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Donald RyburnDonald Ryburn-----vitas Donald Ryburn is the editor of 4*9*1-----Imagination
(www.fournineone.com). He is a neo-naïve visionary artist/photographer. He is
co-author (with Aubrey) of the book Poetry Pathology. His poetry and photography
have appeared in hundreds of print journals, anthologies, and on-line zines,
including Black Moon, 4*9*1, Poetry Motel,
Pacific Coast Journal, Bitter Oleander, Onionhead, Art/Mag, Möbius (print,) Poetry Superhighway,
Poetry Tonight, Room Without
Walls, India Journal, Archeflamboeth, Entropic, Grassroots Poetry,
Electric Acorn, Wired Art For Wired Hearts, Bluff Magazine, /noserialmice,
Some Words, Jitter-bug's Nest, Poetry Down-Under, The Poetry Kit, Poetry Life & Times (interview),
Creative Voice, Vistula, The Miserere Review, Unlikely Stories, Lynx Poetry -Bath, England,
Marmsweb, Poetry! Yes! Now!, 7th-Circle, (on-line).
Her blood became white tears. Two mouths, the hands of astonishment. She was fire where there was none. She was children at play With the dolls of death. The blue darkness of birds Who could not choose their color. Her voice, the rope of democracy. Black, lighted hills sang the sadness of leopards. Metal hinges collided with absence. Life became an unended moment, The moment she waved From the steps of a bus, gone east. Above this land, A large bird cried. Donald Ryburn Melissa Second version Blonde hair in mechanical swing Rosaries and wine Once magic eyes now dull Mothers' love a dark shape From unknown crushed desire Simple white garments Fallen ribbons and lace White poppies, empathy and a gray world Distorted through stained glass Winter, another and another Gulf tides, imaged language A curl of gold, tiny coffin Putrid oranges, tangerines Snow geese disgust with mathematics Only bones. Winter, another and another Donald Ryburn Mara Useless human tears hidden In untouchable stones, In fires loosened From shadows of pumas. She said, "There is an infinite hunger on the earth." While she pointed with icy finger At daisies, at gloved hands During the sleep of September. Her hands had once cultivated golden flowers, Had been the comrades of cormorants. Now they visit other worlds, Grow diamonds in cloudless skies, Gracefully lead us away From the seeds of death.
Donald Ryburn Rhonda/:uk This place speaks only absence. Candles cannot ring With their temporary shadows The empty bells of a Tower. These shadows do not hunger For your dark amber eyes. The shadow's blackened tongues Could only betray you. Only this huddled framework Of stolen bones knows you. Knows your distant voice That now as if a fog Settles into an endless night.
Donald Ryburn
Rhonda:/uk/abyss So we have encountered The remains of horizons. What was unknown became stone, Would not yield to light From foreign suns. The death of black-tongued, Blinded words, Was glorious. "Darling," you spoke, At the dark edges of an abyss, Remarking at their beauty. You said, "Do not be afraid." "Come, join hands In this quickened Flight of Destiny."
Donald Ryburn
Rhonda:/uk/beginnings "thou mettest with things dying;
Dyings:
And I convinced you
That slaying dead goats,
Beginnings: Mount Meru exposed her tender thighs
Things born anew: Where I belong,
Donald Ryburn
Rhonda:/uk/numbers My love--
This unknown fire that covers us Dispersed shadows from your beauty. Became twin dolphins of desire In an endless black ocean. We have walked the same wet shorelines. Been devoured by the same young lizards. Our numbers became one number. Confused mortals attempted the speech Of an almost absent God. But could not destroy the strange. Could not suspend the sacred.
Donald Ryburn
Rhonda:/uk/shared secrets (the sun's melody, pale rays of light, musical, melancholy, beautiful....) You are as mother-of-pearl, First silver, grey and gold, Suddenly sweet pale blue. You quietly took my tears to your fingertips, Placed them into the corners Of your dark amber eyes. You said our tears came from the same ocean. A rising moon searched for us. Sent her melancholy mermaids To our separate shores, Where the scorpion night Became jealous of the mastery Of love's promised miracle, Of her final mysteries revealed. Tonight we will gamble At guessing the secrets we hold. Tonight we shall sing mantras To a new moon passing the face of Neptune There we shall begin a revolution Beyond all
time.
Donald Ryburn
Rhonda:/uk/wounds We carry twin wounds Across a single heart. The same white light Shields us as pure stones In these villages of absence. This night will end. Your voice will emerge From sickening fog. Our bodies will arch Rapid, blinded and whole. This night will become jealous Of the white road of sleep we share. A sleep where nothing can ever end.
Donald Ryburn
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