Tag: river

Lingua Franca 

Spoken over grilled onions,

Lingua Franca 

By Tyler Lucas Mobley 

Falling over backwards 

some truth yet said, mirage lips 

covet a single syllable. 

Strides with four legged

majesty to break the spell, shatter 

stone with a prying kiss.  

Treasured lips form pirate 

smile crescent reflecting ocean

stubborn windward tales.

Sense of what is carried 

branches by day swans by night

shouted whisper emanates.  

Speak mountains of river

coherent flow unbeknownst guest 

as Old Faithful chamber. 

Impressions dance on our

humming minds, rhythms match

between pressing records. 

Changing Lessons & In From Eternity 

On your toes lads she’s just around the corner. Until we meet again.

Changing Lessons & In From Eternity

By Tyler Lucas Mobley 

To the river for what its worth

for the day’s final song, trees

when our feet touch the earth. 

Galactic Jack, no glitter bomb, 

deducing lumps of sand & stone. 

Pleased with our company, Karma

doesn’t come when she’s called.

A wrong turn made right when

it led me to you tonight. 

Did I miss your vine swing entrance? 

Or was it an amusement slide from 

heaven that brought you through the

doors. Radiating fertility, the room

heighten to your frequency listens to

your silent symphony. In the glow of 

an volcanic eruption, a rare sight, 

expression of earth force. A mover 

of mountains if you were to put them 

all together. Having just come from 

your river I stumble upon the source. 

Monster’s Wading Room

Monster’s Wading Room

By Tyler Lucas Mobley  

No need to follow my path, 

don’t know how to live with

instigating death. 

A brown torrent five meters across

appeared mild as tea and cake.

Being eaten or becoming prey,

not fond of finding oneself on

the menu. 

Timeless terminators, in need of

minesweepers for submarine feet. 

There on the beach, sandals in a fist,     

we’ve all heard of Russian roulette 

we welcomed the unknown. 

The phenomenologist SAT, 

a religious act of faith, a 

declaration to life and its 

persistence. 

Breathing axioms, in up to our 

chests, a steady forward pace.

A year later a surfer at the

same crossing caught a bite in

the leg, he didn’t make it out.

A conscious choice, to allow 

the world to unfold as it will,

to put your life in the hands of

something beyond yourself.

“To dare is to lose one’s footing 

momentarily. Not to dare is 

to lose oneself.”

– Søren Kierkegaard