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Richard John Poems
Am I To Know
There are some things Some distant things that even I Not even I can ever Will never be able to grasp,
Je me souviens...
I remember all the ills of my youth All the pain and iniquity that congested in my life; A voided vessel whose limits were boundless and never to fill. I always puzzled over what I had done to evoke your frigidity
Trahison Des Yeux
Black, black, Black and blue, That's how my life Titanic, did frigidly end
The Benediction of Christ
Like a great, silver wolf-hound, With a presence so hallowing, A conscience so apparent, Capped by wispy, thinning hair,
Hades' Inner Circle
Like a vulture grooming Its vulnerable carrion The demon approached me today. It was as though our destinies
A Death On A Sunday
He had stared intentionally And with intent into the eyes of His Father who returned the sentiments With a taciturn, almost deathly gaze.
Into The Hollow: Chapter I
Oh, my dreams doth wandered now Athwart the meadows and forth from the mounts I dream my eyes do, deepening thus, See light, as ever loathsome, foreboding.
Comments about Richard John
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
Am I To Know
There are some things
Some distant things that even I
Not even I can ever
Will never be able to grasp,
To apprehend and understand.
Because they are much too
Far-reaching, outlying, too unreal
Unlike real things, like dreams
Too far gone like memories
That mutilate, dissolve with age.
Blinding with light
That which eyes can’t see
But hearts can feel
Abstract, yet I know
I feel, hear it there.
But it is veiled
Permanent behind your cold stares
Limitless though seeming finite
To reveal it is to have
It burn me ...