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Steven Riley Poem
Thoughts on California's drought
The palpitations in this wash basin
Do not belong to the wind or the sky,
Or even the sea
They are the eager feet of children
Surveying and searching the
Scorned land for
Foxtails and lady bugs.
The color is washing away
From the memories of this artist
Now he sketches children
Because it reminds him
Of hope.
Copyright © Steven Riley | Year Posted 2014
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Steven Riley Poem
The absence of touch attaches itself
To the narrow whisper of his heart beat.
Footprints echo in loving embrace
Of his fathers mummified conscience
There are memories that rise like the sun
On days when the leaves aren't kept
There are days when the rain won't come
All he wants to do is look outside And see him starring back.
Copyright © Steven Riley | Year Posted 2014
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Steven Riley Poem
My hands grow cold
In a room of flowers
And yours,
A fusion of water, bone
And light,
In the tender palms
Of a grown daughter.
For weeks now,
I imagine how softly you will go
And yet how profoundly
You have always been.
For weeks now I've tantalized
My heart with your voice,
Your steps and your
And your overall presence
Mom, If you were to put your ear to
My chest and listen to
My heart beat,
I wonder,
Could the vibration heal you?
I imagine it
Igniting the sunrise in your eyes;
The ferocity of motherhood
Bringing you back to life.
Copyright © Steven Riley | Year Posted 2014
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Steven Riley Poem
Light means
That a shadow will soon dissect it
At just the right angle.
This lonesome man wonders
Did mr. Williams see it coming?
Or was it more of an illusion
As it may sometimes seem..
I think he grasped it
Because it's beacon was so eternal
And I think his recourse,
Like an artist,
Will continue to fall at
The feet of those
That will learn the distance
Between shadow and light.
RIP Robin Williams. We miss u!
Copyright © Steven Riley | Year Posted 2014
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Steven Riley Poem
With the sun in the forceps
Of an ageless night,
The bells at the lighthouse toll
Until they are merely sterile
Breaths.
Occasionally, a ghostly whisper
Validates and dissects
Each tear, each truth.
I can't imagine their loneliness-
watching light burn
Until it is as small as a flea,
While we endure engulfed
In light,
Principals of refuge
And shadow.
Copyright © Steven Riley | Year Posted 2013
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Steven Riley Poem
Light moves through the trees
As if it were recording
The smallest gesture of your one open eye.
We could be talking
About how the carnations grew wild this year,
How the yellow one wasn't a mistake at all in a field of mostly pink.
We could be talking about
The riverboats and canoes
Softly rubbing
And how you said
They sound like footsteps
In the jungle.
Yes, we could be talking.
But we both know
That your hand in mine,
Will make these talks worthwhile tomorrow.
For tonight,
We learn that the universe
Is simply too big
To be our home.
Copyright © Steven Riley | Year Posted 2014
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Steven Riley Poem
I went to visit Alex
His mound covered by leaves
and gold light.
I felt close enough to hold him
And kiss his cheek goodnight.
In error I pardon myself,
Asking for a visit or a dream
I plead his tiny hand against
mine
Will help to seal the seem.
I balance my tears long enough
To lift my feet and run.
But there I am sterile
Waiting for my will to come.
I believe my tears are heaven
bound
As I search the wayward skies
Solitude so great I plead for
just
An impression of the sunrise.
Copyright © Steven Riley | Year Posted 2014
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Steven Riley Poem
This poem is inspired by and
dedicated to Christine Ha,
MasterChef season three
winner.
Christine, I'd like to
Sit and dream with you for a
bit-
You, the story teller
Me, the dreamer.
I'd like to wash my heart
In your evidence that
There is colors and
Meanings in this world.
Did the sea urchin's
Spine feel like the grass
That so many wonderful
dreamers
Know all too well?
I can picture them
Purifying themselves in labor-
Some with their hands,
Others with their heart.
I imagine a sponge in your hands,
Your fingers tightly squeezing
And the splash that would reverberate
As the water hit your soul.
Then i imagine the sun reflecting off
That image.
And all I can do
Is smile.
Copyright © Steven Riley | Year Posted 2013
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Steven Riley Poem
To convict a man
you first must break his spine.
He will stand again,
like a budding flower,
ever knowing the
tears that crawled
and wavered
in his hands.
He will only speak
your name,
my love,
and the pulses of
each finger,
wrapping around yours,
will vibrate the world.
Copyright © Steven Riley | Year Posted 2020
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Steven Riley Poem
How do you dream with eyes wide open
How do you dream
with eyes wide open?
Every breath tantalizes
and mesmerizes
the warm
and the frozen.
The warm-
A mystery of tomorrow
or seconds from now,
when human touch
seals a smile across
your face.
Where love is not pleasure;
It is the coin we toss in
the fountain
that reverberates and
defines and inspires.
We carry love.
Our frozen memories
Bridge to love.
It is the only way we can
Survive.
Dare I ask,
How do you dream
with
Eyes wide open?
Copyright © Steven Riley | Year Posted 2022
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