About The Blog

Arthor Journer is my pen name.
"Arthor" comprises "art" + "Author" while "Journer" defines the journey that I was on and continue to travel.
In this blog is the emotional byproduct of this journey.

"Rites of Art" is the title because it is my "writes" of passage.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Pulse

Far beyond the rising mist,

Dance the lips they once kissed,

To tunes my heart never heard,

From the beats stronger than any word.

Hidden deep in the briers,

Over the fence of barbed wire,

Clap the hands that once caressed,

Such a melody that my feet never were blessed.

In the whisper of the summer wind,

Stands the sound my fingers will not touch again,

Fly and float with each breath,

But only I will fall to my death.

Far beyond the realm of dreams,

Her eyes glisten and gleam.

Only darkness surrounds my vision,

Never to see them again a scarce decision.

Time and distance form an impassable chasm,

That heart and mind cannot fathom.

Thoughts of yesteryear vanish in the breeze,

Now only glimpses of faint memories.

2 comments:

Byron D said...

"In the whisper of the summer wind
stands the sound my fingers will never touch again" Thats great prose. I don't know if this piece is about her but do you ever hear from Roseanne? (your ex wife)

Byron D said...

Love the Art on "Pulse" also. The Lady is as intense as she is beautiful.