John Allen Richter

Gold Star - 7,086 Points [John Allen Richter] (1959 / Richmond, In)

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Third person narratives are somewhat pretentious, I think, at least for we poets who are still living. If I would start this by claiming " John Allen Richter" was this or did that or the other - then I would feel a little silly. As Abraham Lincoln once exclaimed after viewing a photo of himself - 'So here is the creature itself! ' And so too, here am I before you - no mystique, no ... more »

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  • ''Time makes a day like a year when you're young - and a year like a day when you're old. I'm not sure which is better - diaper-rash-wise...''
    John Allen Richter
  • It's no wonder why God made the heart a muscle. It takes a lot of strength to love sometimes. Like when your teenage son comes home with a rainbow Mohawk haircut and complains that you just don't ge...
    John Allen Richter
  • Love is something that happens after the pitter-patter, after our feet come back to the ground. Love is like eating dessert first, and then working through the gristle later. Love is the gristle. T...
    John Allen Richter
  • ...and then God made woman. I'm OK with that. In fact, if I didn't have one I would probably write my own post-it notes to constantly remind myself how stupid and useless I am. My only regret is th...
    John Allen Richter
  • True poetry is rarely purposely done, It's really more like a fundamental part of who the poet is. It's like sleeping or eating. When your passion erupts it just is, and you write it down just as w...
    John Allen Richter
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Best Poem of John Allen Richter

Moonlight Ride

The brown tipped grass peeked through the snow -
With stems quite cold and forlorn.
The north gale came and so winds did blow
and nodded their heads in form.

As for I, a moonlit ride -
on my horse, steady and slow.
With her cold and shivering skin below -
I said 'Not much further to go.'

She low'r'd her head, and back again,
to ring her bridle bell.
As if to say 'Why dear friend,
did you put us in winter's hell? '

'Well, ol' nag, it's like this, you see…
for forty nights I've been alone.
And down the creekbed lives Miss Weatherby,

Read the full of Moonlight Ride Updates

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