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The Novelist Retired (Poetry)

11/30/2014

0 Comments

 
by Richard Rowell, Write W.A.V.E. Media Staff
Picture
Photo credit: Pixabay, Public Domain

Aspirations of a novelist

Trying to recreate the magic

Of good times long past


They weren’t that great in fact

Just that today things

Move along much rather fast

Writing to educate

But the plot is unclear

Can’t seem to graduate

To the level of prolific story teller

So much wisdom to share

But the paper and pencil

He’s just giving a long stare

Then a little voice whispers

Hell, I wonder if you

Could put it in a song

 

Maybe I’ll hit the books again someday

But for now I got bills to pay

And a few things to write about today



Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2005

0 Comments

Wooden Faces (Poetry)

11/30/2014

1 Comment

 
by Richard Rowell, Write W.A.V.E. Media Staff
Picture
Photo credit: Pixabay, Public Domain
Wooden faces

Hide all expression

Showing no emotion

But you cannot fool me

With your false impressions

Your decorated masks

Aren’t clever inventions

 

Crooked smiles

Only visible every

So once and a while

Broken frowns

Reflect a broken heart

Strolling lonely

Thru this old town

A wooden face tells all

Too much pain

Too much to show

That should not

Ever be shown

Emotional overflow

No stitches can be sown

To tie these wounds

 

Wooden faces

Hide the expression

But not the emotion

You cannot fool me

With false attempts

Your silly masks

Are unoriginal inventions



Copyright (C) Richard Rowell 2005

1 Comment

Peace in Our Times (Poetry)

11/29/2014

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by Richard Rowell, Write W.A.V.E. Media Staff
Picture
Photo credit: Pixabay, Public Domain

Quiet, meditative mind

The order I’m trying to find

Such an ugly mess

The world surrounding me

I feel helpless sometimes

I have to confess

Waiting for peace in our times

 

Yeah, I heard you laughing

At such a notion

As peace in our times

Innocent human beings

Dying as obvious victims

Of horrendous war crimes

I pray for peace in our times

 

Do not ever forget

What evil runs amok here

Yes, I feel such devotion

To the task of holding on

How can this pain continue?

So I scream out in violent song

Hoping to see peace in our times

 

What this world needs

Has been said millions of times

The ignorance on which society feeds

We’ll never get anything good done

Only when we all realize that

We really are all the same

Only then there will be peace in our times

 

Love, is there enough for all?

I feel my heart in free fall

Floating dead weightless and free

From these dark chambers I flee

What I leave behind I regret

Moving ahead is so bittersweet

Off to bring some peace to our times

 

Often feeling far from adequate

Knowing the thin and thick of it

But these verses of seven lines

These pretty simple rhymes

How are they at all able to

And somehow can they help us

Reach our goal of peace in our times!?



Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2005

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Song of the Sky (Poetry)

11/29/2014

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by Richard Rowell, Write W.A.V.E. Media Staff
Picture
Photo credit: Stockvault Free Photo

Colors vibrant, air warm and tasty

Sweet aromas, bitter memories

Of what I’ve left behind

Nothing here can ever remind me

Of the despair I’ve wallowed in

For far too long a time

 

There’s a sweet song I hear in your voice

Takes me to a place of your choice

A beautiful world of imagination

A paradise free of any aggravation

A way to free my spirit’s reservations

Now I know I’ll never be alone

As long as your voice still sings to me

No way can I ever cry, long as I can hear

The song of the sky…


Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2005

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Fixture (Poetry)

11/28/2014

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by Richard Rowell, Write W.A.V.E. Media Staff
Picture
Photo credit: Pixabay, Public Domain

Your face is a fixture

That lights up this dark room

Your photograph on my desk

I sit and stare at your picture

 

It's like I've no other care

In this world that no one

Really takes a notice of me

So I just silently repair

 

Back to my little shrine

Set up in your memory

Leaving me here to drown

In my own tears, my valentine

 

The old melody plays back

From our first anniversary

I repeat that tune again

To the days of old I go back

 

You were all I lived for

It would seem love a curse

So long in tenderness immersed

Nothing but you mattered more

 

Now your face is a fixture

Reminding me of the past

I've nothing of yours left

Nothing but your picture




Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2005
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I Wonder (Poetry)

11/28/2014

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by Richard Rowell, Write W.A.V.E. Media Staff
Picture
11-26-14

I wonder
If I write
A poem
In this way
Will it be
Something new
Original 
And creative
Or will 
The exercise
Itself be
A poem 
All its own


Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2014
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In Her Court (Poetry)

11/25/2014

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by Richard Rowell, Write W.A.V.E. Media Staff
Picture
Photo credit: Pixabay, Public Domain

I've never liked these games

That love plays on a heart

They lure you in, then rip you apart

The words that I say sound so simple

Can't really do justice to telling

The Way I truly feel - there was one girl,

Who didn't dare to play that game again

After all the extra innings that she logged

After all the overtime that did her in

She no longer had any time for herself

No time to be herself

She had to play Goddess for one boy

And to another, an old throw-away toy

To someone who looks so fragile

You don't want to be stuck in her court

She doesn't play the easy games

The only game she plays is life

And she plays only as her self

She needs no alter-ego

No other face does she need

To show to the world

For she is beautiful anyway

But I can only watch from a distance

As she no longer plays the game of Love



Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2003-2004
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Insanity Fair (Poetry)

11/22/2014

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by Richard Rowell, Write W.A.V.E. Media Staff
Picture
Come see grand exhibits,

The fashion queen is here?

Hey, am I looking good, baby?

Our external appearance is

Such an overblown fear

Some would much rather

See chaos and perplexing absurdity.

They'd rather see something new,

Something they've never

Seen before, ‘cause seriously

This pop thing is leaving lots of us blue.

 

Insanity fair, you know I'll be there

You'll be looking pretty with bows in your hair

Yeah, it's all about the competitive flair

Dressing up so cute, applying makeup with care

 

Hell, man, we're loving the rivalry

Who gives a shit if you got time for me?

It's so damn great dreaming my fantasy

That maybe one day I'll hang with celebrity

 

Insanity fair, you know I'll be there

You'll be looking pretty with bows in your hair

Yeah, it's all about the competitive flair

Dressing up so cute, applying makeup with care

 

Pretty pictures taken

All over the covers

Of the pop magazines

Wonder how many are faking

This beauty they portray

Making peeps dress their way

This and that, right over here is

The perfect outfit in which to get laid

 

Insanity fair, you know I'll be there

You'll be looking pretty with bows in your hair

Yeah, it's all about the competitive flair

Dressing up so cute, applying makeup with care

 

Hey, girls, yeah, the sex appeal

Too bad this image of perfection

Ain't at all real, I hate the fake,

You know how I feel!

0 Comments

Invisible Glass (Poetry)

11/21/2014

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by Richard Rowell, Write W.A.V.E. Media Staff
Picture
Never sharing a word of conversation

Even if I agree with her observation

Looking in from the outside

There's invisible glass between us

We can't touch it, or feel it

It's just there, and we can't break it

Cause neither of us will try

You need to let go - of the past

I wasn't me then, understand,

I know that you've heard this

Said as a lie, but believe you me

I ain't lying to you

 

This glass is so shiny

I'm looking right through

But maybe the “you”

I see - isn't really you

Maybe my mind has gone

And exaggerated, overanalyzed,

This is so complicated.

 

There's invisible glass between us

We can't touch it, or feel it

It's just there, and we can't break it

Cause neither of us will try

You need to let go, of the past

I wasn't me, then, understand

I know that you've heard, this

Said as a lie, but believe you me

I ain't lying to you

 

Is it this unbreakable

Is it this unalterable

Do we really repel so much

Are we really opposites

Of the same magnetic pole?

 

Invisible glass, between the

Two of us, just there,

Can't be broken

Cause neither of us

Will dare even try

 

We aren't meant to

Say a word to

Ask you to

Understand me so

We can, be friendly

And stop this

Private Little War

Right here!

 

Invisible... invisible

We aren't meant to associate

We aren't meant to share anything

We aren't meant to wonder why

We aren't meant to understand why

This invisible glass

For some reason here protects us

There's something in you

And something in me

That may react horribly...

 

This invisible glass

May serve a purpose

But it drives me up a wall

To see you almost every day

I feel so helplessly small

0 Comments

Unpublished Novelist (Poetry)

11/21/2014

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by Richard Rowell, Write W.A.V.E. Media Staff
Picture
Eye tells hand where to point

The cursor, open file, and read

This is the story of a certain one

Who did nothing but type away

 

In all the days, the words add up

Millions and millions, hard drive

Almost totally full with only words

Stories, poems, prose, and speech

 

What are the lessons that this one

Poor soul was trying to teach

The outside world was too far away

To reach with her message

 

Who would have listened anyway?

For they would comprehend so little

Or nothing of what she had to say

The world, she said, too busy in play

 

Worshipping the Devil and feeding

His demons their souls and hearts

Such harsh words to vilify human-kind

They were the words of an, indeed

 

Unpublished novelist, who seriously

Was writing a story, not of course,

Speaking in literal terms, we would

Like to believe that to be true

 

We can't be sure, it's up to you

To read, and interpret, its truths

0 Comments

Work of Art (Poetry)

11/18/2014

2 Comments

 
by Richard Rowell, Staff Writer
Picture
Should I wait and stare
Ponder your image for awhile
Is it simply impolite or
Are you art to be admired?

You have the ingredients
That make a perfect woman
But is that really possible
Without a perfect man?

Is there such a thing
As perfection as we'd like
Not in this reality, no
It is more than unlikely

Some would be bored
With the thought of perfection
Each day too alike
But believe me, there is 
Always more to wonder

You are the proof that there's
Depth that doesn't meet the eye
To know you is to love you
You fill me up with such
Happiness that I cry

There are thoughts up here
In my mind that words are 
Inadequate to relay, it's true
In my mind, your beauty so
Infinite beyond the skin
In my mind’s eye so consistently appears

The verse seems out of rhythm
Sometimes, but you can blend the tune
Just when everything seems out of place
You walk in and liven up the room

The eye is so stupid and dumb
There is so much more to see
Just an outer shell is so admired
But for the whole, most don't see
This beauty infinite inside I most desire

This is a fire you've lit inside of me
Once upon a time, I thought one like you
Could only exist as my own fantasy
But it's true, it is, that you are true

You are here, among us,
And I will seem to do any thing
To make you notice me

As awkward and clumsy
As I come off to be
I hope that there is something
That you can love in me


Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2003-2004
2 Comments

Case (Poetry)

11/18/2014

0 Comments

 
Picture
by Richard Rowell, Staff Writer

I keep it locked in a fireproof case

But you can easily see the look on my face

My mind is a camera with limitless exposures

Got snapshots of every move you make

But my love for you too inconvenient

Lock those pictures away

Not really wanting recognition

Though I’d probably be a Gold Key runaway

All the people, they’ll ask who’s this girl?

Who is this really fine chick?

Well, man, I looked in those eyes

The deep dark kind of eyes

Which make your heart stick

This is a serious case, a combination

I’ve conveniently forgotten

But no, I can’t forget her gorgeous face



Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2003-2004

0 Comments

Staring Down (Poetry)

11/16/2014

2 Comments

 
by Richard Rowell, Write W.A.V.E. Media Staff
Picture
Photo credit: Pixabay, Public Domain


The full moon tonight

Staring down from the sky

We're under a watchful eye

We know You're watching.

 

Staring down

Ashamed of what You see

All this is, this tragedy

We live each day within

We can't escape the hearth

The glowing embers of sin

All around us, can't begin

To understand us, how much

We could let poison our hearts

Staring down

But this time,

We're staring back up!

 

The full moon tonight

Staring down from the sky

We're under a watchful eye

We know You're watching.



Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2003-2004

2 Comments

Beautiful Turkeys (Thanksgiving Haiku) 

11/15/2014

0 Comments

 
by Lyn Lomasi, Staff Writer
Picture
Beautiful turkeys

Showing fancy feathers and

Gobbling, Thanksgiving
*I originally published this via Yahoo Contributor Network
0 Comments

I Am (Poetry)

11/13/2014

2 Comments

 
by Richard Rowell, Staff Writer
Picture
Image (c) Lyn Lomasi; All Rights Reserved
(11-4-2004)

I am, what you see right here, I am

What this world doesn't want to see

Someone who goes against the flow

And raises his voice above the popular echo

I am, not what they want me to be

I am sometimes unpopular, sometimes

I am ridiculed so harshly by the critics

I am a little insane sometimes

I am little crazy o'er the girls

I am quite imperfect, you know

That's the thing, you see

I am a little bit more than outrageous, and

I've had times where I've been far...

Less than courageous...

The popular echo, the popular echo, the popular…

Individuality, uniqueness, individuality

You are special somehow, we don't always know

What you're meant to do, but we know that

You're more than all right, just as you are.

But where, when does the curtain fall?

When are you, just a little too outspoken?

When have you gone… a little too far?

I can't answer, you'll have to find for yourself

I am just one who makes you think

Through the words that I write

And I am prob'ly just another fool

Who tells ya'll just be yourself,

Whatever that may be.

Even if they don't like it

You see, least you can always be yourself

And say I am... this is me... I AM!

I am wild and free

I am what I want to be

I am what I am,

You gotta be what you are!


Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2004

2 Comments

The Invisible Tour Guide (Poetry)

11/13/2014

1 Comment

 
by Richard Rowell, Staff Writer
Picture
Image (c) Lyn Lomasi; All Rights Reserved
October 24th, 2005

Thoughts wandering
Concepts pondering
A purpose fleeting
Compassion bleeding
Time is racing,
Speeding along undeterred
And unannounced
Growing older by the second
Am I one bit wiser
Or is it better to
Be a penny richer?
A style of life
Is just another
Road we take
Free spirits wander
Never we're really alone
Someone is always beside us
That companion we may not
Always see
But the company
Is always there



Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2005
1 Comment

The Firmament (Poetry)

11/12/2014

0 Comments

 
by Richard Rowell, Staff Writer
Picture
Image (c) Lyn Lomasi; All Rights Reserved
(11-12-14)

Where the sky meets the water
That is where I want to be
Or is where the water meets the sky
Rather how I should put it?

I wish to reach for the endless horizon
The great infinity, the indescribable beauty
To reach farther, to dream further, to stretch
My imagination to the highest firmament

I long to dream of a place, a neverending sea
In which I can dive to find the greatest treasures
The strangest creatures and the darkest crannies
A great adventure like none before ever had

I wish to one day break free of all firmaments
To fly free into the starry night through the galaxies
The infinite universe ever expanding in harmony and grace
I wish to explore the infinite sea of the human imagination

The greatest firmament that ever was
That isn't a firmament at all


Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2014
0 Comments

Like the Fish and the Bird (Poetry)

11/11/2014

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by Richard Rowell; Co-owner of Brand Shamans & Write W.A.V.E. Media
Picture
Photo credit: Pixabay, Public Domain
"Like the Fish and the Bird" was written for an assignment during my Sophomore year of High School. But it was good enough that I kept it for my poetry collection.
9-5-2003
 
The man works the hard, cold ground
As the woman stares at the hard, cold stars
Dimly lighting the vast field around
There is a river and there is a tree
The river flowing through the hard, cold ground
And the tree standing below the hard, cold stars
The man’s arms hardened as the ground he works.
The woman’s stare cold as the night sky
And while man and woman look on life in despise
A bird avoiding the hard, cold ground
Lays her eggs in the tree
As a fish leaps unnetted in sunrise
On her treacherous way upstream
The man, and the woman,
Sit on their front porch
Looking at the tree and the river
Wondering why they can’t live their lives
So much easier and simpler
As do the Fish and the Bird

Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2003

0 Comments

The Innocent Call of Paradise (Poetry)

11/10/2014

2 Comments

 
Picture
Photo credit: Pixabay, Public Domain
by Richard Rowell, Staff Writer

(2004, Rewrite 1-5-13)


Paradise is no fantasy, my child

It’s just a little out of touch with Reality

Running parallel but at a much slower speed

Ultimate freedom is when thoughts go


Beyond the words and simple pictures

Into an absolutely interactive experience

It’s the Innocent call of Paradise

And it’s knocking at your back door…




Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2004-2013
2 Comments

Growth (Poetry)

11/10/2014

0 Comments

 
by Richard Rowell, Staff Writer
Picture
Photo credit: Pixabay, Public Domain
(2004)

Am I to be a writer of brilliant prose?

Enthralling the senses as would

A honey-scented rose?

Rather than trying to figure out

Why the water flows

We should look at our own soul,

And how it grows!


Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2004

0 Comments

The World Builder Rests (Poetry)

11/9/2014

1 Comment

 
by Richard Rowell, Staff Writer
Picture
Photo credit: Pixabay, Public Domain
(11-9-2014)

I built a world
But it crumbled
Beneath my feet
As my heroes rose
And fell so quickly
My villains triumphed
Enjoyed their victories
Celebrating wildly

The words didn't come
Did not ebb and flow
The way they were
Meant to, at first
But perhaps
The heroes were
Meant to fall
The way they did

Why is it
That my villains
Rule the day
They are, of course
Writer's block
And creative
Dissonance

My ideas
Seldom agree
With each other
Constantly arguing
Superiority
Priority
Confusion ensues
No one takes a stand
Except for chaos
Who rules the day

This world builder
Tired and frustrated
Will take a little break
To rest and refuel
On some sweet iced tea
And healthy snack food

The heroes
Persistence 
And Dedication
Will one day
Rise again
To prevail


Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2014
1 Comment

I Stand (Poetry)

11/7/2014

0 Comments

 
Picture
by Richard Rowell, Staff Writer

Here I am

Pretending to be

Another man

Somebody you dream about

I think about it, how vain

That such a man could be me

Can I stand?

Can I stand?

To be what you want

To be what you need

Two separate things

You can’t understand

Can I stand this anymore?

Here I stand

In a foreign land

Who are these?

Strange folks

Staring at me?

Who do you choose to be?

Am I really free?

In this critical land?

Your smile it warms me

And it pains me, too

Why can’t I get you?

To love me as I am

The world can be so cruel

I’m no simple fool

You won’t tell me what to be

Stand for what you are

Stand... for where you are

Today, you’ve come too far

And why, can’t they

Just like you as you are

Here I am covering

Up all these scars

But I’m still standing

As what I’ve always been



Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2004
0 Comments

Little Dark Ones (Poetry)

11/7/2014

0 Comments

 
by Richard Rowell, Staff Writer
(6-7-2005)

I hear the whispers

Where no one else

Can hear a thing

Night turns into day

And they hide away

Scared of what the

Sun will bring

They hide

Deep inside

Of themselves

Never to come out

Until the night

Comes back, the darkness

They can't do without

 

Squeals and squeaks

Dancing on little feet

They chant softly

But I can hear

Doom is near

At midnight they cry

They look into the sky

 

They hide

Deep inside

Of themselves

Never to come out

Until the night

Comes back, the darkness

They can't do without

 

The stars die out

The flame burns out

The cold wins out

But that day has

Not yet come

They wait for the end

For them there is no hope

 

They hide

Deep inside

Of themselves

Never to come out

Until the night

Comes back, the darkness

They can't do without

 

Onto another place...

They hope their souls

Can transcend


They wish they could ascend

Right now


Pining long and hard

The gaps they cannot fill

Leaning out a floor 24

Windowsill, waiting for the push!

 

Don't hide your face

You still have some grace

There are those that still care

Most of us need another chance

To find a compassionate embrace

There's still a little hope

For the human race...

 

Don't give up on this life

Little dark ones...




Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2005

0 Comments

Serendipity (Poetry)

11/6/2014

0 Comments

 
by Richard Rowell, Staff Writer
Picture
(February 2005)


I am a wandering soul,

continuing to slowly patrol

this world ever changing.

 

Looking to the sky,

seeing patterns in the stars,

to explain Life by.

 

Every day I find

I have such serendipity,

finding such beauty

 

always boggling my mind

in such random places.

I feel overwhelming duty

 

to offer my pity

to those

who can’t find peace.




Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2005

0 Comments

Wasted Pity (Poetry)

11/6/2014

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by Richard Rowell, Staff Writer
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(6-4-2005)

Pity is wasted on the unworthy

Far too often, disadvantage of empathy

Then you find someone especially

Most certainly deserving sympathy

Becoming so attached emotionally

And getting involved so intimately

Pouring out unmitigated sympathy

 

So it is when you’ve felt so much…

Wasted pity… emotions overwhelm

You use the weak spirited as a crutch

But who is really at the helm

Of this life you despise so much

Who is handling the clutch?

Who’s director of your life’s film?




Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2005

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