Monthly Archives: July 2013

I Remember Your Brown Eyes

Hello and thanks for dropping by…….  Was in the mood for a song with this but unfortunately my vocal cords are never as enthusiastic as I am!  The audio was added to give you, the reader, an idea of what was bouncing around in my head when I wrote this…..  Please accept my apology in advance for the wailing you will hear by pushing the audio button below!

I Remember Your Brown Eyes

Forgotten smiles,
From forgotten miles –
a time ago –
our young hearts wild.

It’s never here,
that precious year.
You held my hand
all the while…

I flew away
on the darkest day
before I’d say
I’ll love you always…
Girl, I’ll love you always….

So many say
Love’s here to stay
But it’s my prediction
that love’s just fiction
until it walks away…..

Darlin I love you…..
And I always will….

I remember
your brown eyes girl…


To be offered up to the great poets at “Open Link Night” on Tuesday, July 16th………  Please join us some Tuesday…

© 2013 John Allen Richter


Time, in her honored glory –
finds her seat beside mine.
Sleepless I relive this story
as the witching moon does shine.

Time has found her majestic place
‘oer eons of man’s pathetic race.
For kings and paupers she felled her grace
yet now she honors my clown painted face.

And I, a fool, a masquerade,
just a jester skipping this promenade –
All wondering wonders of worldly wise
While I – each day – paint disguise
before dancing through life’s colonnade.

Time knows not, nor have I yet found
any reason to be certain;
Why time blesses my way round
before drawing her final curtain.

Her piercing eyes peer through the cake –
beyond this blusher smile.
She sees the true fear of shimmering quake
as loneliness endures my while.

And I ask, “Oh time, tell me true…
Am I but an overt oddity?
Is my open heart of love so blue –
just an uninvited commodity?”

“Have other men walked alone?
Have you also held their hand?
That among this sea of sullen souls
each man’s path is of barren land?”

Please answer Time, lay your truth upon table.
please show yourself to me.
Lest others find your spirit fable –
And all the world shall see!

Hark, the devil’s hour comes
and there is but silence in my den.
Time fails to beat her drums
And I doubt her existence again.

And where are we – if time be eternity?
Devil’s hour could neither come nor go.
Yet here it is in astounding affinity –
As all this hellish world does know….

And within find darkest truth, my friends,
Time does not indeed exist.
She is just a chain of past events
of men who devils kissed.

And from this lair, I shall declare,
until my dying day;
From painted smiles I shall forswear –
my love will ever stay –





True Nature of Life

Another flailing eve,
passing seasons grieve
as life’s wonders bleed –
into you – into I…..

And what colors are these bloods?
As we watch them leech the soil
to erode our greatest toil –
Do we care?

Does it matter to you that I flail in their waves?
That these nasty bloods should drown me, snuff me?
That I am just another soul who has come and gone before,
That my existence is nothing.

We swallow the bloods because we must –
digest them before they overcome us.
We taste their bile and yet survive,
Because your own drowning doesn’t lessen my need to be.

There are those who bleed,
and those who need…… love.
But it isn’t here.
There’s nothing but blood.

© 2013 John Richter


A Field in New Hope

Often life’s trails take us on paths that are haphazard and we pass through places that are event-less – never to be remembered.   Other times we are taken to places that our hearts remember forever.  As a young man I relocated to a town called New Hope in Arkansas and as every summer in my life progresses it seems as my mind increasingly drifts towards those memories of her.  The following piece of prose was written with one of those memories in mind.   It is dedicated to all those from New Hope that I love and who have loved me….


As a young man I was foolish and had not yet engaged a rudder upon my life. But I knew that if there were any hope to be had then only New Hope had my heart, for within her once laid the boundaries of all things near and dearest to my desires and then only she held the key to my entire world.  But she never knew that.


The Arkansas pine flowed over me, its sweet smell coursed through my small self like the moonlight passes through the night.  The unkempt field before me – which was lit only by the wee stars above -laid motionless as I looked upon her simple yet great majesty.  It gave cause for my mind to stumble for she had been here thousands of years before I and here she shall endure long after I will not.


Her simplicity is in the notion that I can tread upon her, or put seed within her to bring up life – and bring prosperity within my own lifetime. Or perhaps even build a grand structure upon her that many from far away might come to gaze upon and awe in the things that we – as man – can achieve.


..but her majesty stands much taller than that.  For in a thousand years nature shall reclaim her and bring her back into her simplest form and our lives will be long forgotten.  If God gave her feelings then our entire lives upon her would have been nothing more than an itch to her. 

And now as a much older man looking back on that cool early summer eve – as I once crouched behind that old barbed-wire fence brush gazing upon that field – cupping my lit cigarette as to hide myself from fate, I know that it was just a young man’s folly:  for fate will always find you.  And as I lay now old and withered upon a different home on a different land I’ve come to realize that it is my own heart that shall lay barren and unkempt forever as her simple beauty thrives on.  But I will always endear that moment -that beautiful starlit night- that we once shared as fate called my name.

© 2013 John Richter