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 The AnchoriteMember |
Last Activity: 11-15-2009 03:17 AM
About Me
- About The Anchorite
- Biography
- http://www.myspace.com/erictheanchorite
- Location
- Ireland
- Interests
- Poetry, hiking, travel, stock market, cycles of time
- Occupation
- Author/Poet
- Sex
- Male
- Marital/Relationship status
- Not answered
- Favorite Books
- The King, Father & Mother and Oasis of Love
- Any additonal information
- http://stores.lulu.com/booksbyericrhodes
-
Status updates
- Only from the heart Can you touch the sky. - 03-17-2009 03:34 PM
- “Only from the heart Can you touch the sky.” - 03-17-2009 03:33 PM
Contact Info
- Home Page
- http://stores.lulu.com/booksbyericrhodes
Blog
View The Anchorite's BlogRecent Entries
Latest Blog Entry
Posted in
Uncategorized
I stand alone
The door has closed,
shutting me out from what I had known
so intimately;
the warmth of the fire, smell of musty old books
and the secure comfort of those time worn
imperfect walls that had been my home.
I stand alone, naked,
facing down the cold November wind
which like an angry spectator tosses branches
and leaves my way with contempt.
Before me this cobbled alley narrows like the eye of a needle ...
The door has closed,
shutting me out from what I had known
so intimately;
the warmth of the fire, smell of musty old books
and the secure comfort of those time worn
imperfect walls that had been my home.
I stand alone, naked,
facing down the cold November wind
which like an angry spectator tosses branches
and leaves my way with contempt.
Before me this cobbled alley narrows like the eye of a needle ...
Posted in
Uncategorized
Night
Night comes in with a shy reluctance
and is allowed to stay in this village,
but only for so long.
Before night can get comfortable
it's swept, into manageable piles,
by the elegant lamps edging the
knotted streets.
Bricks are neatly stacked
by anxious workmen,
nets are stowed on fishing boats
and the sun is hoisted to the mountain top.
Lonely night is quickly sent home,
the village too impatient
...
Night comes in with a shy reluctance
and is allowed to stay in this village,
but only for so long.
Before night can get comfortable
it's swept, into manageable piles,
by the elegant lamps edging the
knotted streets.
Bricks are neatly stacked
by anxious workmen,
nets are stowed on fishing boats
and the sun is hoisted to the mountain top.
Lonely night is quickly sent home,
the village too impatient
...
Posted in
Uncategorized
September
I watch the rain as it sways
in gusts,
like the curtains on the window.
Damp is everywhere,
it's September
and autumn is trying to get in.
The occasional walker scurries past,
bundled green and yellow head to toe,
a sheepdog darting to and fro.
Sweet smoke trails from the chimney,
making this old cottage look like a locomotive
steaming along at a good clip.
I'm not getting anywhere,
sitting here...
I watch the rain as it sways
in gusts,
like the curtains on the window.
Damp is everywhere,
it's September
and autumn is trying to get in.
The occasional walker scurries past,
bundled green and yellow head to toe,
a sheepdog darting to and fro.
Sweet smoke trails from the chimney,
making this old cottage look like a locomotive
steaming along at a good clip.
I'm not getting anywhere,
sitting here...
Posted in
Uncategorized
A Wave
I am a wave,
rising high above the source.
windswept, I curl around you,
gently at first until the weight
of myself implodes upon you.
embracing me, you are pure
phosphorescence within my foam.
conjoined we surge onward.
I hold you aloft,
carefree,
as you rise feeling the wind in your hair.
- Eric Rhodes
I am a wave,
rising high above the source.
windswept, I curl around you,
gently at first until the weight
of myself implodes upon you.
embracing me, you are pure
phosphorescence within my foam.
conjoined we surge onward.
I hold you aloft,
carefree,
as you rise feeling the wind in your hair.
- Eric Rhodes
Posted in
Uncategorized
Lovers in Lake
I swim,
in the light of the moon glade,
prying back the rusted shutters
of the night.
The water is deep
and I too exhausted to return
safely ashore.
I swim,
certain you beckoned me,
my lady of the lake,
into the shimmering reflection
of my faith.
You are elusive,
yet closer than I
and embrace me
like lovers,
as the water slowly drains
from my back
into...
I swim,
in the light of the moon glade,
prying back the rusted shutters
of the night.
The water is deep
and I too exhausted to return
safely ashore.
I swim,
certain you beckoned me,
my lady of the lake,
into the shimmering reflection
of my faith.
You are elusive,
yet closer than I
and embrace me
like lovers,
as the water slowly drains
from my back
into...
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