[x]

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

No Time for the BluesI had no time for the blues,
but they had time for me.
They came to my house
about a quarter to three.

I had to get out of bed
when they knocked on the door.
But why had they come?
They would not tell me what for.

I was awake with the blues
for the rest of the night.
And oh, I saw the blues
by the dawn's early light.

It was a quarter to nine,
I had things I should do.
But I couldn't go out,
I was feeling so blue.

And so I said to the blues,
you must have somewhere to go.
They glanced at the time
and they answered me no.

I had no time for the blues
but the blues didn't care.
All the time in the world
is what the blues h

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

Love Walked Alone

Love walked alone. The party was nearly all
such parties ever are – faces, voices, open arms.
But she had stepped outside without a word
or sign, then left the building for the street.
There she bent down, undid her shoes and stood
on the sidewalk in bare feet. She knew the city well,
had traced many paths through it, heard many times
the same hearts beat, the same voices, the same
silences and sighs. She could hear them now.
But every walk brought surprise, and tonight
there was singing somewhere, how far away
she was not sure, but a great many voices rose.
She went in what seemed the right direction,
following the grid o

Browse More Like This

Download File
HTML, 416 bytes more ▶

More from *RichardLeach

Rhyming"Alarm will sound" -
go on and sound it.
Take the exit,
be glad you found it.

Basket full of trouble,
boxcar full of stone.
Leave one here,
drag one home.

Cactus Cathy and Gentleman Jim
met in the desert and went for a swim.

Dreams are trains
without a track -
they take us away
and don't bring us back.

Elevators go up
all the way to the top -
in dreams they may
refuse to stop.

Forgetting is lovely, remembering too;
either one can make you happy,
either one can make you blue.

Gather your wits, if you can, if you're able,
round them up and sit them at your table.
Fill their glasses, then sit back and listen;
sip you

Breaths and silencesUnsleeping, Adam leaves the bed to take
a sedative, then slides back in. Eve's deep
breathing tells him that she did not wake.
He lies there thinking back upon the year
he lay awake and listened, wrapped in fear,
to make sure she was breathing, and how sleep
would tug him down; recalls how glad he was
to hear her snore. She is snoring gently now.
He thinks of wakeful nights he slept alone,
and then of all the lovers who have known
these breaths and silences; he'll write a poem.
He starts it in his head to pass the time.
He makes a line or two he wants to keep,
repeats them to himself as he falls asleep.

View Gallery · View Prints

Featured in Groups:

Not currently featured in any groups.

Details

Submitted: February 5, 2011
File Size: 416 bytes

Link

Thumb

Statistics

Comments: 33
Favourites: 25 [who?]
Views: 324 (0 today)
Downloads: 3 (0 today)

[x]

Splatter

by *RichardLeach, Feb 5, 2011, 5:35:00 AM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Songs & Lyrics

Sing a song of splatter,
sing a song of stain,
climbing up the ladder,
coming down again.

We can sit together
on the lowest rung -
coffee in the filter,
coffee on the tongue.

Is anything the matter?
We will start again,
with a song of splatter
and a song of stain.

Splatterby *RichardLeach

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Songs & Lyrics

A little lyric inspired by stained by Hanan

Though she does not drink coffee... her deviation was coffee-friendly.

The image above my words is Hanan's and used by her kind permission.

love 2 2

joy 1 1

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~Dentalex Mar 5, 2011

Outrageously lovely, and absolutely sweet words. They drift so lightly!

I enjoy these much.

*RichardLeach Mar 7, 2011 Professional Traditional Artist

Oh thank you so much, what a generous comment!

(Sorry for my late reply, I was away over the weekend)

~Dentalex Apr 3, 2011

(I hope it was delightful.

)

~hoaxeye Feb 28, 2011 Hobbyist Photographer

Excellent work, both of you. I like that; coffee friendly.

I drink too much coffee for my own good. But that's alright, I allow myself a few small vices.

*RichardLeach Feb 28, 2011 Professional Traditional Artist

Thanks, James!
My rule is never drink more than one cup of coffee at a time.
(Cracking myself up here.)
Seriously, they do all these studies trying to prove it's bad for us and they haven't nailed it yet.