I pray
for lonely women
this Sunday
afternoon
in the dark corners
of dive bars
none
too soon
they flock
to the watering holes
humming
sad tunes
then slink
to the shady corners
of an underlit room
so I prey
for these

lonely

women
on this Sunday
after noon 0;)

Black adder awaits
Stalks it's prey
First strike
Second strike
Third strike
All is calm
Black adder is dead

The poet weaves his magic web of words
They dance in the moonlight
Glistening with dewdrops
Like mezmerizing stars
Stalk and pounce is left to lions
The prey will come to him
Lured by sheer beauty
A glimpse of the soul
Hidden secrets locked in boxes
Peeks inside draw her near
The truth is found in years of purging
Unabashed release without inhibitions
Darkness and light
Shadow puppets of reality
Watched, absorbed
And loved more with each passage
Harsh words foment
Pain breeds caring
Love and hope pull her in
Laying bare on the dewy silken words
She waits and he smiles
As he claims his prize

and somehow i'm still feeling raw
the wounds should have already been healed
still feeling the effects of your claw
and the layers of me are being peeled
you stripped me of feelings
sliced open old wounds
but on the outside
it looks just like a bruise
can we trust what we see?
is it all what it seems?
because you appeared friendly
but you can't see venom
you just feel it when it's injected
and you poisoned me
my mind is infected
sometimes silence
cuts deeper than words
and i would love to pretend
that it was truth i had heard
but a lie was all
that you sloppily slurred
it was what you deemed i deserved
apparently you didn't find in me what you wanted
but nevertheless with my feelings you taunted
i was just another game played
until you saw
your new found prey.

The heron sits still
in the tranquil waters
waiting with patience for its prey
casting a shade with its wings
the fish squirms between its beak

Peering through the dense trees,
Sinking low, light footsteps
He stalks his prey.
A newborn pup
Yipping and clumsy
Falling over herself
Just to stand back up
And do it again.
The hunter shifts between the silken grass
And the soft clay earth
Keeping his eye on the promising young blood
Craving her bones and fleshy meat.

The pup licks her paws
Pouncing on small bugs and feathers
She laughs with a bark that sounds like music
Burying her new toys, she wiggles her tail in the air
Then digs in to the earth with zero inhibition
She is vibrant and strong, a natural-born leader.  
Happy, free, and full of promise.

Nose to the ground,
He anticipates the musky smell
Of his close-knit pack
He advances, visceral and quick
His vision turns a violent red as he
Loses his stealthy and cautious movements
His gait lengthens and he slides in the dirt
Snapping his jowls, he is wild with hunger.

The pup yelps and snarls,
Too small to fight back
But trying her mightiest to stand her ground.
Her attacker sinks his teeth in from behind,
Slashing his rustic head back and forth
Listening to her fading cries as he growls with success.
Shaking every ounce of strength from the
Poor girl's lifeless form,
He tastes sweet victory and steps back
Satisfied with his current catch.

He turns his head to call his pack;
A wolf's howl only the moon can hear
But he sees instead the sad, vacant eyes of
The pup's grieving father.

Crouching silently,
The hunter lies still
Barely a breath escapes
His agile body.
With the speed
Of a fierce lion
And the precision of
A skilled hawk
He spots his tiny prey

He watches
Using practiced patience
For the perfect moment
Then
It is done
As quickly as the hunt began
An arrow pierces it's target
Silent and quick

The hunter is successful
And the prey unaware
It was ever in scope

Sometimes I wonder
Is this like life?
Unaware until it is
Just
Too
Late.
Or am I in control,
Swiftly passing through?
I suppose it
Begs the question
Am I the hunter,
Or the hunted?

Early morning mist is floating around,
with the hawks flying high in the sky,
I sit alone without a sound,
as I watch and animal about to die.
Swift like lightning a hawk flew down,
gripping a rat by the spine,
as the red began to replace the brown,
I take this death as a sign.
Here I sit alone and confused,
looking into the future of my demise,
death by hawks within due to strife.
My opportunities I abused,
constantly taking my eyes off the prize,
with my back protruding a knife,
a hawk came down and stole my life,
I refused to look into the skies,
and due to my confidence misuse,
from this life I was excused.