Poems for the Half-Empty

digging up graves never made me choke this much.

Lakhesis, Saga 1

When I was a child
and shamrocks grew across the street
there was always a voice

As I got taller and the smell of pine became less pleasurable,
as my lips became friendly with others�,
as different shapes became permanent residents
of my skin,
I can�t help but thinking
I didn�t learn anything

As I came home that day
feeling I�d started over
your bike was gone.

The peeling of tires molded into
perfect circles
have tattooed the streets
The pines still reign but they keep to themselves

The water still rages over the spillway
but whenever I look over
that
crumbling cement wall
into the creek,
the stones fall and become
all those pieces of me
and I accept your invitation

Today,
as I sit in the driver�s seat,
trying to take my eyes away from that
clear glass bottle,
I can�t believe
I once thought the world revolved around me.


Mo(u)rning Drops

Last night
I dreamed my father�s death
and I woke up in sour milk

As I swung the worn green door of my car open
a single raven taunted me from a
lamp post
We made eye contact for just a second
mutual hatred screaming
but no sounds came out

As
Afternoon waned like so many rotten pears
unpicked
and
abandoned
I saw three men in that little cove across from the
cemetery
exchanging tearful embraces
and I wondered
if their fathers were dead

And before tomorrow�s unfair dawn,
I�ll probably risk my life.
Not because it�s of no value to me;
I�m over that phase.
It�s just that
glorious victory
or
Westminster Abbey
is much more intriguing
than
willingly feeding
six
full
stomachs

Reviews

[Jesse Lynn]

Your second stanza in the first poem hit me like a ton of bricks. Amazing, truly. All throughout this piece, the imagery is flawless.

[mysticgmekeepr]

Jesus , you can really write! I'm very glad to have accidently stumbled upon you.
I will forever love the smell of pines, its a childhood thing of course:-) but they cover me with the scent of escape and freedom from dysfunction and chaos.

[Phantom Heart]

You have some very excellent lines and great descriptions. I enjoyed the writing.

[justjenn_2u]

a single raven taunted me from a
lamp post
My favorite line. I have much demise towards the raven. You must feel the same way. Not so much the bird, by the symbol behind it.

Nice flowing poem. Has a mysterious closure. Wanted to keep reading!

[John Destalo]

Both are brilliant. I like the first one better, not because of the caliber of the writing, the content just appeals to me more, I can feel that moment more. Your beginnings are always so brilliant in that they grab me right from the start and I always want to continue reading. Both the first stanzas really moved me.

[rachel D]

you've got some serious talent. i won't even claim to fully understand what you are trying to convey here but it had me hodling my breath in anticipation for what was to come. it reads like a super good story but i love that it is in poetry form. so much easier for me to digest and visualize.

"As I got taller and the smell of pine became less pleasurable,
as my lips became friendly with others',
as different shapes became permanent residents
of my skin,
I can't help but thinking
I didn't learn anything"

this part roped me in. growing and changing and experiencing and still left with that feeling of nothing gained perhaps? i have to re-read pieces like this and i'm going to. i'm sure i will have more to say once i do. for now, i am happy i found your work!

[Mae Bee]

Oh wow, Richard, these are wonderful. My god, the first and last one just really cut into me. Your words just rippled right off the page (screen, whatever).

"As I got taller and the smell of pine became less pleasurable,
as my lips became friendly with others',
as different shapes became permanent residents
of my skin,
I can't help but thinking
I didn't learn anything"

I love this, it really just sizes up what reflection is. It's part reflection, part memory, and part disgust.


"As
Afternoon waned like so many rotten pears
unpicked
and
abandoned
I saw three men in that little cove across from the
cemetery
exchanging tearful embraces
and I wondered
if their fathers were dead "

This...this is outstanding. The word choice here just reflects how well you see your actual surroundings, which some writers tend to neglect. The way your tongue moves when you read this is like kissing a stranger.

you're amazing. i can't stress that enough.

[H. M. Clark]

Richard, this is awesome. EXTREMELY well done, and almost dreamily. I love this. It seems like it was almost written in that half awake state where if go there too, everything makes sense in a very profound way. Beautifully done. I am quite impressed. Not that your other stuff isn't good- you are an excellent writer, but this surpasses your own standards. New favorite. :)