Pressure, no pleasure, pain
Combustible, explosive
Defining my name
–
Merging, converging, hurt
Waking to heartache
Demeanour, so curt
–
Lessons, compressions, harm
Just want to feel normal
Make life my balm
–
Sleeping, living, life
Restrictive, this illness
Demeaning, this strife
Thank you for reading
Richard
We two are indivisible, seamless, the same. Two hearts. Two minds. One reason for being. At least, this is what I tell myself each day, as I pray to your form on this polished glass divide. Here, where the rain cannot touch us, and the stars never shine, we exist. In this in-between, we share our moments and span such time as can be recounted. Time! Oh, Time, how you betray us.
We two writhe when apart. We list like hamstrung battleships. There is no noticeable us then, though we still move together, breathe together, live in the same sacred space. Time reaches for us, but its intangible fingers can no more grasp our thoughts than we can. We are the dreamers, Time, not you. More, soon we shall wake and see each other, whilst you shall see only the past. Take that, Time! Yes, take that.
Indivisible, or so I claim. The proof of the pudding is in the eating, but we both bake. Fingers will point and tongues will wag. This is our doom. But we shall close our eyes and ears to the world. We shall brush aside the glass. Then there will be no dream, and time shall not matter. You will be there. So will I.
Thank you for reading
Richard
Concrete breaths mark the next phase,
stone upon stone laid roughly in the earth.
—
Pathways to the stars run only through water,
where twinkling ripples melt repeatedly.
—
Reality comes in a steadfast sunrise;
gold absorbs but never reflects.
—
Such metal circles require greased extractions,
but the only pig fat comes from me.
—
Dead now, this aqualung heart submerged
in deepest darkness, bottom of the trench.
—
Tomorrow’s just another day, they say,
but who they are remains moot.
Thank you for reading
Richard
Massive thanks to editor, Joelcy Kay, at the fantastic Edge of Humanity Magazine for publishing my latest flash fiction, The Cold Burn.
I hope you’re able to take a look and spend a while perusing some of the other wonderful work the magazine has on display.
Thank you for reading
Richard
A big thank you to editor Manuela Timofte for publishing my latest poem, The Darkling Door.
I hope you enjoy the piece and have a few minutes to read some of the other wonderful work available on the site.
Here: The Darkling Door
Thank you for reading
Richard
If you enjoyed this, please consider keeping this fellow in moccasins with a small tip. Thank you again.
Richard
A big thank you to editor, Manuela Timofte, for publishing my latest short prose, Separated at Birth. Please take a look at the other wonderful poetry and prose on the site. Gobblers by Masticadores never disappoints. Here
Enjoy
Richard – https://ko-fi.com/richardmankers
Twins set apart by time and tide, yet close enough to touch. This is our meeting as if from thin air. This is the face on a screen. Here, we linger, the two of us, interacting with a world that neither understands us nor wishes to. We say the right things, act as others, but remain remote. As hermits in a world made social, where everyone and everything is a supposed friend, we become just this.
We feel each other. Our words mean more when felt, not just spoken to appease. Those with poor memories see through such things, for lies are abhorrent to the cerebrally challenged, whereas truths are undoubtedly solid. Even when the pain strikes us both, we remain true to this. When it grows worse, we never falter. When one hurts, so does the other. If one resists weeping, the other blinks back the tears. As if affixed by a very long string, one tug is felt no matter the distance. Two tugs makes the other one topple; I don’t like to see her fall.
This is us, just eyes in a glass face, and voices powered by electronics. It ought not to work, but it does. It ought not to mean so much, but it couldn’t mean more. Twins, some might call us, separated at birth. She touches the screen and I touch it back. I know the pain in her head is as bad as mine, but a pain shared is a pain halved, mother says. Apparently, hers says the same.
If you enjoyed this piece, please consider a small donation
to help further my writing life.
Thank you for reading
Richard
https://ko-fi.com/richardmankers
Something a little bit different to start the New Year off.
It’s with great pleasure and thanks that this latest poem is coauthored with the fabulous Gina Maria Manchego.
Read here: Diamond and Gold
Thanks to editor Manuela Timofte as always for publishing our work.
Thank you for reading
Richard.
Whiskey eyes smoulder
From beneath a raven fringe
Intoxicating
Never did like the headaches
Which is why I quit drinking
Thank you for reading
Richard
A big thank you to the wonderful Manuela Timofte, editor at Gobblers & Masticadores, for publishing my latest micro-fiction, Solitary Thoughts. I hope you all enjoy the read.
Please take a few minutes to check out the other superb works on offer.
Thank you for reading
Richard
Richard M. Ankers
A little background Talking to someone for several hours a day through the medium of glass is difficult. There’s no two ways about it. Technology has…
When Inspiration Strikes
Richard M. Ankers - Storybook 
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