In what manner on this earth have I lost
any longer the paged, jeweled books of you?
I’ve come to you from eternity’s doorway
drawn from the spillway of life’s monarchy
of Truth where love cannot lie nor lay in waiting
There is no other way to behold the soul of you –

I behold the color of the sun it is now become that
I have found along the banks of you my living river,
the Earth your eyes, your hair the Night your lips the
daygrace of a thousand petals, rose-enmeshed in a sky
on which the air you breathe clears these waters, your
face a virtue that cannot be lost for I am bound to you!

From the afterflow of your hair to the very spark
of the look in your eyes, it’s as if I am seeing for
the very first time what it means to be wrapped by
enrapture, the casting mist of your light from every
point in the pinnacle of your day and night you are the
Bright beyond the sun and moon, the essence of Life!


© K. James Ribble

In the Minutes of the Day

If the

dawn of my reckoning

fills me with the light of your

eyes the same way

the salt of

the ocean air

glimmers on my tongue

then the night is still young

for you and I –


If the noonday sun

mentions me in sidereal


Coating me in Hesperian minutes

where would we lay?

Out of all the imperfections

I could ever perceive

there are none my eyes could

give way to you.


© K. James Ribble

Ponderings I

Like a step above
the purview

of recline
Reaching back along

the shoreline of Sight
lines where there’s not

a seat in the house
that does not have a good view,

The center
line of flight

Walks in the time
of daylight, the

incredulity of the Sky
in plain sight –

as if my own carnality
weighs adrift on the

conspiring rhythm of time &

– Furiously egregious –
frivolous in the dead of night


© K. James Ribble

Stance of Time

Stance of time
Stance of thought

I cross towards
the underside
of my time here
The presence
-your presence-
glowing citron yellow
of chance
based on a whim
As if
speaking from
the other side
I find you
in a lounge of
The rocks
as witness
in a web
of      Interpret and
Such is your
this intonation
is not of you,
of your flesh
it is a part
of Who You Are
And I
acknowledge it
fully and
without judgement
or pause.

Because I love you.


© K. James Ribble

On Being

Misgivings of time
align with an
outer destiny
a magnificent memory
of sighs, in signs of
ardor and the
riff of daylight –
My senescence drifts
between dissimilitude
of each thought
as though a river altered
the course of my life
almost in miniature, this misgiving,
as if such a fray and
fury allows for my love
the splendor
of gratitude, so this
imploring in its
reclines like the dawn
of a millennia in
lost magnitudes, like
the diminishing flourish
of your breath upon
my brow in Autumn’s light
© K. James Ribble


what utterances can
we make of
transient, shifting light?
a windowsill of thought
gently murmurs towards
a longing
in my heart and
like the earth, I move
in a whorl of missing
spaces lingering
on a memory of softer
winds whose moment
cannot recall its
own rumination
foretold, forgone,
forever furrowed
into the clouds
of an errant sun,
gold-enlaced with the
caution of gabardine
because my heart
can’t stand the cold
any longer …
so I castigate the transition
of tomorrow’s folded light
as it releases me
from fear, from love’s
own requisite longing

© Thespian Drummer / Utterances


there is a place I’ve found
within me
that is sanctuary to the
memory of you

after all this time
a passage as retrospect
the grief of a given shape
the orb of our moment …

the cherry burl brown
of your eyes haunt me still
the cast iron black of your
long, full brazen hair –

you and I are captured
in that time, it exists on its own
and I cannot help myself
I still come there to see you

where I ruminate by your side
your smell residing within me
our embrace’s form imprinted
from the memory of your kiss

this is all that will ever remain
lost in the castle of this reverie
my younger self inside a cover-sine
light lingering on the angle of you


© K. James Ribble

Into the Night

the perimeter of this
your ever-present light

status off stage
quo to the wings

Beatrice never knew
the architecture of time

be it lost in rhythms
or planted by limitations

all I can say is that
once you are there

the songs of it are gratis
it is the light that surrounds

all artistry of love
no matter the medium

into the night aloft
we go –


© K. James Ribble

A Eulogy of Time

Autumn lulls me
to sleep in anguish
residing by the river
of her fears this pumpkin
masked specter flows
beneath the breath
of a deleterious moon
its shadows coveting
the ground upon
which she walks
in a prophesy of time,
an integer of dread,
like pristine clocks
in a pettifog of
lubricity forming
makeshift mirrors
of the dead in the
oft forgotten motion
of bringing mountains
of apology to its own
vacant treachery of civility
like the verse of
vacillated prosody
it is cementitious
in its delight


© K. James Ribble


I am Carried in
by the flow of life

on a slipstream in
dreams razed in sighs

by Autumn’s uncharted
revelation here, in
this Now released

this insight resides
in its Occurrence

from clarity entrusted
To my memory

All those memories, those
Childhood Moments

Of all those people
that Passed my way

Even the faces of the
Children and the

Infinite lot of People upon
which the road is turning

the Road of our re-turn
Each, they too, shall pass

As so shall you –
As so shall I


© K. James Ribble