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Richy
Member Elite

since 2003-05-03

Posts 3050

0 posted 2010-02-19 11:54 PM

For Ways

Excuse me but what is fact,
if its not merely an interpretation
of certainty.

After all, besides molecules and space
what do we really have left,
but slant assumptions?

Iota’s of interval trapped in insight,
or shreds of expanse torn clear of explanation,
a crumb of while
dropped on a floor
of explicatory,
or a dripping mouthful
of margin
lapped onto
life's rebuttal.

Reality is an illusion
that virtually,
won’t go away.

I mean if there was not gravity
couldn’t the ceiling
not be the floor?

Maybe we change our certitudes about life
a little.

Or, maybe not.

Hey these are all your principium’s on white horses people,
not mine.

Why is it when we look at someone’s face
we only see the outside features,
instead of a whole life cradle of songs,
and sadness.

These scintilla’s of shadow
that form atop the skylights to her soul,
or the dab of dimension on her nose,
that crinkles so when she snorts,
or the hints of span around the corners
of her mouth, that turn up just so adorably,
when you say I love you, over, and over,
and over, again.

Lets fill this chasm sweet love
between yesterday and tomorrow
with the entire of our devotion,
and sanctity.

Through the fiber of your core sweet dear
I seek, your cherish.

You, with your presence effervescent,
like stars can only dream of,
radiate
my semblance,
as the darker my heart gets;
seeing rainbows in mere paler shades of grey,
the brighter,
your smile becomes.

Everyday my thoughts float
from the winds of my lungs
to your lips heart,
laced with silk accedence
and pearls, of
engagement.

And yet,
it is the words, in and of themselves
and the sounds they are married to,
that fear you sweet love.

As they affright in humility,
that even they cannot invent the right combinations
of letters to describe your enchanting grace
and, delectable elegance.

I wish I could promise you a world
within our heart my love.

But it is cloud
that is promise, isn’t it?

Whereas, it is reaping, that is rain.

And still, life itself doesn’t even promise us,
to be wonderful,
does it?

I wrote these words tonight on a letter
of stationary and then folded it
into a paper airplane.

I closed my eyes and threw it
your way,
so very,
far away,
and the moon cried,
as the wind howled at that moment
as it seemed to grab it
and whisk it away.

It was foggy,
and it was dark as loneliness.

As it disappeared
into the mist, hanging low,
over the lake
as the sun cowardly ducked off the edge
of horizon.

I guess I’ll never know
if my message ever made it to you
or not my love.

But one thing I do know,
is that if you look up high into the night
and somehow, see my hand,
reach out to it,
and hold it tight.

Between your fingers
interlaced with mine
we hold there
all that we ever
really needed,
in that space,
in this time,
our, promise,
of love,
for ways,
evermore.

[This message has been edited by Richy (02-20-2010 12:15 AM).]

Marchmadness
Member Rara Avis

since 2007-09-16

Posts 9271
So. El Monte, California

1 posted 2010-02-20 08:38 PM

Nice to see you back and in fine form, Rich.
Ida

Bill Charles
Member Patricius

since 2000-07-11

Posts 10619
highways, & byways, for now

2 posted 2010-02-21 12:35 PM

Richy - your words are stunning, and deeply filled with your emotions. A very fine writing...

BC

latearrival
Member Ascendant

since 2003-03-21

Posts 5499
Florida

3 posted 2010-02-21 09:20 PM

Very nice to read and ponder. latearrival

Richy
Member Elite

since 2003-05-03

Posts 3050

4 posted 2010-02-21 09:34 PM

Ida, Bill, and MartyJo, thank you three for taking the time to leave a part of your sweet kindness. So very much appreciated!

Alison

Member Rara Avis

since 2008-01-27

Posts 9318
Lumpy oatmeal makes me crazy!

5 posted 2010-02-27 11:16 PM

Richy,

I find myself caught in your words - loving how you use them, choose them and put put them in place like a jigsaw puzzle. I love the love ... and how you express it.

You, my poet friend, captivate me with your poetry.

A

Richy
Member Elite

since 2003-05-03

Posts 3050

6 posted 2010-02-27 11:21 PM

Some people say, they write for themselves.

?

Really?

I write for the pure joy, are sharing one's self
with others.

Especially others,
like you!

Thank you sweet dear!

Alison

Member Rara Avis

since 2008-01-27

Posts 9318
Lumpy oatmeal makes me crazy!

7 posted 2010-03-05 10:39 PM

You are very special.
Yep, you are.

A

Richy
Member Elite

since 2003-05-03

Posts 3050

8 posted 2010-03-05 11:17 PM

What? Who me?

Ah no my darling, you just caught me on a bad day, that's all.

(Thank you Alison!)

Alison

Member Rara Avis

since 2008-01-27

Posts 9318
Lumpy oatmeal makes me crazy!

9 posted 2010-03-06 11:38 AM

It's not one day that makes you special, silly. You are special because you are special. That's just how it is - so live with it.

xoooxo
A

Richy
Member Elite

since 2003-05-03

Posts 3050

10 posted 2010-03-06 12:38 PM

Live with being silly all my life?

Okay, sure I can handle that.

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