Inspired by a Creative Commons stock photo taken by Julien Bachelet

"One in the Morning"

2-20-18

One in the morning
Desk lamp still burning
Staring at a black screen
Unsure what to write next
What has never been seen?
Or put into readable text?

Pulling an all nighter
Hoping for something brighter
Imagining a brand new scene
To make minds wonder and think
Throwing everything at this project
Even the damned kitchen sink

One in the morning
How can it still be?
Just realized the clock is stuck
But doesn't matter to me
The sun is rising, what luck
I'll write about the sunrise, see
And maybe something about a duck...

"This is Our Triumph" is a free verse poem about taking control of your own life by choosing your own road. It's based loosely on the inspiration of a stock photo.

"This is Our Triumph"

All bundled up
My bag is packed
Only the clothes on my back
And what's in my modest pack
Are all that I have
I leave the rest
Behind

This is our triumph
To bring only
What we need
To free ourselves
Of the excess
To only be us
Free

This is our triumph
To take this journey
The travel itself
The adventure
The road our home
Wandering yes but not
Lost

"Hold Onto Me" is a poem about a guy who just can't seem to let a beautiful girl out of his mind, heart, and soul, because he feels like nothing without her.

2-7-2018

Hold onto me
If you let go
I may fall
And shatter

But the brown-eyed goddess
Says to me, "If I love you
I must set you free"

I shudder and shake
Unsure why she should
Let me go so soon

Hold onto me
I say to her
Your beauty
Is magic I need

"You have it within you"
She says to me
"To be free and fly"

But I will never forget
The touch of her skin
The soft of her hair
The warmth of her smile

"This is not right"
She says to me
"You will find yourself"

Somehow...
Someway...

I want to believe her
Even still today

"A Call for Prayers" is a poem about not just praying for or thinking about your own needs, but also to be putting positive intentions out there for everyone else out there who is struggling to find answers to their problems.

2/3/18

I need some prayers right now
But not so much for me
We all need to lift up one another
This is what we need to pray for

When you're feeling lost
I want you to dream
Dare to wish for something
Even if it seems impossible

You may be onto something
Just try and jot it down
Keep it in your mind
I pray that you can find the answer

This is a revised version of a poem called "The Philosopher" that I wrote around the 2004 U.S. Presidential Election, a bit of satire about the "red vs blue" fanaticism running amok at the time. It wasn't well-received at the time and in its original form was a bit clunky. But I felt it deserved a second chance, so I streamlined and published it for you all to enjoy.


“The Philosopher” (Redux)

O good philosopher
There's a little question I’ve had
I’ve been wondering, how it’s possible
That an average man like me
Can have everything go bad?

This morning in my car
I was listening to my favorite song
Heading to work, only to be stopped by a throng.
Holding rather huge signs

They read “Vote for Me, for Me.”

It was for the president, I’m afraid
Not the candidate of my selection.
My good philosopher, it seems everyone
Has gone mad about this election

I'm just on to my way to work
And I'm stopped by this collection
Of mad men and women
Fanatically politically inclined

I became quite annoyed
With this roadblock they’d designed.
Wondering, where are the police
This morning on Highway 29?

I began to think, maybe
They’re only targeting me.
But I spoke to one of them
One of the saner ones, I’m sure.

As it turns out, they were supposed to get off on Rt. 24

At a place known as the Oak Tree inn
But their bus driver
Became tired of their
Constant bickering and snickering

For he was the only on the bus
Who for their candidate
Wouldn’t vote.

The driver became quite livid
In a sea of morons he was afloat.
He had to drop them off now
Here in the middle of nowhere,

Perhaps hopefully to delay their vote
Because today is the day
I couldn’t get to work today
As the crowd only got larger.

So I hung my head, and turned around
Only to see and moan
That the traffic was held up behind me
All talking on cell phones

“Hey, honey, hey, sweetie,”
They were saying, or something to that effect.
“There’s a crowd of mad political fanatics, you see,
Today’s plans this will sadly affect."

Now why don’t we turn around,
You may ask, well,
That will have no effect.

Because there’s an equal crowd of fanatics
Right behind us I’ll bet.

And woe, were the cell phoners correct.
The fanatics were stopping us all.
So I said, leaving my car, forget work,
I’ll just go to the mall.

And then I thought, I’d visit you my friend,
Good old philosopher
Come to ask you for your opinion
What advice can you offer?

"I dunno, vote for the other guy."

IF ONLY THAT COULD BE

2004 / 2018

There's a little magic
Floating through the air tonight
I can see the stars
Peering through dark clouds
In the grey night sky

I hold you in my arms
All I feel’s the warming
Of your heart and soul
There's nothing else here
There's nothing else there

I close my eyes and see you close to me

If only that could be...
How happy would I be?

If only that could be
How joyful would I be?
I guess I'd only see
If only that could be...

Saying your name’s like
Tasting the rarest spice
In infinite quantities
To touch your face’s
Like the soft glow of the sun

But right now all I feel’s
The burning of my heart
There's no one else here
There's no one else there
I close my eyes and feel you close to me

Your voice is like a chorus
Heard throughout the world
I can hear the sweet melody
Of the words you say
The things you can't convey

The simple things
That make you
What you are
But it's impossible
It's just not possible

When only that could be
If only that could be...

When it could
Ever be just
You and me.

(c) Richard Rowell 2004-2018

Torn from the pages of spiral notebooks, here is "The 2nd Chance" from June 2007.

“The 2nd Chance”

6-1-2007

Junkies hang outside the window
Broken glass carpets the sidewalk
Sorrowful tears flood the hallways
What is left in these corridors
But the feeling of letting go?
You can talk all you want
But your pretty words
Won’t save me now

Lie through your teeth
Saying you care as you shove
A fallen angel to the floor
Drag her through a garden of thorns
Bleed her dry of life and hope I walk
A tight rope between hate and despair.
See you in hell, I’ll be waiting there

You look dreadful dear but...
A little makeup won’t hide the tears
Or mask that overwhelming fear
I’ve got no tomorrow but yesterday, she says
Proceeds to declare herself dead to the world
That could’ve turned its back on both of us
But the light shone on me instead


(c) Richard Rowell 2007

by Richard Rowell; Co-owner of Brand Shamans & Write W.A.V.E. Media

"Salty Tears" is yet another poem torn from the pages of spiral notebooks written by Richard A. Rowell.

“Salty Tears”

6-1-2007

Do you salt your hearts
Before you swallow them whole?
Cause it stings a little
Every time I talk to you

I hear a tear in your voice
Put there to garner my sympathy
Perfect bait for the crushing of me
Feast on my blood long as you can

Because I will pull away
I will forget you, but never the pain
Of pulling my heart out of your throat
The marks of your fangs remain

The scar tissue reminds me
Of mistakes I’ll never make again
The man trap catches no more
No more victims to feed your lust

But here I stand a victim
Of your broken trust
That you never should have earned
Leaving me to rust

(c) Richard Rowell 2007

by Richard Rowell; Co-owner of Brand Shamans & Write W.A.V.E. Media

"Dark Blue Heavens" is a poem torn from the pages of spiral notebooks written by Richard A. Rowell

"dark blue heavens"

1/18/07

is there anyone out there
in the dark blue heavens tonight
is there anything that could
be as lonely tonight?

i dream of a place
with crystal fields
a shining castle
of frosty ice
a gorgeous lovely
work of art
to be my company

is there anywhere out there
in the dark blue heavens for me?
is there anyone that could
take me away tonight?

when i close my eyes
i see nothing but lies
beautiful artful lies
when i drift off to sleep
i'm never counting any sheep
only the hours passing idly by
and the minutes the seconds

since you my blue-eyed beauty
said good-bye...

tonight the dark blue heavens
mock me and leave me wandering
for a new life...

(c) Richard Rowell 2007

"Birth of a Hero" is a poem torn from the pages of spiral notebooks written by Richard A. Rowell.

"Should Have Known Better" is a poem torn from the pages of spiral notebooks written by Richard A. Rowell.

by Richard Rowell; Co-owner of Brand Shamans & Write W.A.V.E. Media

"On a Bubble" is a poem published in January 2018 based on material originally written in May 2004 by Richard A. Rowell.

“On a Bubble”

1/10/18

(based on material from May 2004)


You sit on a bubble
Unsuspecting of trouble
But once you stooped so low
You were covered in rubble

Your foundation collapsed.
Built on hidden sands, perhaps.
Life’s full of mishaps.
You’re bound to make a few

But now you’re floating,
Infinitely high in the sky.
You don’t really care
If you run out of air and die.


You live for the journey
You’re not concerned
You don’t want a destination
You just wanna let loose and fly!


(c) Richard Rowell 2004-2018

by Richard Rowell; Co-owner of Brand Shamans & Write W.A.V.E. Media

"The Captain and His Accuser" is a poem written in February 2015. It's one of my more random pieces, I think. Enjoy!

2-17-15

“The Captain and His Accuser”


Captain of this fine cruiser
It is well past time to face
Your violent accuser
Your voyage is at an end
You've run amok too long
On a mission of unknown intention

What could you have done
To make such an enemy
What have you taken
So valuable to be worth
Fighting for even killing for
What its worth to you

Do not use your crippled state
As an excuse not to stand
Wait is it true that he lies
Is he the reason for your ills
Then I urge you still to fight
If only to redeem yourself


(c) Richard Rowell 2015-18

by Richard Rowell; Co-owner of Brand Shamans & Write W.A.V.E. Media

"Once I Was" is a poem that serves as the introduction of "Trixie Troubador and the Chorus of Forgotten Souls." It was written on April 28, 2017.

4-28-2017

"Once I was..."

Once I was a tour guide

In a ship on the River Styx
Entertaining the souls of the damned
As they slowly made their way
To meet Perdition’s Flames
It was always quite a journey
Those I would meet on the way
Of how their souls came to be sold
To my master, the Lord of the Seven Hells

But there was always someone younger
Someone prettier who wanted my job
Lies and treachery were commonplace
And I lost my job down there
Oh poor Trixie Troubador
What will you do now?
There are plenty other lost souls
Up on the surface above, I thought

But then I turned to realize
Perhaps I could be their guide
Away from deadly sins and temptation
Once I was a tour guide
Who made the terrible trip
Almost able to be bear'd
But now I know much better
That is no way to go


(c) Richard Rowell 2017

by Phoenix A. Desertsong, Staff Writer, Healer & Advocate

"Afar" is a short poem from late April 2017.

4-28-2017

"Afar"

To be here with you
A gift I don’t deserve
All these many years
From afar I observed

A hero worship
Can be a curse
Forgot who you are
Living life in reverse

Aren’t we all but mortal
Living under linear constraints

Trying to find a special portal
Where we can dream without restraints

(C) Phoenix A. Desertsong 2017

by Richard Rowell; Co-owner of Brand Shamans & Write W.A.V.E. Media

"Spells" is a poem written by Richard A. Rowell in February of 2016. The theme of the poem is the magic and power that words can have over us.

February 3, 2016

Words are like little magic spells
You cast them by the tongue or the pen
Or by swipe of a finger or stroke of key

Words of anger and hate
Are like black magic
They can make things
Wither and die
Spirits crumble
And beauty waste away

Words of kindness and love
Are like the whitest magic
Make life and all in it bloom
Grow and flourish
Heals the wounds
And rights the wrongs

Cast so freely
And often
With so little thought
We must not forget
That words are magic
We are all wizards
And witches of wit.

(c) 2016 Richard A. Rowell