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Something fell. How could a sound so loud
have been a dream? Yet how could a sound
so loud have left a silence thick as this?
There is so little sound you might be deaf.

You say, "hello," softly, to the dark.
You hear your voice clearly through the air.
The lighted clock says four A.M.
Did something fall? It could have been a dream.

It may have been the picture in the hall.
Why did you hang it with a single nail?
Or was it something not so near as that,
whose size and mass you cannot say?

Was it here in the city, a block away,
a mile? There would be sirens, surely.
Or was it something both near and far -
did a world slip dow

In the heart

In the heart, doubts

In the doubts, a small room

In the small room, a table

On the table, a map being soaked by rain

On the table

In the small room

In the doubts

In the heart

I have a mirror that shows another face.

I have a face that asks to hear a song.

I have a song with room for light.

I have light that is the red inside every color.

I have a color that is waiting for its name.

I have a name that means tenderness.

I have tenderness caught in a mirror.

Better Stay Home BluesDo not leave the house today, babe,
there are earthquakes in the air.
Do not leave the house today, babe,
there are earthquakes in the air.
That umbrella that you carry
won't protect your pretty hair.

Do not leave the house today, babe,
there are tornadoes in the trees.
Do not leave the house today, babe,
there are tornadoes in the trees.
You might spin till you fall down, babe,
and skin your pretty knees.

Do not leave the house today, babe,
you know the moon was full last night.
Do not leave the house today, babe,
you know the moon was full last night.
I think that something big and awful
may have come in with the tide.

Hea

I'm not usually the center

I'm not usually the center of attention.
Not that I mind for an hour or two.
Sometimes I feel I am my own invention -

but that is not my chief contention.
One simply does what one has to do.
I'm not usually the center of attention.

If my plans are in a state of suspension,
is that a surprise after what I've been through?
Sometimes I feel I am my own invention,

and should take measures for prevention
of others re-making me - of course not meaning you.
I'm not usually the center of attention.

I wish to avoid any misapprehension -
if I do not say all I might, still all I say is true.
Sometimes I fee

Cool BluesI'm stopping at the stop signs,
I'm signaling my turns.
I am trying to be cool,
I know about what burns.

I'm older than my daddy,
I'm not walking in his shoes.
He ate his milk and honey,
and you know he paid his dues.

Green glass on the sidewalk
that I don't always go around -
because my sole is solid
I just hear a crunching sound.

I sit at my favorite table,
it's the one where you are too -
I love to sit and listen
as you tell me what is new.

Soldiers on the street,
moon in the sky -
owl in a tree
getting ready to fly.

I hear voices in my head
as I fall asleep at night. &#

Your Man BluesI don't want to be a fat man, so I can't find my feet.
I don't want to be a thin man, seeking something to eat.
I just want to be your man - not too fat and not too thin.
I want to ring your bell, babe, and know that you will let me in.

I don't want to be a strange man, so people try not to stare.
I don't want to be a plain man, so people can't see I'm there.
I just want to be your man - not too strange and not too plain.
I want you to feel love, babe, as natural as rain.

I don't want to be a wild man, like a mule kicking in a stall.
I don't want to be a tame man, with no surprises at all.
I just want to be your man - not too wild

GapAt one end of the restaurant table it is the year 2012
and C. has just returned from a trip around the world,
to Brazil and Egypt and South Africa, India
and Thailand and New Zealand. At the other
end of the table it is 1945 and M. is in a jeep
beside a highway in Germany as 27 Sherman tanks
roar by at sixty miles an hour. I sit in the middle
and perform the spell that keeps the tanks from
crushing the table and my grilled flatbread
and my India Pale Ale and my wife's tomato
soup and grilled cheese sandwich and all of us
who are here beneath their treads. I can do that
with ease, yet spectacular sparks arc across
the voltage drop bet

I am so brittle

I am so brittle I could crack
and fall in pieces at your feet.
Sweep me off into the corner -
all I want to do is sleep.

I am so hollow I could melt
into a smaller puddle than
you might expect to see.
No need to step on me -
I only want to sleep.

Is there a code I have to crack,
is there a solid I should melt?
Give me the key and raise the heat -
let me sleep!

Water Music

It begins without a word - water music.
There will be singing, there will be a song.
But it begins with breath held in - water music.
It begins with stillness and with form.

A partial face, a single hand - water music.
One wish - to hide; another - to be known.
The red of lips, the green of leaf - water music.
To hide this way is not to be alone.

The image of a moment - water music.
Then it passes and a breath is drawn.
An artist makes an image - water music.
And a poet sees and makes a song.

What is this fire
within me now?
Is it contained,
will it break out?
How can I sleep
when I must keep
burning?

Gift of the night,
play of the light.
What will not burn,
that I will learn.
Morning will come
when I am done
burning.

What will this fire
be in the day?
Out of the night,
something will stay.
I will show,
you may know
burning.

Barbed Wire Ballad

Bring more barbed wire. Bring the heavy rolls
of twisted steel and metal thorns. Wear
heavy gloves, unspool the wire from the roll,
make loops atop the wall. Bring more.

Bring more barbed wire. Here are metal stakes
on which it may be hung. Go on and on.
Here is a wire cutter for when we are done,
but that will not be soon. Bring more.

Bring more barbed wire. Here are people
to keep out, there are people to confine,
here a place to make secure, here we are
on our side, thank God. Bring more.

Here are people, there are people,
here a border, here a barrier,
here are places, here are people,
here a wall and here the

House Burned Down BluesWell, my house burned down
six years ago today.
Yeah, my house burned down
six years ago today.
I think that I will move out,
I think I'll go on my way.

Maybe I'll go to the city
and see sweet Cindy Ann.
I might go to the city
and see sweet Cindy Ann.
But I heard that she moved
when she married that man.

I could call on my brother
if I knew where he was.
Yes, I could visit my brother
if I knew where he was.
He slipped out of my sight
without a real cause.

I have some fine friends
who are kind, who are true.
Yes, I have some fine friends
who are kind and are true.
But they are so far away,

Big House BluesI had a big, fine house once,
and life was good there every day.
But then a storm came blowing
and it blew my house away.

My baby, she was with me,
in the big house we would play.
But I lost her when the storm came
and it blew my house away.

My house was sweet intentions
and the storm was bitter truth.
Oh, I wished my house could bear it,
but my wishes were no use.

My big, fine house is gone now,
and I'm living in a shack.
Got to try to keep it solid
and to get my baby back.

And the storm has kept on moving,
it could be headed right for you.
So take a look around you, people,
check your windows and your roof.

Browse More Like This

More from *RichardLeach

Come See Me Tomorrow BluesI can't go with you today, babe,
I got trouble here at home.
I got to get some things together
before I am able to go.

There's a hole in the roof where a rocket
crashed into it last night.
I guess that nothing exploded,
so that should be all right.

There's a wild boar trapped in the basement,
it may be asleep by now.
I haven't heard it snort for ten minutes,
though the smell is kind of loud.

A high tension line has fallen
and it's burning holes in the lawn.
It shouldn't be much of a problem,
the sparks are only six meters long.

There's a swarm of bees in the bathroom,
they've been there over an hour.
As long as they keep loo

Getting Worse BluesI was broke when I met you, baby,
and now I'm deep in debt.
I was broke when I met you, baby,
and now I'm deep in debt.
They say love is full of riches
but I haven't seen them yet.

I was tired when I met you, baby,
and now I'm tireder still.
I was tired when I met you, baby,
and now I'm tireder still.
To get up in the morning
takes a great force of will.

I was sorry when I met you, baby,
and I am sorrier now.
I was sorry when I met you, baby,
and I am sorrier now.
I don't think this love is working
like it should somehow.

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Lullabies

by *RichardLeach, Feb 23, 2012, 9:53:53 AM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Traditional Fixed Forms

I taught my tongue so many things -
I taught it lullabies.
I sang them softly to my sons,
until they closed their eyes.

I sang them for the wakeful world
and it raved on and on.
It would not rest, it did not heed
the song upon my tongue.

I sang them to my troubles then,
my own, so very near,
and when they fell asleep I saw
how sweet their faces were.

My sons awoke, the world raved on,
my troubles stirred and coughed.
"Sleep on a while," I softly said,
and sang again so soft.

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Lullabiesby *RichardLeach

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Inspired by I'm a lullaby by Hanan

The image above the text is Hanan's and is used by her kind permission.

We published Unlike Things Must Meet in early 2011. Our continuing collaboration is A brave unbodied scheme.

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Submitted on: February 23, 2012
File Size: 660 bytes

Views: 252
Favourites: 19 (who?)
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*m-lucia Mar 2, 2012

sweet... so sweet...

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*RichardLeach Mar 2, 2012 Professional Traditional Artist

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*Markus43 Feb 27, 2012

we need more lullabies brother

well done

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*RichardLeach Feb 28, 2012 Professional Traditional Artist

thank you, my friend

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*Markus43 Feb 29, 2012

and to your inspiration my friend

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*aerendial Feb 27, 2012

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*RichardLeach Feb 28, 2012 Professional Traditional Artist

Thanks, Kristijan!

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*partiallyHere Feb 26, 2012

lullabies to sing all life long. that is particularly beautiful.

always putting words and music on my images, thank you Richard

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Mood: Affection

*RichardLeach Feb 26, 2012 Professional Traditional Artist

you are most welcome

so many of your images that i want to write for, that i have not done yet - i feel poems waiting for me when i visit your gallery even though it will take time to find them all

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*partiallyHere Feb 27, 2012

i should then try to fill my gallery again

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