Running ̊Son – Poems collection pt. 8


July 16 by The Running Son

“Mystical Magical” by DesertWinds click4source

-• ö.tH(ink)Mÿstiç •-

Here’s the best of my unpublished poetry over last week or two. Part 8. Love you all. Enjoy. 😉

Related posts:

All Poetry by RunningSon, aka Jim Aldrich

 ̊Running ̊Son


collection pt. 8

“The bell”

The ground, a sound,
rhythm all around.
Just a tone–alone
no religion’s known.

We groan, and I’ve found
my home of profound
life heuristics for lone
and ordinary mystics.

The Poetry Question: QOTD – What is truth?

“Deep metaphor”

Her eyes were super round, like the roundest circle.
Her dress was really maroon, more red in color, than purple.
Her bed was uber rumpled, like a bed that was just slept in,
and her brain was beautiful, like the word beautiful, in cursive.


written for prompt from We Drink Because We Are Poets

Moon: 6.23=11″

I am wide.
I side
with all fallen stars
and all earth
claiming Mars.

FB poem

“That look”

He should have listened. He could see that now.
She could dismiss him with a wink, and a bow.
Just missed the sink when the panic set in.
Sunk to his knees when the truth settled in.

The eyes in the mirror cant speak any clearer.
Her spherical eyes threaten him with half lidding
dumb-footed and silly in his bumbled replies.
He should have listened; her eyes were not kidding.



For: The Daily Prompt- July 15th – “prompt: He should have listened. He could see that now.”

“tried by fire”

Nothing can break
me now. Fortifying
from within will condition
this being of flesh
and skin, leaving
something, not
so much human
as human again.

FB poem

“eyes are the window”

I have leaved through book pages
and bought the help of sages
I have consulted deep astrologers
and stolen tricks from mages.

I have pieced together integers
to see your soul emerge, in stages.
I’m so glad you stopped. It seems
like I’ve been out here looking in

for ages.


For: The Daily Prompt- July 10th – “I’m so glad you stopped. It seems like I’ve been out here for ages.”

“fast un-fasting” (or, Ramadan 2k13)

Fasten your seat belt.
Passion will be felt.
The politic-impassioned help
prayer rugs unfasten,
and roll out.

Prompted by a post from fluteplayer

“entry 1=1″

I made a list, and I checked it.
One life to live—you guessed it.
Never willing to exit it,
without once loving exquisitely,
thunderously, uninhibited.

I left the rest of the bucket-list
in my head like it dont exist.
Now, I found my twin prime.
Because of this, the rest
at no time ever will be missed.


The Daily PromptJuly 3rd – What have you done for YOU lately?

“a poem about the simple”

Hearts speak in the dialect
of essentials, and essence;
they mention the special way
words make us make sense,
kept simple, and elegant.

Comment poem for Belinda (: ☼

“wood and skin”

What’s the difference between me
and you? I live in a tree, and you,
in a shoe. The too much feeding
and cleaning and doing,
and the spanking and the shoeing,
and this meaning to kick me blue
until I am red-welt blister-ache oozing?

I branch freely and seize winds to
help de-leave me. I root to water; streams,
and any source that quenches age rings.
I sing; breezes whistle across budding
spring branches reaching, a vibrating
that reinstates leaves, reinvigorates–
me sitting, a lotus, in this transforming

and fitting blue shade.


The Daily PromptJuly 1st: “What’s the difference between me and you…”

“Poetry is”

Poetry is the dimensional meta-coding
of formal definitions. Conversation
tones, normally, own just those
words zoned for linear exclamation,
sufficient momentary efficiencies, and
the daylight rational explanation of
hooking and reeling in thought. If wrought
in prose, tonic sparks attract, like love,
the non-creative man’s atomic arts: fought
inner tendency, forgotten lusts, and lone
dreams. Poetry encodes the me
you’ve never known, or seen.

For: guest-blog-what-is-poetry-by-the-ranting-papizilla

“my 10 year plan”

Life will give birth.
Thirsty and grateful
I await my twist of fate,
my first taste
of earth-based
living, Rumpelstiltskin,
been asleep since
I don’t


FB poem


Of will, Independently, unconscious
messages are typed and sent to me.
Smooth! Your quill bathes me in Indian ink,
and we love black and white, born frein-amies.

these words are pure ascii energy, I think.
Letters quiver with many frequencies, I believe.
These characters are breathing air in, to me:
exhaling synchronicity—a richly textured symphony.


unpublished poem. (: (not anymore..)


Days are labeled wonderful
by sun ray’s fabled warming.

Seas are made by tidal dreams
we all sail, despite warnings.


From poem duet with Shruti



♫ hope u enjoyed! Jim  –

-• ö.tH(ink)Mÿstiç •-



14 thoughts on “Running ̊Son – Poems collection pt. 8

  1. FlutePlayer says:

    Tolling for thee.
    Real conqueror.
    Shiny tone.
    Seeing through.
    External built-in.
    Roll on Ramadan, roll out carpets, roll up words.
    Drinking life to the lees.
    Sophisticated communication.
    Rigid versus soft.
    Ordering wordy pearls in a necklace.
    Adaptable. Flexible.

  2. Love your 10 year plan

  3. Your vocabulary is amazing! ASCII wonderful use of this word. I do think you are a brilliant writer. Do you write professionally? You should!

    • Hoping to Michelle.
      I HATE the end of this. I better find that killer instinct tho, if I want a fighting chance to make a career (:

      • I know what you mean I work in publishing that is why I asked you. The company I work for hires marketing, editors, and various other types of writers. Of course they are industry related to Oil & Gas. That is what I do. I am an editorial art director for Oil & Gas Journal. It rather boring work but at least I get to design and edit and sometimes if they let me I write. It is a cut throat business for sure and there are days I ask myself why did I do this? It wasn’t what I thought it would be but I’ve invested 25 years of my life building my career! Check out our site at We are the 6th largest publishing company, but privately owned. We magazines, books, maps, if you are interested check it out. if you need help if there is any way I can help you let me know.

  4. Ar Vhee says:

    ❤ 🙂

  5. Devan says:

    “Her brain was beautiful, like the word beautiful, in cursive” – I love the way you write! 🙂

♫ Talk to Jim...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

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.

  • 230,786 souls hit the RFB

Click to Follow the RFB!

Join 1,026 other followers

Recent Posts…

Some RFB Followers…

Flag Counter
DoubleU = W



Killing time just got a lot funnier !

UP!::urban po'E.Tree(s)

by po'E.T. and the colors of pi

The shadows of a dream

Words walking the tightrope from functionality to versification.

Petals Unfolding ... Finding ME

The Story of LIFE ... My Way

A 7 letter word.

I am my Name.


A topnotch site


thoughts from my mind to yours

A Mirror Obscura,

Poetry, musings and sightings from where the country changes


Poetic Landscapes Of The Spirit


Ein schöner Tag - wenn er zu Ende geht, ist nichts mehr, wie es war...


Im here to expose true talent

phillymanjim's Blog

Poetry, Musings, Photographs

Never Quite Broken

What you did not build up, you cannot tear down.

Blog It Or Lose It

Paloma's Pen

Eli Glasman

Site of author Eli Glasman

The Year(s) of Living Non-Judgmentally

Here and now, with all of it.

Tania Marie's Blog

Creating Life as a Work of Art

Nomadic & transient tales from a boutique photographer, writer and multimedia creative.


Simple Living


A place for all that inspires me, especially to write.

leather green gargoyle

what I hear, what I read, what I write

Gray Poet

Just a place to express my poems.

HA's Place

musings of a self-proclaimed weirdo


The greatest site in all the land!

Mr.Sahrul Santri


Notes on a Spanish Valley

Award-winning blog - Living in rural Andalucia

Wendy L. Macdonald

My faith is not shallow because I've been rescued from the deep.


Women's Issues, Peace, Creativity & Spirituality


My muse's quiet amusement

The Bully Pulpit

(n): An office or position that provides its occupant with an outstanding opportunity to speak out on any issue.

Poemotherapi Shoppe

"Oh How Art Thou Love Of Poetry"



I didn't have my glasses on....

A trip through life with fingers crossed and eternal optimism.

∙ tenderheartmusings ∙

we were born naked onto the page of existence; with nothing but the pen of our soul to write ourselves into eternal ecstasy ~ DreamingBear Baraka Kanaan

Traces of the Soul

Whispering insights of this, that, then and there

"we'll never be royals."

Small artists with big potential and lots of cliché.

a3maal اعمال


Writngs of a saved woman




A Long Distance Relationship Blog. Join the FB Page:

%d bloggers like this: