Photo by Gaelle Marcel on Unsplash

I find home within the sound of your heartbeats
as we learn to cuddle beneath every sun
still I don’t know where my voice fits

Afternoon tides refuse to cradle unspoken wits
when bandaged happiness comes undone
I find home within the rhythm of your heartbeats

Voluminous stores decorate scarce streets
paying for old promises has already begun
still I don’t know where my voice fits

Laughter invades the echoes of my defeats
their clandestine fear entices me to run
I find home within the music of your heartbeats

Ask me again to surrender to the beauty of deceits
the most enduring lessons come from those who never won
still I don’t know where my voice fits

Murmurous nights conquer bohemian misfits
liquor drowns ambitions one by one
home grows within the silence of your heartbeats
still I don’t know where my voice fits

Photo by Joanna Kosinska on Unsplash

I am elsewhere beyond photos we spared
hidden within mumbles triggering unrest
landscapes of me I never shared
pieces of you I never guessed

Dulled senses dancing to a broken jukebox
sell hope to freeze one single point in time
reach out and bend the quiet ticking of clocks
huddling for warmth inside a soothing rhyme

The smell of old clothes fills empty drawers
like rationed love for soldiers far from home
courted before by wealthy amateurs
now left to fight on their own

Beyond the melting gaze of irreverence
in waves of pandemic sparks of absence

Photo by Stefano Valtorta on Unsplash

Let go if not to hold me endlessly
if your thirst has dried because you’re lonely
leave desire drowning in the pouring rain
forget my mouth if other lips explain
how drizzle carries ripples to your sea

Let go unless your bed wants all of me
if murmurs are ready to discover fringes of insane
for mornings under sheets is where you dream to be
let go if not to hold me endlessly

Or let my scent invade your poetry
spend the night if my body sweetens your bedtime tea
when the warmth I bring is welcome to remain
in muted gestures small enough to reign
otherwise, please set me free
let go if not to hold me endlessly

Photo by tabitha turner on Unsplash

It is not only fair to fail
failure is primordial
failure is not an option
it is a requirement

Beware of poisonous ink
in romantic tales sold by greedy storytellers
the constant yearning for happy endings
at their curtain call, what is left to learn?

Life stands incomplete
without the hungry breath of defeats

Use all skins of your humanness
weave them into the softest shoes
so they may strengthen each step
through life’s unforgiving groove

Love celebrates mishaps and uncertainty
love awaits at the start of every gesture
inside everything
embracing everywhere

Free minds are blind to circular lines
they know limits only by creating their own

Photo by Joanna Nix-Walkup on Unsplash

Beyond dusk where haunting voices remain
fleeting lovers wander fleeing compromise
chasing mermaids who dwell in the rain

The moon encourages desires it cannot sustain
with starry skies laid out to mesmerize
beyond dusk where haunting voices remain

Lust burns without temporal constraint
it crinkles beneath the tongue to hypnotize
chasing mermaids who dwell in the rain

Not all sunsets deserve exuberant acclaim
some herald the scent of demise
beyond dusk where haunting voices remain

Defeated sirens gather to exclaim
drowning should not come as a surprise
chasing mermaids who dwell in the rain

All drifters bring the same flickering flame
they come to breathe hope into the sunrise
clandestine mornings where haunting voices remain
chasing mermaids who dwell in the rain

Photo by Julia Weihe on Unsplash

I followed blindly once for I believed
until I realized there was no one to follow
nowhere to go, nothing to be achieved
lights shining on black tar grew hollow
darkness always demanding to be pleased
pretending to be something else so shallow
some fictional character who cannot help
for character, you have to build yourself

I envied the vastness of the seven seas with monstrous beauty, reckless and light where malice grows in small degrees through the withering hours of starless nights allowing rivers to run against enemy breeze to the bitter end of measly fights crowds gather for…

Used with permission from publisher © Six Herons

Nuno Ricardo

A poet who codes or a coder with odes. Collects poems in books @

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