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Richy
Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 3050


0 posted 2011-04-09 02:23 AM


It was somewhere
tween
the emblem, of
always
and that
masked mark
of zero,                                              
where we started
to know
each others
cipher,
and sentimental,
finger speak.          

Do you remember?

Do you remember
how we
came
to be, on that beach
of black dice
that had
characters, instead
of snake eyes,
where we walked
unseeing
into the foresight
of conception,
that laid
on squares
of lava beds
groping  
over riffs and
cliff openings,
buttes
jutting into the
sky,
collisions of
stretched junctions
amid,
these bodies
of bucking water
and byways
of flesh
flushed peaches
and freeways,
breaching
each bump,
soft in the
road
untraveled,
erupting,
on rows
of ink like island
keyes
in search of,
our own
holy braile,
of
parted lip
language
liqudus,
in its thirst,
and forthcoming.

Each night
I compose
on my baby,
grand
as we would
take turns playing,
our piano of
penscript
rising,
from
beneath the
squinted eyes,
of sand,
writhing rhapsodies
to pair
apart,
interlocking
the notes
between us
forever engaged
in the harmonious
humming,
of our
would be scrabble
song
of crush and beguin,
tickling,
each others
ivory faced fancy
of expressive
ebonies,
banging, ballads
against backdrops
of impaled
unison,
savored, and
swirled.

As we chanted
to mouth
on the psalms,
of our trebled
hands.
.
I am,
a penmanship sailing.

Without
the pen.

A mighty mast
waving,
in the endowment
of its,
coupe de plume
brushing,
across the brow
of your bow
as you signal
me back
in glowing surges
of
heaven scent
midnight
codes,
right in the
mainstream
of this
A, B, Sea
alpha,
that no one
wanted to,
bet,
on lonely
togetherness
without one,
single
regret.

I was born,
on a heartbeat.

A thousand reasons,
why not
ago.

Before doubt was attached
by strings,
to limitation.

Do you remember?

Do you really, recall?

By the way,
you
were there,
too.

Right there next
to me,
clasping the hands
of my
dying deliverance
showing me,
the way
to run.

But I didn’t.

I just couldn’t
and
I,
never can.

These blue oceans
that abound,
in birds,
and music,
and
in feelings,
they all abide, in
the student,
in us
in the pupils.
that care
to listen,
to the visions
that only eyes that
look into the
throat
of the sun,
can smell,
and know.

Yes,
it was somewhere
tween
the emblem, of A
for always
and that
masked mark, of
Z for zero,
where we started
to know
each others
cipher,
and sentimental,
finger,
speak.          

Do you remember?

It was right in the
middle
of that
black sea
that our
fingers use
when we want to
touch
one another,
where L lays
soft
beneath clouds
of
grace, and elegance
in the middle,
of
26 chances.

That symbol, L,
is my
favorite, letter.

It represents
laughter
and like,
and…
well, you know,
that other, L word,
the one that ends
with an
i.

I always thought
it was really special
how
the first two letters
of your name
and the first two
of mine
make up,
your name.

Your eyes
are my grapes
and your kiss,
is my
wine

This keyboard
is,
the closest
I’ll ever
come,
to the soft
of you’re
demure.

As you always
and forever will
be,
just my type.

Others have listened
but you,
are the only
one who ever
really,
heard me.

Trapped, in this
endless crossword
puzzle
of going down,
cross,
and sideways,
in dreams
alone.

Your smile.

Ever being
the,
beginning
of my world.

© Copyright 2011 Richy - All Rights Reserved
Alison
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Member Rara Avis
since 2008-01-27
Posts 9318
Lumpy oatmeal makes me crazy!
1 posted 2011-04-09 03:59 AM


Wow oh wow.  Your writing is so clever.  You use words like few can or do.  I love the innuendo of your poetry and how smokey hot you make me feel inside.

Encore, Richard friend.

xoxox
A

Richy
Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 3050

2 posted 2011-04-09 04:19 AM


Thanks sweet Ali, you are such a charmer!

Hey whatever I can do to keep you warm and cut back on the amount of logs you need to carry in

Dream soft dear friend.



Honeybunch
Member Rara Avis
since 2001-12-29
Posts 7115
South Africa
3 posted 2011-04-09 02:38 PM


Beautiful as always but also very sad.  The spirit roams that is for sure but perhaps too unsettling for us mere mortals.  Write on though, my friend, because I so enjoy trailing down the page.

Helen


EmmaRose
Senior Member
since 2011-03-02
Posts 1376
Midwest
4 posted 2011-04-09 05:27 PM


So close, you can almost touch, yet so far, hence the poet's pining for his lady of vanishing ink.
Sad and so so good all at once.

faithmairee
Senior Member
since 2011-01-05
Posts 1441
Poe Haven, USA
5 posted 2011-04-09 09:02 PM


well, i believe this one is my new favorite one of yours...it's so passionately writtem full of the most awesome imagery...a brilliant piece of art...love it, my friend

There must be a poem in here somewhere.

BluesSerenade
Member Patricius
since 2001-10-23
Posts 10549
By the Seaside
6 posted 2011-04-09 11:12 PM


You write with a passion that is so pure.  You surely draw the reader in and up close,
and it makes me sad when I reach the end of your poems.

I will never tire of reading you, not ever.

So many warm hugs to you, Richy~

Richy
Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 3050

7 posted 2011-04-10 12:02 PM



Thank you Helen, you are just tooo sweet!!


Richy
Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 3050

8 posted 2011-04-10 12:05 PM



Emma I swear you just read my mind to a tee, how did you do that?

Love you my friend.

Richy
Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 3050

9 posted 2011-04-10 12:12 PM



Thanks so much Faith, this one got away from me a bit, it has, some potential but it just didnt have the flow I wanted... eeesh I just get so impatient and post sometimes before the write has ripened enough...

thank you dear friend, you're very sweet!

Richy
Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 3050

10 posted 2011-04-10 12:21 PM



Are you, sure Lori?

You make sure and tell me if you ever change your mind okay.

Thank you dear one... your comments sometimes make my eyes get... well you know...

Richard (((((You))))))



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