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ValentineI know the ancient words and I speak the newest talk -
my pantry's full of pie and my front door has a lock.
You can be my fiddle and I can be your bow -
I can play the high notes so soft and sweet and slow.
I know you need a quiet place where you can mend your dreams -
my daddy was a tailor, I can sew those ragged seams.
I've heard that there are angels who are jealous when we kiss -
they look at us and think about all the things they miss.
There is something to be said for not rocking any boat -
but if you rock with me I know we can stay afloat.
I asked the higher powers if our love would be okay -
they said love is always risky but do it anyway.
I used to know just what to do, I had a master plan -
the only thing I know now is I want to be your man.
This is no brief love affair and this is no mistake -
this love is mine to give and my heart is yours to take.

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.

I went to the zoo and let some wild things out.
That was a whisper - do not make me shout.

I kept on driving when the road ran out.
That was a whisper - do not make me shout.

I erased my book and tore the pages out.
That was a whisper - do not make me shout.

I love my life but with a trace of doubt.
Can you hear me whisper? Do not make me shout.

Here is an orchestra of forty-two -
not too many instruments nor too few.

What happened to the sixteen violins?
Each one has blistered varnish, streaks of soot.

Some reeds and horns have injuries as well.
But many shine and show no sign of harm.

Tonight there is a problem with the score -
the pages disarrayed and on the floor.

We look to the conductor - shreds of light
press in upon the darkness where she stands.

She stands with head bowed down for much too long.
A singer walks on stage - has this been planned?

And the conductor lifts her head and hands.
There will be music. There will be a song.

Not the one that appears every two or three years -
the one that appears once in forty-four years.

Not the one that is full for a single night -
the one that is full every night it is in the sky.

Not the one on which to see a man or a rabbit -
the one on which there are branches and leaves in silhouette.

Not the one that is drowned out by a glowing city -
the one that is as bright above a city as it is where the sky is darkest.

Not the one by which you might read a newspaper headline -
the one by which you can read what had been invisible.

Not the one whose name is part of a figure of speech -
the one that asks us to say something new.

Thin IceThe ice is thin, the ice is thin -
the shore more distant year by year,
and nearly sixty since I left it now.

There is no going back again.
And I am old yet not so very old -
I bless the ice. I pray for cold.

Wild Place BluesThe place I live is wild, babe,
and that is not just talk.
There are rattlesnakes in the bushes,
so be careful where you walk.

The place I live is wild, babe,
the dreams are ten feet tall.
They carry you just like a child,
if you can sleep at all.

The place I live is wild, babe,
there are poets on the street.
You may hear things never heard before
from anyone you meet.

The place I live is wild, babe,
no map can show the way.
But I will tell you if you ask me,
and you could come today.

You say your heart is wild, babe,
you don't know what to do.
Well, I think the place I'm living
might be just the place for you.

I love you, baby, like a train loves a track.
You take me where I'm going, then you bring me back.

I love you, baby, like a flower loves a bee.
I know you can sting but you seldom sting me.

I love you, baby, like an actor loves a role.
You tell me what to do and I still feel control.

I love you, baby, like the winter loves the spring.
Until you melt the ice, I don't feel a thing.

I love you, baby, like a window loves a view.
I like the way you want me to want to look at you.

I love you, baby, like the blues love a song.
Got to sing soft or loud in a world that's gone wrong.

I love you, baby, like a story loves a book.
If there is a last

Snowing in the Bedroom BluesIt's snowing in the bedroom
and in the kitchen there is sleet.
Yes, it's snowing in the bedroom
and in the kitchen there is sleet.
Got to wear a coat and hat,
just to get something to eat.

This all started when I said something
that you know I did not mean.
Baby, it was something
that you know I did not mean.
Now it's the coldest situation
I have ever seen.

Do you see me turning blue, babe?
Don't you think this is enough?
You must see me turning blue, babe -
don't you think this is enough?
Time for you to end this winter
and to thaw me with your love.

But it's snowing in the bedroom
and in the kitchen there is sleet.
Yes, it's snowing in

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

The Trees' Gifts

You may take the trees as a hiding place.
Place yourself among the trees when you
are angry or sad or in need of solitude.
The place is freely entered and freely left.
The trees have life but have no thoughts
and no feelings. This is one of their gifts.

You may take a novel as a hiding place.
Find yourself inside a story, as freely
entered and left as a place among trees.
The novel may be a printed book,
its paper from trees become pulp.
This is another of their gifts.

Or you may read a novel on a screen.
Then the trees themselves are hidden,
precursors of the digital page.
Not to be needed is their last gift.
Angry or sad or in nee

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

You sit in the saddle as you were taught.
Sleep is beneath you, still as a statue.
The reins are loose in your hands. You squeeze
with your legs as you should, below the knees.
Sleep does not move.You cluck with your tongue.
"Walk," you say clearly. "Walk." Sleep does not.

You sit in the saddle as you were taught.
You hold the reins, you kick with both heels.
Sleep does not move. You sit in the saddle.
Where is that crop? Your feet leave the stirrups.
You dismount and stand close beside Sleep.
You look into its wide eye, then step back.
Sleep gallops off. You have to laugh.

Legal BluesI got so blue that I was thinking
it must be against the law.
I got so blue that I was thinking
it must be against the law.
The blues broke in and robbed me,
they took all the joy they saw.

So I found me a policeman,
to arrest these blues.
I said, "Please, Mr. Policeman,
would you arrest these blues?"
He said, "Son, I'd like to help you -
I got to give you the news.

"The blues go so far back, son,
they can't be made illegal now.
The blues go all the way back,
they can't be made illegal now.
They're old as drink or as the devil,
there is no way it would work out.

"Well, if the blues were illegal,
cops would deal wi

Another BluesI think I'll hire me a thief
and have him steal my blues.
Yes, I will hire me a thief
and have him steal my blues.
He could sneak right through the alley
between me and Mister Wu's.

Maybe I'll get me a magician
to make my blues disappear.
I might get me a magician
to make my blues disappear.
I don't care where they go to,
as long as they're not here.

Well, I could call Captain America
and have him come by today.
I could call up the Captain
and say, "Please come today."
He could assemble the Avengers
to drive my blues away.

But what would be the best thing
is that my baby would come home.
You know the very best thing
is that my baby would

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Then and now

by *RichardLeach, Feb 8, 2013, 9:50:11 AM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Traditional Fixed Forms

Elevators may stop between floors -
Shout aloud for help until the doors
Can be pulled open by the friend who hears.
A voice and friends is what we need and all we have.
Peace may come, may end certain wars.
Elevators will still stop between floors.

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Then and nowby *RichardLeach

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Inspired by escape by Hanan

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

We have just published our second book of photography and poetry, A Brave Unbodied Scheme.

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Submitted on: February 8
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Views: 113
Favourites: 12 (who?)
Comments: 17

*Markus43 Feb 11, 2013

Let me out!
Here with just me
Not ready for a retrospective moment
Let me out.

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*RichardLeach Feb 11, 2013 Professional Traditional Artist

We hear you, man! Be cool, we'll have those doors open in moments.

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~rabidmoon Feb 10, 2013

I really love this, it's humanity and warmth really comes through - it make me think of Shel Silverstein for some reason, only repackaged for grownups.

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*RichardLeach Feb 10, 2013 Professional Traditional Artist

That's a great compliment, thank you most kindly indeed.

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~rabidmoon Feb 11, 2013

You're welcome! In truth I owe you all an apology for not having been able to take more time in YOUR galleries!

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*RichardLeach Feb 11, 2013 Professional Traditional Artist

No problem at all - time is the thing, everyone only has so much of it! A good Monday afternoon to you.

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~rabidmoon Feb 11, 2013

...and to you as well! The day is nearly over here, so hopefully this reaches you in time.

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*RichardLeach Feb 11, 2013 Professional Traditional Artist

it did, thanks

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*aerendial Feb 9, 2013

what a beautiful words... with you two always surprises.. nothing is the same, always movable, explorable...

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*RichardLeach Feb 9, 2013 Professional Traditional Artist

thank you most kindly, Kristijan - really appreciate that

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