Short Riffle Poems

leaf
tumbling
down to pond
rings ripple ring
song...

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The plain song moves 
Drifting on the wind
Flags riffle
At its passing
A nervous horse
Prances and kicks
Death pauses
Wipes his plate 
For rich feeding 
Combat approaches
...

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Naught but a billowed vagabond
A breeze longing to shriek
Soar on an eagle’s up draft
Plunge, predator-like, to earth
Riffle the grasses as I pursue
The limitations of my fate
...

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butterflies flutter in your presence 
bluebells ring the sound of your voice 
bold moon gives bright sun a turn 
fireflies light when you smile 
streams riffle your name 
my heart hammers 
in my mind
is this
love
...

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Book pages riffle dance
Feeling its steady glance
 
Thoughts soaked up
Dreams turnup
 
Time doesn’t halt
Nostalgic vault
 
Somber fingers
Forehead expression lingers
 
Outside world nonexistent
Substantially existent


1/29/2025...

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A hunting riffle
And a yell…
On the blue shade of silence
Scratches:
Flashes light in the horizon
The quietness…

Worms spin the fortune wheel;
Interfere with mermaids’ songs-
Pierced by the arrow
The sunset is blocked
Between the eyelashes.




(translated by Laura Bogdan )...

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Some days I feel delightful
Others leave me feeling spiteful
One a few, I wish I had had a riffle

But they're just days at the end of the day
Meant to pass in different ways
How it does, only I have that say

So whatever a new day my bring
I try to remember to deeply breathe
And remind myself that how I will feel will be completely up to me...

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As daylight crept away, defeated
A darkness called me to be seated
Beneath a tree that was no more
Beside a silenced, absent, shore



a cold wind chuckles
passersby turn from her greeting
cul-de-sac trash swirls



a fallen sparrow
feathers riffle in the cold
a bitter wind howls



their hats now tilted
snowmen lean into the sun
carrots sniffing springtime
...

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i riffle in thoughts
on the threshold
of  this day

orchid folds
blush against
crimson shades
as memories emerge
in semblance of you

i can almost hear
your breath rise
then fall
amidst trees
like a mistral
of autumn's air
i shiver
in its touch
as i blush
within the rise
of thoughts
more flushed
then the horizon

day breaks
less satiated
then i
once again...

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M16-Noah Holden

I hold 30 bullets to the magazine,
I am the best friend to every marine,
Each bullet travels through my chamber,
When in the hands of a marine your sure to be in danger,
I shoot single shot or in spurts of three,
Pull my slide back to cock me,
My bullet size is 7.62x25,
Get shot by me and I doubt you’ll be alive,
I am an M16A2 assault riffle machine gun,
Come against me and your sure to be done....

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Sometimes a breeze can be
a pleasurable presence.
It makes the curtains shimmy as
it creeps into my room.

They ripple with a twitch and flutter now,
pleasant with a warmish ruffle.
But that breeze becomes a wind,
the curtains wobble, riffle, ripple.

Warmth has become wintry:
a wobble and a ruffle bestow
violence now with a blow.

Close that window and tell
that gust to go, quit, take leave.
Yes, it does have a name I try not to utter.


(30 Nov 2024)...

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Mist rises from the mountains and meets
rain clouds spilling down the canyon.

Fish ducks fly up river, their
breasts just skimming the water.

The heron stands in the shallows, his
neck arched, looking deep into the riffle.

Fish rise to feed in the cool water; the
river otters play on the grey rocks.


Rain drops like diamonds on the surface
of the water; peaceful moments on the river.



Just returned from a fishing trip on the Klamath River
in northern Ca. Glorious!...

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