Thespian Drummer

she talks to me in a sweet mountain
breeze in the looming nocturn of a
tinctured sky, the leafspeak and whispers
that sound like the color of your eyes

in the soft swell of your clavicle
the clavichord plunge of your lips –
I am lost in the language of your
curves found in frequency and forum

All of you emanating in the hymn and
harmony of your form, an azurestill of wonder
where sound lays seamless across time
time that cannot speak nor ply my heart

against these fulminations, the incantations
of your song, the native tongue of your
figure in fuchsia pressing softly, ever so
softly on my soul as evening serves us life

nectarean and unremitting

© Thespian Drummer

I am open to you.

Seamless.

Like warm pockets of water

In the ice of Superior,

 -and you look at me-

Suspended from access and weight as

I become Admission to this moment:

Like a Capillary of time’s aperture,

Free-falling toward your light, after-glow

Of your own expansion, as your essence

Cartwheels among a thousand dreams

Into waves         of us on

           the shoreline of Emerges

Onto your own Shoulder of Orion

Salted water on a fresh abduction

Entrusting the majesty of love

To the Open sea of us,

So There are no other gateways –

Beside the one I walk towards

                            I Exit into your breathing,

                            Into your eyes.

The forest beckons me, its floor

calling me to the entrance of her daylight

            smothered in green

            flush with the touch of moss

 and the element of Water –

In this elevation I am floating

hovering above the nothingness of clouds as

            they carry me, carry me far beyond

            the calling of my name

            where air is water like the aster blue

apron of carriage, of time’s sentience in

the nature of Light, beyond my own hand

where lies your approaching touch

            never once doubting my intonation

            borne by the color of your eyes –

© Thespian Drummer

At prevue’s glance, shown in
a murmuration of memory
such purity in motion

where I draw in to you
without question – resolute
in my dream that culminates,

enlumines the form of your Light
known only to you and I
where the stars weep in agony

of losing their sight to the
soft bezel of your eyes and the
measure of your laughter

long before these words unfold
into the night of skies —
into the day’s last gaze of sun

In to you
 
Drunk in your sovereignty
Ownership has no presence
Here, even if

If all the world
Were the bounty for
My love for you

I would never release it
There is nothing in
This universe that

can compare to the
gainful look of your smile
bringing Tears to the wingspan

Of every swallow in these lands
where I am yours
we belong to us

©Thespian Drummer

Ephemeris of Time
Lays on the mountain
Like clouds lay gently
On the shoulders of Aspens

My brothers live here
for generations Far
beyond recorded history
These aEons of Life

In an unknown world
Bringing to bear the
Afterlife of kindness
In light of and Before

such chaos

And yet

As donned the mask
Of mans gold destiny the
Same Floating bergs of ice
These white crystals

Carried me to shore
In their arms the very
Footprints made, left by
Our mention to the sea

The soft spoke whisper
Of ancient deities found
Naked, contentious as
A mirror of human folly

© Thespian Drummer

How time has culled

morphology beyond confluence

where correlations abound

in dubious choices,

mere happenstance profound in

its articulate randomness yet not

without notice given weight to

sacred idylls of lost lifetimes

the repeated

endlessness of ever-knowing,

ever-reaching into the Light –

© Thespian Drummer / Photo: Ojito Wilderness, NM

Your morning kisses
Sustain me throughout my day
I taste the sunlight

You find it hard to believe

Your spirit is beautiful

Of Hibiscus and spearmint

The headwinds of an

effortless ply of time, a lovely

soul who washes over me

Like rain in August like the

Horizon in Silhouette of

a Romanesque dawn

Like the fingers of spring

in an ambush of nightfall

Calloused in the soft acre

Of its touch, on an awakening

Both Immediate and clear in

mornings canvassed by the

iris mauve of this desert,

Like a shoreline Motioning me

to a whit of flight

A carrier of sunlight in

the soft loss of time —

© K. James Ribble

The sky forms its light

in the hemlock blues          

         of a silent rhetoric          

         a phrasing of calm

shaping me in

adjacent longings          

         where I am caught          

         in its nascent facts

in scrolls of wringing

sacred moments borne

          by the glance of your eyes

          forming like a gallica rose

from the garden spark of

inherent memory,

          orbs of carried light

          motioning me to a place

unknown yet known to us

free of this Earth’s marriage

          to loneliness, baled

          in echoes of

its effervescence,

an embayment in blue,

          its ordinate shown

          by the depths of your song

singing in calculations,

the Arc and Flame of you –

_____________________________

© K. James Ribble