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 Nov 2014 horseloversmyth
Tatiana
Night comes too quickly now,
the darkness smothers the homes
that are sleeping soundly on the ground,
and everyone is hiding in shadows,
no one made a sound.

The world in this moment is frozen,
but not by it's own choice
it's being held back by shadow hands,
they refuse to relinquish their hold,
they are indestructible, rubber bands.

Everytime a change is made,
it just snaps back into place
constantly in a gloomy depression,
where people are growing older,
but yet their lives are in a recession.

Note the changes young child,
because something is bound to happen
and those rubber bands will snap,
those shadow hands will fade,
and it will be your turn to adapt.

But those shadow hands will come back,
little child I understand your fear
but you have to fight them and survive,
that is the only way,
that you're town will become alive.

Shadow hands please let go of us,
you need to go
please stay away forever,
I will not allow this child,
to fight in a hopeless endeavor.

You're just torturing me,
I could be laying on my bed at night
and you will be there,
dancing above my head,
and all my tired eyes can do is stare.

Fight off your demons,
they spin wickedly
and they don't stop hovering,
I hear whimpering,
and I can't tell if it's me or the child they are smothering.

There are monsters everywhere,
in a town that sleeps so soundly
I can not allow this little child to fight,
in a place that is so dark,
bring me the light!

When the light finally comes,
I learn very quickly
that the child had an interesting identity,
my tired eyes finally understood,
that the whimpering, scared child, was me.

*Shadow hands please let go of me!
I was happy and I tried to fall asleep, but then some thoughts came back and then next thing I knew, I was seeing shadows everywere.
In the moonlight, high in the Lemon Gum,
perched under the arching ghostly branches
two eyes of jet peer from a snow-white mask.
Tyto Alba, the Barn Owl, with heart shaped
****** disc, edged with ruff of stiff feathers.
Mottled pearl-grey body feathers above
the moth like plumage, purest white beneath
her slim legs are bare on the lower half,
with small feet that end with deadly talons.

Nocturnal, she roosts in the heat of day.
You will hear her screeching in the cold night
hear the scream before you ever see her.
She can see in the half light of humans
night vision even in total darkness
pinpoints her prey by listening to each sound
the desperate, scuttling little creatures make.

She is a well designed killing machine
with hooked beak, powerful feet and sharp claws.
Her flight feathers have softened edges
to make her deadly flight near soundless
She swoops silently down without warning
seizing victims with her claws, biting deep
into their neck arteries, puncturing
their most precious organs for a quick death.
Owls are deadly but fascinating birds of prey.
 Nov 2014 horseloversmyth
Sabrina
I flip page after page

searching for an end to humanity's idiocy

yet this is not a story of brevity

I gaze upon the intricate ink of the yellowing pages

My mind sets into a seemingly perpetual haze

preventing me from truly absorbing the words

I give a silent thank you

For I do not know how I would react

to all of this confounding insanity

I close the book and caress its leather skin

I inhale the ancient smell it offers

A muddled grin crawls across my face

I  feel it spreading through every vessel in my body

The haze has removed itself from my being

A piercing clarity penetrates my soul

Ah, it has finally come

The gates have been opened

The madness flows freely
for Russell Edson*

whose name
escapes me
has paraphrased

death

death
is as big
as a house
My Whippet gone,
now dust once again.

I've given him back,
from whence he came.

To run again
in cosmic fields,
waiting to be born.

*Shanzi is a syllabic poem in seven lines  4/5 5/4 4/4/5
Unrhymed
Lines 1 and 2   INTRODUCE the SUBJECT
Lines 3 and 4   AMPLIFY what is affected by the image/subject.
Line 5 thru 7    Focus on NEW SUBJECT that complements and provides a meditative conclusion.
Shanzi may be Titled

Harrogate, TN  November, 2014
On November 4th, we put down our dog, Frazier. He was in our home for 17 years.
slosh of oars
ripples the night
of tremulous moons

the nightjar soars
on silver light
a sad tune croons!

tides up swell
lap the wood
in ceaseless kiss

moon grows pale
in deep brood
of broken wish

the misty haze
spells the core
spins a dream

mind in daze
forgets shore
drifts upstream!
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