
She smiled in snow silence,
Crème-color time;
She seeking warmth
I accompany her
And obey her commands
For her words are powered
With Royal Emotion.
She waves her metallic scepter
As I kneel in adoration
(I her knight she my Queen,
Woman of wonder, Silver love)
Now I must bid her farewell:
She must travel to a distant land
Where the King of Destiny
Awaits her arrival
We have shared segments
Of life once again
As we did centuries ago.
I must watch her
Leave again.
© K. James Ribble

 

Mandala

Thespian Drummer
 
 
Got caught yesterday above the Sun’s lining
That uneven flow of Now breathing past
Myself as ambush of memories spill
Like the smell of summer’s first cut grass
Invariably those memories catalyze
A thousand scents of you
That pungent incense of our love
Crossed with the sky’s blue-sweet air
They tumble throughout a natural
Frame a presage of this lasting image of us
While carousel of life’s mandala carries
Me from the wreckage of those memories
Places me high above your symbol of living 
In a love so pro-found it becomes
Memory of Eternity that seeks courage
Walking towards you just to say hello
One more step towards you is all I’ve ever sought 
Among the same untold catch of memories 
That lay on the grace of tomorrow’s doorstep
Perfumes of you I’d gladly walk into
As I breach the sun’s cloth of light that loving light of you.
 
© K. James Ribble

 

Speaking with Angels

Thespian Drummer
The cadence of my life is the heartbeat
Of your mountains and the echoes of my time
I am the infinite downpour of your love
That lay in the beauty of this world of my soul
Where I am the notion of a change in the winds
Of your sight and the sounds of your truth
All gathered and seated over the goodness of the hearth
Of your abundance beside vast lakes of joy
And I flourish and radiate well within the acres
Of my lives with all my doubts expand like an opus
Your precious majesty not unlike the days that
Unfold just like a lullaby a silent emerging
Of my being breathing in the Light of your warmth
Like the grace of the day I was born from you
And I thank you for my days and for my journeys
Thankful beyond these words so I am speechless
I am without recourse in my obligation to you so
I implore you allow me to find the ways to return
This love that I have felt that has been unyielding in
Its unbound nature and immeasurable freedom
For I am honored forever humbled by your gift
I will find the fortune that is mine and come home to you.

 

© K. James Ribble