Category: Poetry

Potential for Truth

Thespian Drummer

So many times I’ve seen the emotional vomit
Of broken hearts – the nauseous heart that lingers

So many times I savored the taste in the bitterness
Of love’s pain the glaring emptiness of emotion’s failure

That sat upon love’s lap like a disgusted rose —
So many times

Then like an Iris blooming in the spring of pure hope
How was I to know that your being there on that day

Would spark on a new and mysterious joy?
I saw the potential for Truth ring through you like

The Liberty Bell and I said to myself
I would gladly pay the bill for the price to find

The Truth in your love the loyalty in your heart
You’ve always sought and to cancel any notion

Of loneliness forever within your lifetime
And yet I realize that I dare not walk

But one more step toward your name that I say
Over and over again in dangerous anticipation.

© K. James Ribble

See Northern Lights

Thespian Drummer

Have you seen the Northern Lights?
When our Earth laughs with the Sun
Just before they go to bed?
A waterfall of fractured light like

The wager of dawn’s cloak of On-fire Blue
Like the amethyst green in the yawn of heaven?
They rollick in unbridled bliss the stuff of fables
Snowing light across billowing shell of Night’s

Cold bluster a half-shade above my delight
Alongside warmth of cautious pleasure
While waiting for nothing but another
Afore unknown color traps my eyes my brain

The universe of my own cortex of synapse
Color that does not exist but in thought alone –
I have witnessed a charge of genius
Whose virtue is not without art!

© K. James Ribble

Conscious And Aware

Thespian Drummer

I am in this moment
Conscious and aware
Divine Insight washes over me
As if I am jagged rocks
In a river of thought
My mind a whirlpool of
Clear pure water the liquid
Of my life culminating inside
The riverbed of my past
Allowing the history to unwind
Across adjacent moments
Random yet accessible like
The light that glimmers towards
The cascade of my memory
A prism of color so vast I
Cannot fathom its depths
Even though I am washed upon
The banks of my own intent
A cleansing of the changes
Unavoidably, relentlessly
Catches and hurdles the underflow
Of my own Knowing
Taking me to Calmness and
Wrought Understanding

 

© K. James Ribble

The Diamond Light Of Losing You

Thespian Drummer

Ice crystals of pain reflect
The diamond light of losing you
Geometry of tragedy reaches
Beyond the grasp of light
Refracting the love I lost
When I walked away from you
As all motion of life collides
With my broken heart inside this
Kaleidoscope of madness
The crimson palace of my sorrow

From far above I see myself
Reaching toward the healing bow
Upon the craft of my own redemption
Built with the hands that gave me Life
Emerging from within my own abandon
And I am lost throughout the stars
Of your magnificence a universe
A galaxy which you began so long
Ago and which I have forsaken

Legends cannot replace the love
We created on those days
Wherein the peaceful waters retreat
To the calm reflection of your breath
And I am reminded once again inside
This hall of ours that your warmth
Forms the Balustrade of my existence
The sweet foundation of our joy
Placed deep inside the anchors of my soul
Only to emerge once again

Free from all the pain of losing you
Returning home welcomed by your
Arms embracing our Perfect Love

© K. James Ribble

Native – A Legacy of Time

Thespian Drummer

The cleansing of my heart
Has taken place on scented thought
In a night far too clear along the galaxies end
I reach for words like the spokes of a
Spiders web never once thinking how
Arbitrary the process becomes
When pen and paper are left to the
Whims of deed and chance
(I’d have better luck) elsewhere
So, forgive me as I reach again
Longing to merge my heart to the Words
Where worlds descend on laughter’s end
Pouring out onto an evenings coat
Like milk on silk over water’s flow
It’s as if the crescent moment of
A life’s sheer wake
Has left me no choice but to make
Endemic time all the more
Convincing to my choice
Of going home
To you
Like going home
On Christmas Day

© K. James Ribble

Simplicity/Complexity

Thespian Drummer

The simple sound of my song
Inside the complexity of my Heart

I stand aside the mountain within and
Transport my Self along its crest

Venture familiar valleys deep with
Unencumbered love like the Grace of

Each day I walk run and ramble
Its pathways the coastline revealing

A shore that does not end it has no
Limit just as the longest day of the year

Has no claim on my beginning and there
Are no reservations on my only hope

That my journey never ends as I collect
My vision of the love I have embraced

Captured by the Sounds of the Day
While evening surrounds my thanksgiving

© K. James Ribble

Like

Thespian Drummer

Like prompters in the
Street-Corner-Gutter-Box
I move in rhythms all my own,
Intercept myself and
Succeed shadows of Spring
Like the acquaintance welcome
Of an old friend.
Like the shadow brush
On my window sill
It’s a wonder’s moment:
 Love;
In time,
 winter-born
 with no poetry
 in rhetoric bliss

I’m like canyon canons
In rhythms all my own.

© K. James Ribble

Quenched

Thespian Drummer

I glimpse the magnificence of your memory
With unwanted present day awareness
As if the thought of reuniting once again
Obstructs the view of my future
Like a commoner among royalty. . .

This windfall of emotion cannot conceal
Any ordinary mention of love nor can it
Catch the mastery of my heart’s only notion:
To memorize forever this taste of you
Inside the callousness of times repentant core . . .

The epic boldness of my dream reveals
A light far too orderly and crisp within
The senescent pallor of a day gone by on
The edge of all that I had hoped for
Quenched by the harshness of my own choices . . .

Rather it relinquishes its vision to the delicacy of hope
Where I am fraught with heaviness for heavens
Standard humbled by headlines bearing a day
Just like weather forecasting
My remaining lifetime of healing and rebirth.
 
© K. James Ribble

Only You

Thespian Drummer

I have found that it is only you
Who knows who I really am
Inside that cathedral of my heart
Where it always rains in the south of summer

It is only you who knows the fullness of my character
Even more than I know myself
Brushing past the allegory and alliteration
Noting all the inflammatory purging of pneumatic emotions

Please preserve that memory of who I was remembering
My constant struggle to regain what I have lost
Spilling past the Carthage of the carnage inside of myself
Relinquishing only the distrust of clarity too prudent to be wry

For when the time comes to reconsider who I am
I know you will preserve this memory with great care
As if to recoil on instinct the touching of the flame
So quick am I to shelter all that I have become
 
© K. James Ribble

She States Her Case

Thespian Drummer
She states her case in terms of culture
Defines the day in a tenuous tone of color
For which there are no known names
And associates her womanly prowess and
Femininity akin to the way in which
Tennis stars rank their world standings
Although no one could know this just
By being inside the sphere of her hold

I, on the other hand, say what I wish for
Not what I mean, take meanings the way
Most people take aspirin for a hangover and
Grip the awareness of my masculinity the way
A dancer must reach for his partner, the sheer
Synchronicity of movement dictating its necessity –
Then move outward from this point to
A realm I can only call the Hall Of My Own Undoing . . .


© K. James Ribble