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a c o l l e c t i o n o f p o e m s b y r i c h a r d b r y a n t r e i n e r t s o n |
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for Patricia
Business can wait. We merge through our voices' vibrations and my affiliative arm. We gaze
incidentally, our incurious attentions engage no passersby. we spin
a conversational cocoon, and
business can wait,
the sun can descend,
Jessica can again despair of our ever going to the mall today cuz
we're stuck in our cocoon, cooling
our faces at the window, softly,
softly
talking.
Copyright © 1991 – 2006 by Richard Bryant Reinertson All rights reserved.
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you spoke to me once i know you did, i have the memory, and i know it was you
now i see shimmers down the corridors and they have your hair and speak with your voice. you pretend it isn’t but i know it was you
and i know it was your smile lingering in the air as i passed but i turned and there was only air but i know it was you
and i felt a hand on my cheek as i fell asleep, and a whispered word: love. and there was no one there yet i know it was you
i know. and i’ll see you always in the distance always always until darkness falls and you’ll say that it isn’t, but i’ll know that it’s you
Copyright © 2003 – 2006 by Richard Bryant Reinertson All rights reserved.
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sailing exhalings of nicotine breeze shallowly drowning with shopping-mall ease found again lost again sighing in rhymes falling behind it's a sign of the times
walking by windows of bloomingdale's dead past the cold kittens on hollywood's bed fronting for cupid in soul-chilling crimes falling behind it's a sign of the times
aching for pasture but starving for green crawling for favor while making the scene earning the churning of methedrine minds falling behind it's a sign of the times
choosing abusing for profit and seers hemlock for warlocks with delphian tears socrates dying in corporate climbs falling behind it's a sign of the times
Copyright © 1987 – 2006 by Richard Bryant Reinertson All rights reserved.
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All that we see or seem Is but a dream within a dream. Edgar Allan Poe
when the play is over we emerge from immersion in images of life
after the death scene props fade into darkness the audience is revealed by the house lights waxy faces flowing into emotion remembering who we are
we exit return to reality and resume our accustomed characters in images of life
after the death scene props fade into darkness the audience is revealed by the house lights waxy faces flowing into emotion remembering who we are
we exit return to reality and resume our accustomed characters
when the play is over we emerge from immersion in images of life
Copyright © 1989 – 2006 by Richard Bryant Reinertson All rights reserved.
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A word is an unfortunate creature. Unfortunate in cause as well as effect, in existence of itself it is unfortunate. You see the color green. (But what is green? What indeed? is not the answer. But any other is the answer of the moron, the fool, the bigot. The damned. Be damned.) You say to me, green, and my mind turns my own color green. But is my green your green? (is black white?) Can you think to me, green? (in despair you will find your comfort.) Definition. (more words. A definition is an ambiguous circle of redundance.) And a word is an incomplete thought.
Copyright © 1970 – 2006 by Richard Bryant Reinertson All rights reserved.
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the wonder is in prior blindness to the multitude within, and in blindness now to linking tendrils seen so plainly by so many
the quandary is in how to
be
while
neither
here nor there,
while one says without that the inner is the real, yet lies within about the outer, and without about the inner
maybe then, i might be broken by unending unreason so then is breaking the cure for blindness?
will confusion then save me? or pain from relentless denial? will salvation then arrive before my adversary overtakes me? or will this ship run aground— its crew seeking still another craft to continue this journey?
Copyright © 2005 – 2006 by Richard Bryant Reinertson All rights reserved.
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