pōrthole awaɣ


May 26 by The Running Son


pōrthole awaɣ




I need to write a poem for you.
I dunno where to even start.
My heart, the way I knew it,
that’s long changed, I can explain
but I’d rather not go through it.

But for you, I would.
I would do acts described in magick books.
Make paths, where no man ever could.
No masks, no broken flasks,
no rooms of old wood or port-hole pasts

I write in, could fight waves crashing,
or shape me through day-rocking dreams
the way you do.
Rock, dreams,
and I crash so softly I can hardly believe.

By you, no poem will do.
No one stream
of thinking
will wash a pathway
of brush or paint–

establish boat-life truth
from ink portholes, or leave signs
like the notes I cant help but leave you.
Fear too,
of the sort that sears

up and down the spine
and erupts in my mind
like an old wound
claiming a birthright, well timed.
You shine,

And I fucking lose my mind.
Poems are hopes
that a tight-beamed and lightly ported glimpse
will be received, thought through,

believed, maybe shouted about
inside believers of words,
and hopers
of signing the right signature
on the right dream,

and looking through the right portal
for the right ring.
Writing seems normal;
a rounded way to sing a tune best heard
in complex keys,

like you.





by Jim Aldrich

.namaste.   -• ö.tH(ink)Mÿstiç •-   .namaste.

blu butterflies live freee.


33 thoughts on “pōrthole awaɣ

  1. WilderSoul says:

    Sounds like you are in love….. ❤
    She must be special 🙂

  2. Ar Vhee says:

    Hi J,
    1100AM here..
    “Poems are hopes” —> i love these words.
    This poem is full of emo-tion.
    I felt it *hope* ….d(^^.)b…two thumbs up!

  3. Reblogged this on 5 Degrees Of Inspiration and commented:
    Exactly my feels…. those who know…. KNOW

    (this one has given voice to my own thoughts)

  4. Wow…. would that my paltry attempts at expression to the one whom shines beyond my porthole be as pristine and fine as yours…. 😉

  5. Where to start, your heart no longer the way you knew it! I like that it’s so true though to risk and then your heart stretches and bends till you don’t ever recognize it. I believe our hearts are capable of loving many people in different ways each unique to the individual. I also believe you can fall in love with someone’s heart not ever having laid eyes on them and to me that’s the best because lust is a tricky thing. I would rather someone love my heart first. So rare though to find someone that wants to know it. I love this poem you spill out so nicely!

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RFB editor Jim Aldrich, Joshua Tree CA 2013

RunningSon aka Jim Aldrich, Joshua Tree CA 2013 | This site is dedicated with the deepest gratitude to Dr. Cláudio Naranjo, whose writings gave me life.

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