Chronology

I’ve transformed all portraiture of virtue
My being vantage of visage revealed as
The meeting of our hearts stand as coil
To the preface of us like the sun and moon

A fever dream, you fall into unconscious
Omniscience lay down inside me as
A prism that charts no spectrum towards
My gaze so I fall deep, deeply into your eyes

And just as you were leaving, I met
Those eyes, the eyes of a woman
Who knew what she wanted as cascade of
Feelings rolled into me like summer thunder

A blue cavalcade of paired embrace and sorrow
Knowing I will never see you again – but
Smiling anyway as you kissed my cheek
A sweet remembrance of time’s lost furrows

After all we had been through I felt
As though my heart now fell further away
Launched from some unknown shore of torment
Towards an open sea with no course charted

No one at the helm but me.

© K. James Ribble

destrictus ensis

I’ve been held like Damocles
In an unspoken position of faith
That to follow ones heart that
Heart will follow its path to

Fulfillment

Never did I consider the end flow
Of that timing in my life now stands
Before the forgotten gods a manifest
Of ill-begotten intent on finding purpose

Of Life

What wonder has become of me as I
Embrace the river of my life-flow a
Spacious endowment of insight to soul
A cashmere of regret not a mile off sight

Belief

Now transcends its own purpose guiding
Me to a mastery of revelation a birthing
Of awareness unto a star’s gate – an abacus
For rendering my dreams of you unsung

 
© K. James Ribble

Who Am I?

Years ago I witnessed a lurid dream of a
Massive mandala partially submerged
Just off the shore of Lake Michigan.

I was sailing upon a glorious schooner
Like the Adventure gazing towards the Shoreline
But my view was shadowed by the giant circle –

Between us it rose twice the height of our top mast
Was made of fine white pine logs appearing like
A toy left by a giant whose interest had waned long ago.

As I slowly sailed towards this magnificent
Structure, its spokes varnished with gulls and the
Entrails of their meals, I heard its Voice speak to me

A Familiar call, like a tentative temptation, to listen,
And listen closely: “If I were to tell you, you only
Had a few months to live would you believe me?” I barked

To my crew to quickly drop anchor so that I could
Listen further not wanting to miss this moment, this instant
That I might learn more about this Being, this voice I know

But don’t know yet.

© K. James Ribble

periphery

Mountains formed because of you along
A valley that sets aside who you are
Allows for the angle of the sun to cast light
So defines you still within a joy you lost.

Mendacity persists even in the afterglow
Of dusk a precious reminder of your skin like
The auburn stutter of a star’s last thoughts
As I rise to the chorus timbre of your light

Marked by this constant remnant of the dark
We’ve become tragic cause for sorrow assumed
And rest on the periphery of time’s loss of wonder
Just as I come home to you on Christmas Day

 

© K. James Ribble