Inverse Chapbook

The Poetry of Rick Dixon

57 Poems - Last Update: December 28, 2020

This webpage contains a digital chapbook of all my poetic endeavors. A chapbook is a small book or pamphlet, often a collection of poems. This webpage is my digital chapbook. The poems were written over many years, starting in way back in 1995. From time to time I have desired to express through poetry my emotions.

Each poem is also viewable on its own webpage. The menu is located on the right, upper side of this webpage.

Goodnight My Love

The warmth of your body
pulled tight against mine.
My fingers, they trace,
the length of your spine.
My hands glide over
your sensual curves.
Our hearts are on fire,
such passion unnerves.
Intimate moments,
with bodies entwined.
Happy together
our souls are aligned.
The length of your hair
spreads over my chest.
My palm reaches out
and grazes your breast.

I kiss you goodnight
while love takes its rest.

                                  - poem by Rick Dixon


My Emotions Amiss

Along came the devil, with fire red hair.
She pretended to love me, though never did care.
Soft lips led her ruse to a life so surreal.
How I desperately wanted, her love to be real.

Slayer of my heart with those venomous lips.
My blood in her chalice, my soul lost its grip.
Long gone is she now, my emotions amiss.
For no one can better, what she left in her kiss.

                                  - poem by Rick Dixon


The Color of Your Lipstick

In the cold evenings of late year,
I dream of being the night air.
Wrapping myself around you,
Flowing lightly across your red lips.
Taking only the color of your lipstick,
Wet from tongue’s tip,
Upon my own lips.
Your soul warms my heart.
Your presence, my compass,
While fall winds whirl us back together.

                                  - poem by Rick Dixon


The Return: 4 Poems

The poems below are my attempts to return to writing poetry. Much time has passed since my last writings in 2019. My hopes are to move forward with an emphasis on writing sonnets. Until I manage to be writing in iambic pentameter, I have written a few short poems. I have broken the inertia and returned my pen to paper one Thursday evening in September.

What came out of my writing are poems expressing the loss of a relationship. I have experienced loss a number of times in my life so I can easily recall my emotions associated with those losses. I was not feeling a recent loss while writing. Poems about loss may simply be the easiest to write and allowed me to find a point to start writing again.


Insanity Reigns

There's heaviness in my sadness.
Tears puddle much like an overnight rain.
The reality of my losing you,
Has left me quite insane.


Disappearing Ink

My tears became a river,
That flowed unto the sea.
Ink from letters written,
fade eventually away.
Unable to express to you,
all I hoped that I could say.
The love we shared together,
Not enough for you to stay.


Start with Goodbye

We share no more the word, hello.
Just a permanent goodbye.
You said it was your time to go
Though I 'll never know the reason why.


In Plain Site

I am quite aware
that the others do stare
As though they should care
Over our love affair.

                                  - poems by Rick Dixon

25 Hymn Meter Poems

Emily Dickinson portrait   Emily Dickinson wrote 1775 poems that we know of, many of which were written using Hymn Meter. The flow of Hymn Meter poems aligns with the melody of hymns that she knew. Her poems could be sung to music that was popular at that time.

I enjoy the poetry of Dickinson, and also her as a person. She certainly remains one of the greatests poets of all time.

The 15 poems below are my attempts of writing poetry by using Hymn Meter.

Also, I have a webpage on Emily Dickinson which includes some Hymn poetry writing primers.

My Emily Dickinson Webpage


Then Sings My Soul

When seeing you my soul does sing.
Your presence comforts me.
The happiness you always bring,
I wish as much for thee.


Your Presence

The warmth of your presence
Rouses my emotions.
Desire creates its own suspense.
Will our hearts beat as one?


An Invitation

Skin so fair with cinnamon hair,
Please let my heart soar free.
Splendor beyond any compare,
Come on a walk with me.



I saw her yet again today,
That angel in disguise.
My soul, it cried out in dismay
As sorrow met reprise.



A flower blooms in secret place.
I planted it mid-May.
I hope to place it in a vase,
And visit you someday.


Whenever She is Near

Such lovely music is her voice
As words goes dancing around my ears.
Her beauty makes my soul rejoice
Whenever she is near.



Awake tonight my heart delights –
The still invites your grand debut.
Past lonely days I overwrite
As dreams review my love for you.


Kiss Me Hello

I promise I won’t ask too much
Of what I'd love to ask of you.
Your cheek, your lips I’d love to touch
For just a little kiss – or two!



I call your name as though you care.
The deed returned in silent stare.
Such love for you I would confess.
Except that you could care no less.


Future Endeavors

I dream of future times to share.
To hold you close sublime!
Please end my days of solitaire
And let our souls entwine.


To Be With You

I wish to spend the day with you.
To be with you sublime!
Though who am I to so impose
on such an angel’s time?


To Be Near You

My heart does warm upon your sight
Whenever I’m near you.
Too short my time in such delight.
Too soon, we bid adieu.



What choice has the heart in which it pursues
when two souls by their fate become tethered?
Why would the universe lead me to you,
Be it not, for us to be forever together?



You would blush every time
I gaze into your eyes.
If only that you knew
The loving thoughts I have of you.


Quiet Times

When silent is the night,
I dream you're with me here.
I wish to hold you tight
And whisper in your ear.

                                  - poems by Rick Dixon


An Ordinary Day

Not one million dollars did I acquire today.
Sculpt I did not, the Bronze David in clay.
Painted no canvas that cloned a Van Gogh.
Learned very little of what I don’t know.
Blasted no rockets up into space.
No medals awarded for winning a race.
No motorcade to meet me at my door.
Found no solution to feed the world's poor.
Rescued no maidens from untimely death.
Penned not one play to rival Macbeth.
Wrote no sentence worthy of Hemingway.
Many debts I’m still not ready to repay.
Written no scores to echo Mozart.
Across the Serengeti I did not embark.
No bottles christened a ship I set sail.
Nor did I through-hike the Appalachian Trail.
There's no need to remember even my name.
I have achieved very little, no title of fame.

Today I only lived an ordinary day.
Lived it I did in an ordinary way.
Celebrated I did with a handpicked bouquet
of the prettiest of flowers from today’s grand ballet.
I'd change only one thing if ever I could.
We'd walk hand-in-hand if ever you would.

                                  - poem by Rick Dixon


Our Used Record Store

Fictional Poem

Around the corner and
way down the street.
Past that quaint French café,
where we almost did meet.
Turn left in the alley.
Follow its path of concrete.

Arrive at the entrance donning
the tarnished brass horns.
The paint chipped and peeling;
the sign weathered and worn.
Paying heed to those bushes
with their skin piercing thorns.

I enter the store with the music too loud,
working my way through
the compacted crowd.
"Stick to your list" for its
what I have vowed.
An old, vinyl man,
adrift in this digital age.

From across the small store,
your years I can’t gauge.
And our love, I imagine -
works only on stage.
My wallet won’t pay for the wages of sin.
So I walk my way home
as the light becomes dim.

Enter into my house -
kiss the wife on her chin.
The day’s last decision;
is it vodka or gin?

                                  - poem by Rick Dixon


Annapolis Objet d'art

Fictional Poem

You will find an antique shop, atop the old avenue.
Enter in through the door and see its grand view.
Stay for a while and go rummaging through.
There’s something for all, and something for you.

Bridal gowns can be found, some tiaras and a crown.
Various memorabilia, looted from this old, Navy town.
Candlesticks standing, though absent of wax.
Outside on its case, sits an old alto sax.

Unpolished silver with oxidized spots.
Three cups for tea without lid for their pot.
Glassware, and stemware and flatware remain.
Assorted mechanical banks and a Lionel train.

A Venus di Milo, no arms with it came.
Too many old books to be able to name.
Overly ornate electric brass lamps.
Vintage postcards, affixed cancelled stamps.

Marbles & buttons in glass canning jars.
Fabric with patterns like maps from a far.
An iridescent Aurora Borealis brooch.
Scrimshaw on ivory that most likely was poached.

Lots of bric-à-brac and other knick knacks.
Dozens of plates nestled high in their stacks.
Wooden carvings of ducks that never did quack.
Paintings from collapsed walls – nudes hidden in back.

Mirrors that once reflected days from long ago.
Clocks that can no longer tell us its time we should go.
Prince Albert, the man, still stuck in his can.
Dust readjusted from the overhead fans.

On a marble top table a Steuben bowl sits.
Cases of jewelry and rings that might fit.
Lenses that magnified all that’s been seen.
A box of glass doorknobs; a dented Army canteen.

Necklaces from dances that all have gone home.
A dozen forgotten Bell rotary phones.
Bequeathed heirlooms have abandoned their fate.
Many an item is missing its mate.

Wandered past lives their memories entombed.
Hours have gone by, my time’s been consumed.
Having looked all about; my search it is done.
What would I pick as the very best one?

Behind a display case upon an oak chair,
Is poised a timeless beauty with fire red hair.
This living treasure outshines all others there,
An objet d'art this maiden so fair.

                                  - poem by Rick Dixon

Sunrise on the Sea

A star-speckled darkness releases its grip
just minutes before a coral red glow emerges;
pushing itself up above the eastern horizon.
The waves now relaxing as the lower tide advances. Silhouettes appearing more prominent;
the jetty, the tethered boat now visible
Arrays of shells find themselves abandoned,
stranded on the shoreline;
each given up by last night’s sea.
Crabs and crustacean scamper out of gull’s sight.
Aerial cawing serenades the crescendo of waves
that pound endlessly against the weathered shoreline. Yesterday has been washed away.
The warmth of the sun’s fire saturates the soul.
A new day has disembarked at the dock.

                                  - poem by Rick Dixon


The Male Wippoorwill

Upon summer night’s relaxing meander
Songbirds abound, exchange sweet-sounding banter
Alone farther into the woods I’ve decided I’d walk
No one alongside me with which I could talk

As daylight was slipping from sky into ground
It was then that I heard a most recognizable sound
I stopped where I was; I kept perfectly still
For it was the call of a male Whippoorwill

The scene was iconic, the moon climbing above pines
A place in that moment where all nature aligned
All quiet it was albeit the nocturnal calls
As God’ nighttime creatures did scamper and crawl

The whippoorwill continued its incessant call that night
What would he tell us, if only he might
Is he even aware of the earth’s desperate plight
That is seemingly lost on man’s narrow sight

                                  - poem by Rick Dixon


Speaking of Sunsets

Speaking of sunsets,
that summons day’s end
Times from our past,
in my dreams, I extend

When I look back
with such joyful recall
My memories of you,
so fervently enthrall

Speaking of sunsets,
which perpetually enflame
Like the desires in my heart
that equally remain

I would discover new love,
if I knew of a way
Since you departed
on that miserable
dark day

Each morning promises all,
a new outlook on life
Yet my sadness prevails
amongst heartbroken strife

Speaking of sunsets,
they return every day
Unlike you, my true love,
who chose not to stay

                                  - poem by Rick Dixon

Tennessee Fire

A certain chance meeting amongst billions of souls
summoned an allure that began deep in his heart.
The beauty she possessed had him losing control.
Rampant emotions born from their unforeseen start.

The adoration of her that he held would not tire.
A chance of love would it be like none other afore.
When in their closeness their sparks became fire.
Providing them both the other’s love to explore.

                                  - poem by Rick Dixon


Ecclesiastical Healing

Adaptation of Ecclesiastes 3

There is an appointed time for loving someone.
And there is a time for all that comes afterward:

A time to be loved then a time to not be;
A time to plant and a time to uproot what was planted;
A time to tear apart and a time to throw away;
A time to embrace and a time to shun embracing;
A time to mourn and a time to not dance;
A time to keep hurting and a time not to stop;
A time to weep and a time to keep weeping.

A time to hold fast then the time to let it die.
A time to be silent and the time to stay silent.
A time to stop searching and give up as lost;
A time for less pain and the time to be healed.

Now I believe comes my God-given time
for in which I've been eagerly waiting.
My chance for happiness, new life adventures.
A new love to be shared, a love self-sustaining.

                                  - poem by Rick Dixon


Absent Without Leave

For where is my love?
She’s nowhere I see.
Took flight like a dove,
behind she’s left me.

She’s gone from this place,
her heart wrapped in lace.
Her golden red hair,
my life’s in despair.

For where is my love?
Those celestial blue eyes,
or her soft ruby-red lips
that offered me not
one last kiss of goodbye.

No longer is she
where I wish her to be.
No longer is she,
right here beside me.

Absent is she, no asking of me.

                                  - poem by Rick Dixon


First Impressions

Love at first sight?
My passion ignites.
My heart takes to flight,
To my emotion’s delight!

Love at first sight?
It's what poets’ pens write,
Of a blissful delight
Which their readers recite.

Love at first sight!
I'll say it forthright.
Absurd the thought quite;
Though I hope it just might!

                                  - poem by Rick Dixon


Two Years Later

Chances were given
for reasons not mentioned
to offer up solace
steadfast with full promise
that never was meant
for the time that we spent
‘til that malevolent day
you elected to send
me forever away.

I am lost, still - today.

Pray as I might,
relief's beyond sight,
no embrace to hold fast;
alone I still am.
No touch of your hand,
no kiss on your lips,
no smile from your eyes,
no thrill of surprise.

My sadness, disguised

                                  - poem by Rick Dixon

All I Ever Wanted

It seemed he always wanted
that in which he could not have.
Such is often the curse of those that see so vividly,
hear so clearly, feel so passionately,
and truly love so deeply.

For him it was unsuspected acquaintance
that delivered her from the universe into his world.
She arrived with her overwhelming beauty;
eyes that reach out and pull you inward
toward her sea of flowing hair,
red like the lipstick that accented her smile,
every part of her burning an image
forever onto the walls of his soul.
It was the gentle calming
of her southern voice, as it sang to him,
that made him ache for her words.

It was both the pain and the thrill
of feeling such intense emotions,
so quickly, simply brought on
by her mere presence.
She easily was everything he had ever desired
and presumably everything he could not have.

However this time love could be different.
Maybe this time he had found not
what he could have or have not,
but instead her, that would have him.

                                  - poem by Rick Dixon


Excalibur II

I have been searching for my special one.
Waiting for the Lady of the Water
to emerge from her safe haven
and draw the sword from my stone-cold heart.

My life restored, I will become her knight
and she, my beautiful queen.
With that sword in hand I'll hold her tight
as we shall take on our world.

And on those days that I fail, as we all do,
it will be her that picks up my sword
and hands it back to me.

Together forever.

                                  - poem by Rick Dixon

As My Love Sleeps

May your dreams be choreographed by Angels.
May your mind record each detail.
May your heart beat ever faster 
as your soul its desires does tell.

As your hand reaches out to touch mine
my absence made clear in the dark.
You lay there alone without me
those nights that we spend far apart.

Awake for just a moment
to revel in dream’s delight.
Your eyes you allow to go closed
as we continue to dance until light.

                                  - poem by Rick Dixon


When Two Souls Aligned

How could they have known
that a spark was set aglow
from a kiss so long ago
when two separate souls aligned
together once upon a time?

God answered the silent prayer given.
An Angel was sent, though Satan meandered,
as he often does in the cold hearts
of those standing blind with evil minds
when aligned wanting souls to be their time.

A day, a year, a decade, more
apart they lived their fate that way.
Time tried, it did, but failed it had
to take away that which they had,
a love from when their souls aligned
even if it not their time.

Memory endured of her pure essence
Never to be forgotten, ever to remain
like pain when heart's true love goes absent
as it had from the days when two souls aligned
for such a short time.

How could they have known, dear God!
that a spark was still aglow, dear God!
when two souls aligned, yes again!
after so much time, for a second time.

Would this truly be their time?


Yet as if it were Satan's wish
to not allow God's granted gift
despite the years and tears behind
those two souls that realigned ...
proved once again, its not our time.

                                  - poem by Rick Dixon


Significant Insignificances

Amazing the significance
we both have placed
upon the insignificant event
of the current time being
exactly 12:34.

Amazing the significance
we both have placed
upon the insignificant event
of the hiding and finding
of a crumbled piece of paper.

Amazing the significance
we both have placed
upon the insignificant event
of identifying all movies that
fall short of mainstream hype.

Amazing the significance
in my life you’ve become
born of the pure enjoyment
of simply being together with you …
sharing significant insignificances.

                                  - poem by Rick Dixon


Chronograph: 17:08:17

chron-o-graph [kron-uh-graf, -grahf] -noun

  1. a timepiece fitted with a recording device,
    as a stylus and rotating drum, used to mark
    the exact instance of an occurrence.

  2. a timepiece capable of measuring extremely brief
    intervals of time accurately.


I wanted to buy a watch,
a technically stylish chronograph.
Then it occurred to me that
a watch could only display two meaningful times;
the hour of the day when I was with you,
or the hour of the day when not.

When I am with you time is irrelevant,
for you are everything.
When I am not with you, time only measures
the duration until we are once again together.

It will not be the hours that we share,
but the memories of what we
have shared in those hours
that gives time its significance.

I no longer desire that watch,
I simply cherish time with you.

                                  - poem by Rick Dixon


Love At First Light

Dancing angels silently retire
behind twilight’s velvety shroud.

Night’s lightless journeys severed,
yielding way to rising sun and amber cloud.

A delicate kiss to warm what lingers
of autumn’s blushing first frost.

Delicious trembles of anticipation
as daybreak’s lovers hearts rouse.

Adoring eyes at first light gaze
as sunlight fills the room.

The morning and its radiant abundance
are made most beautiful by you!

                                  - poem by Rick Dixon


An Early Fall this Year

And with its changes comes my tears.
Exhausted from the elements of your abuse
my heart searches desperately for shelter.
I am afraid it shall find none.

Last year I took refuge in another's heart.
How wonderful life was with love and hope.
To be needed and loved, it is all I ask from you.
Yet it is only rejection that I ever receive.

I wish for last year's love to return
adding warmth to this first frost,
melting my pain like the morning sun.

Only my memories of feeling loved remain.
Though my heart holds tight those images
as the withered leaf clings to its branch.

I know not how I'll survive this season alone.
As I am afraid that fate will not be so kind again.

                                  - poem by Rick Dixon


Lambs and Goats

Lord, when did we see You naked,
or hungry, or in prison?


You were just a stranger
approaching adjacent in a crowd.
Never a threat of danger,
your look of less than proud.

You said Hello to me,
as we passed each other by.
My response was pure reflex,
as we caught each other's eye.

You returned to offer your body
in hopes of money, your cure.
You told me of your hunger
as we approached the exit door.

You said that you were desperate,
that you really needed help.
You looked so worn and stricken
with a pain I've never felt.

"Two dollars? Yes I thank you sir!
Five dollars would be great!
Ten dollars, I'd be off the street tonight
for it is the shelter's rate."

Offering little of the much I'd had to give,
rejecting your words as lies.
I stopped and saw you looking at me
as the tears flowed from your eyes.

You quickly ran and disappeared
in the darkness of the night.
I searched for you for hours
to change my wrong to right.

Find you no, I never did,
not one dollar did you take.
But one lesson I did learn from you:

Always deliver kindness,
for it's what we all deserve.


And I say to you, "When you have done this
to one of these, the least of My brethren,
you have done it Me."

Matthew 25: 31-46

                                  - poem by Rick Dixon



Please touch me that I may feel.
Hold me tight and make it seem real.
Return what I've lost, from years in the cold,
someone please love me, before I grow old.

Please take me away from this unending pain,
my life without love ... my heart so tearstained.
My passion imprisoned, captured by fear.
My soul it does scream, though no one does hear.

Somebody please notice, my silent disease.
Help me, I'm dying. I'm drowning. Please see.
Somebody, anybody show me how to go on.
Don't leave me this way, unloved and alone.

                                  - poem by Rick Dixon


Evening Calls

Last phone call at night.
Everyone else, the whole world - finally sleeps.
A time to talk with you while no others listen,
just two voices dancing quietly in the dark.

A chance to speak in the absence of light.
Nothing to see, except the smile in your voice.
Caressed by your loving words - your kisses I imagine.
Apart, yet together - our passion tethered.

At night, we do not dream
of what we have - but of what we've not.
And this alone, brings you closer to my heart.

                                  - poem by Rick Dixon



My heart rejoices once again
for at last it's been set free.
You touch the very depth of me
and reside among my dreams.

The feeling of such utter joy,
orchestrated while I rest.
No need to hide, I am safe inside,
made whole by your presence.

I dare not speak of love just yet,
hence I choose to hesitate.
Though when asleep at night
I dream your love's my fate!

Perhaps someday soon we'll share a kiss,
as we stroll along a stream.
As for now, I'll hold you in my mind
as we dance through each night's dream.

                                  - poem by Rick Dixon


Yes, I Still Do

I loved you I did and yes I still do.
Wish that things were different with you.
But you are the one that has made,
this choice for us both.

You don't have to explain your reasoning.
But it leaves me always wondering,
what I did wrong,
and why there's no hope.

Returned to the man that beat you down before.
Thought many times of settling that score.
But why hurt the man that you choose,
to give your love to?

I did my best to be kind to you.
Always respected and trusted you.
So I don't understand what I have done,
to be treated this way.

Just a call once in a while,
if made by you, is all it would take
to help me get through. Yes, a chance it would be,
to lessen this pain.

The call doesn't come.
I never hear from you.
Friends say it's better if I forget of you.
But they really don't know,
the way that I feel.

Maybe I'll call you, in spite of what they say.
Forget you no - I don't think that way.
Close to my heart you have been,
and there you'll remain.

There is only one thing, I would say to you.
I loved you I did, and yes I still do.
If ever could I just have that one chance,
to tell you goodbye.

                                  - poem by Rick Dixon


Two Friends at Lunch

It's just two friends at lunch you see
with lives from pasts lived separately.
Close friends once, but never lovers,
Though silently desired one, the other.

Adventures to tell, the smile on her face.
My feelings kept quiet, to remain in their place.
Though I shall wonder as I look in her eyes
if I should tell of my feelings inside.

Maybe she'll see them without any words.
Maybe she won't. My thoughts so absurd!
Alone it's been me that's carried this weight,
thirteen long years to sit face-to-face.

Across a small table, our hearts within reach.
A chance to tell her, but they're words I can't speak.
Alas, many a tale having come to its end,
they minutes flew by, the time has been spent.

A chance has been given, life's answered my prayers.
But nothing has changed - it seems so unfair!
I'll always wonder, one last look in her eyes.
Should I have told of those feelings I hide.

But it's just two friends at lunch you see.
Things left unsaid - for eternity.

                                  - poem by Rick Dixon


Chronological Chapbook

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