Thursday, 28 April 2011

To Kate and William


This Penetrating wind,
sensate gusts,
formless unions embraced,
redoubled in soulful resonance.
How does one separate a unity?
Bonded at the roots,
connected through all eternity.
Time and space,
distant illusions to an infinite soul,
a shared remembrance of two made whole,
one soul, housed in separate forms,
metering out the hours of our passing,
Life to life,
moment to moment,
caught in an eternal present,
forgetful of this timeless unity.

No death, nor passage from this gray world,
no distance, or time, nor separation,
no harsh words, or bitter scorn,
no damned plague, nor heart forlorn,
no broken bridge, nor trust divided,
no sullied lives, nor minds left chided,
could ever break this ring, united.

Its truth, was in a kiss revealed,
its time, within two hearts concealed,
forgotten but for a little while,
rejoined by soul-filled fated guile.
These soulful winds, each penetrated,
restoring love, reverberated,
recounted, in each soul retold,
reborn anew, this love of old.
Each waking moments skintight bliss,
manufactured in this kiss,
was formed in loves bright bonded hearth,
and schooled in smelted parted bath.
In silence... both souls entwine,
and whisper of a love divine,
A majesty, both full and wrought,
in unity, both halves are caught,
and wrapped around, each one together,
the fulsome coil of timeless tether,
completed in this ring tied knot,
to birth new hope, in spring begot.

This Penetrating wind,
that soulfully resonates between the spaces,
speeds time, to broach those distant places,
leaving all those hard woes behind.
Impassioned memories,
the birthing pains exposed,
a sufferance of repose.
Yet, tight is the bond born of suffering,
the fiery trials, the endless yearning,
redoubling fortitude in the burning.
No bond born in so frightful a forge,
could ever be broke,
or rent by wanton tongues that first bespoke.
The tarnished remnants of remembrance,
chipped away, polished in the light.
Loves revelation of golden unity,
a ring of glistening luster,
dazzling and bright,
a bond of remembrance,
a unity of soul.

© Richard Michael Parker 2010

Monday, 25 April 2011

The Face Remained The Same

The Face Remained the Same

Thrust upon his throne,
he read his letter,
and turned the words, one with another,
in her mind:
He wept, forlorn.
The tap water hissed,
a snake in his miasmatic mist:
solemnity turned it out,
and it left the bitter sacrarium of his mind,
His very own pernicious inner blind.
With each brief tear,
a year.
He was alone.
A charted wilderness of boundless boundaries:
Driven, he would wander,
until at razors edge,
life would reveal a death.
We toss our own coin, an epoch or an epitaph,
heartily he would laugh;
The bastion, his spirited whole,
the only true soul.
For laughter offers all a gate,
to meliorate, this ambivalent
and capricious fallacy, we honor as reality.
Heartily he laughed,
a Brahmans smile.
Yet his face remained the same.

© Richard Michael Parker 1987