Richard Lawrence Harrington

Richard L Harrington



Nested Cynosure


I've worshipped this one,
a likeness of none,
for hours, or years, or never.
We've whispered all night,
on to this morning's light,
while moments became forever.

Down the Road


We're ten years down the road
at the head of a fork
pronged far into what was

Now we've converged again
on this set point in time
conceived so long ago

We chose the well-known route
sealing ceaseless futures
as we betrayed our past

What was sacred back then
is still as precious now
but not for us alone

We've been forced to be weak
with these old friends' hellos
and those heartbreak goodbyes

The world is different now
both less than expected
and somehow still much more

So we've brought ourselves here
with patch-covered tires
and our well-traveled hearts

And as the road carries on
I'm glad it passed your way
those many years ago

It's Getting Late, It's Time to Come Home


When our names are called out before dark,
I will never forget you;
you’ll be long-borne in my growing heart,
still there when names have fled.

When you became my sacred someone,
we said it was forever;
and the years which seemed much longer then,
feel so much shorter now.

When those first wild nights have long gone by,
we both will share some sorrow;
but the mistakes that nearly lost us,
will safely guide us home.

When the last light of your street blinks on,
we know it’s time to go;
don’t be worried by the setting sun,
the end is lovely too.

When you and I are wrapped warm in bed
or laid down to rest by time;
it’s getting late, it’s time to come home,
I’ll walk you all the way.

Unto Us


We reach further,
closer than ever we have before;
into our hearts,
where answers lay pure and exposed.

We press inward,
toward what simple truths still remain;
buried in us,
deep beneath what others create.

We form ourselves,
better in judgement than in practice;
likened to you,
who never we have left unchanged.

Is This You?


Together, we have eagerly wasted time,
burned our little flames brighter,
and outlasted the night.

Is this you,
who falls into my ribcage,
whose fingers grasp my heart?

Innocence, we have so fondly tasted here,
dies beside these woven feet,
and sleeps without a grave.

Is this you,
who makes a full bed empty,
whose warmth keeps it half-full?

Holding on, we take those strengths we are given,
bracing weathered foundations,
and a leaky tin-roof.

Is this you,
who walks onward to the end,
whose journey met my own?

Onward To Our Night


The still motion of life yields ever onward to our fertile lights;
each taken to burn unique,
each committed to the same wind’s dance.

We race with feigned certainty to ends of roads and sudden faults of love;
we, under blankets afire,
we, awaiting that ancient awe.

Those strong march away fearing the beauty of disappointment;
long lost to old memories,
long callused to our bitter truths.

All our loved ones pass with the city lights below our hearts;
in the thin streets of our minds,
in flames we beg quietly to forget.

How perfect and hopeful we've been in all our fleeting deeds;
to outlast our faithfulness,
to have walked onward to our night.

Dragging the Anchor


You're the passenger who left me
when I forsook the shore;
in love out at sea,
with dreams of nothing more.

I thought these sails would save you
from an old lonely storm,
but can you rescue
what's been so safe and warm?

Well I'm sorry I shipped out fast
leaving what I adored;
truths tied to the mast,
of my love still anchored.

Now we're over those shipwrecked tears,
and never have I told
how I kept for years
your lonely storms of old.

What Have We Been? (Lacuna)


By the hand of night
its ring a kind gesture
Let me alone
Let me remember
How you held all my fears
in your pain and your words
Small hints of the heavens
down here in your arms

The sins we own
The deeds we forget
The dreams that left us
quietly as we slept

Now pale as the moon
no blushing lullaby
Let me hold on
Let me my goodnight
We all drift apart slow
to the edge of the sky
Coldly pressing for more
but no more we are given

Now the hands of the light
come to take me away
from my cold metal world
the warm bed where you lay
but I'll fight for more time
just to know you're still here
just let me alone
just let me one more day

The sins we own
The deeds we forget
The dreams that left us
quietly as we slept

Morning comes bitter
as I wake here alone
Let me go back
Let me see you home
Safe in all we have been
and all we'd have become
Still innocent children
to the years ahead

Our Home (Lacuna)


A home forged from our years
and this bad liar's face,
in the care of your love;
for your hopes in this place.

I stepped on their ashes
disregarded their graves,
and I kissed you and fled;
now I see what remains.

A river of their soot
'round this runaway's home,
where I burned down the bridge
from the ending they chose.

They drowned in their beliefs
in the filth of their fires,
and they could have been saved;
if I'd stayed for a while.

Now every light is gone
from where you shared your heart;
mere ghosts of obsession,
now forever apart.

Oh please, please forgive me!
I left your world for dead;
and faithfully they marched,
to their believer's end.

I'm nothing more than me,
without another soul;
just this bad liar's face,
and empty chairs at home.

These are the Answers


When you freeze on the rooftop,
see a billion years gone by,
these answers hold no meaning,
but you hold them 'til you die.

You are only as alone
as a child still unborn;
so desperately longed for,
while your life is yet unworn.

You'll know pain in friends' faces
who have also hurt with you;
torn open hearts, thought unloved,
will mend — and break — anew.

Faith and your heathenism
are two practical choices,
yet already you have seen
how small deeds have great voices.

You will love — oh how you'll love
— and your reasons will vary;
like excuses for living,
or breaking up unfairly.

In time you'll choose so wisely,
like an actor's leading role;
sharing stories you borrowed
as you stumbled down a hole.

Remembering to ask why
will drift from your attention;
seemingly less important,
than the last of all questions.

You will love the ones you kill.
You will kill the ones you hate.
These are the answers we've found,
and forever find too late.

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