#owls
No one sees the useless old thing,
Perhaps a trophy from an old hunting trip,
Or a once prized possession of a collector.
Anything you can think of may fit,
But we all know what it was:
A plain old barn owl collecting dust
Upon the shelf of some antique store.
Killed and stuffed as decoration,
Passed around by its previous owners,
Re-gifted endlessly due to its unsettling gaze.
No one cared as its body ceased moving,
And its wonderful feathers became drenched
In its blood and the dew upon the grass.
Forever the bird will be posed upon its stand.
A whisper of its former freedom and glory.
No one will see how it should've been,
Only what it is now:
In the corner of the antique store collecting dust.
May 8, 2025
May 8, 2025 at 2:25 PM UTC
The world and all its many fingered thumbs
has me by the throat
tugging hard at the wire
gripping tight it cuts, sharp at the prospect of another hour
until I do not know if flesh is bone,
bone is flesh,
or some thing in-between,
all is pain, and pain is all
lightning in a head that is filled to the lips with rags and straw
raw alight and burning bright, although I wish it were not so
I want it dim to let me sleep,
let me hide in dull-thought darkness
calm beneath the leafy shedding midnight trees
with their echoed mindless hum
and owls, there are always owls
screeching brutes of talon tinted wings
that eat the other flying things that haunt my night
and I can only lay
and wait for morning light
Apr 22, 2025
Apr 22, 2025 at 8:34 AM UTC
Where you might see—an owl
I see a lovely creature
With eyes the size of silver dollars
The most striking of their features
And how they survey and own the night
Always watching, never losing sight
Mirroring the moon's reflection, with their eyes.
Mar 24, 2025
Mar 24, 2025 at 8:56 AM UTC
there is an owl
out there
somewhere
in the darkness
kept secret
by whispering trees
shrouded
in shadow
by leaf
and cloud
it seems
to have a question
for any
who will listen
politely
but persistently
it inquires
pausing briefly
awaiting
an answer
before asking
again
and again;
whether intended
or not
this interrogation
has infuriated
the old boy
and seemingly
every other canine
in the vicinity
Sep 15, 2022
Sep 15, 2022 at 10:43 AM UTC
Have you considered the owl?
Excluded from days
like a diabetic warned off fudge
Is the carob of night enough?
Sure, it’s dark, possibly smooth
and those tasty rodents move there
But look at the day
with a head that can turn right round
you’d see every rotten thing
Every bad stroke and selfishness,
every creaky knee and thumb
in clarity, loud
Oh to be the owl
Jan 9, 2022
Jan 9, 2022 at 1:10 PM UTC
owls in willow trees
saddest of images to me
owls in willow trees
softened broken limbs in me
owls in willow trees
let mossy scars all over me
owls in willow trees
night windows time in me
owls in willow trees
now have nothing to do with me
owls in willow trees
where I have been arrives in me
owls in willow trees
more than many of each of me
owls in willow trees
past beyond memory me
owls in willow trees
now there is enough of me
Mar 18, 2021
Mar 18, 2021 at 9:47 AM UTC
My eyes flick over the textured ceiling,
connecting dots and making patterns
like some kind of giant Rorschach test.
I surrender to cliché and tell myself that
if I can just get through the night
that tomorrow will be different,
that everything will be fine in the morning,
but the dawn rarely brings salvation.
I close my eyes instead and listen
to the sounds of owls awakening,
asking questions that have no answers.
Jan 5, 2021
Jan 5, 2021 at 9:11 PM UTC
i used to throw bread crumbs into
a pond full of minnows next to a
place where i worked years ago
it kept me cool in the summertime,
pulling the heat out of me and
feeding it into the winds as
a turtle snapped up dozens of fish-babies,
transforming the vision of my frame into
maybe the size of a praeternatural feather
and for a moment,
i dreamt that on a clear night through the
eyes of a barnyard owl that i could
navigate the dark foldings of
space into the beating
hearts of praying
rodents—
blinking back to a view of
disturbed green waters—
i commenced
to waking...
"the frenzy, at rest"
© 2020 by Seranaea Jones
all rights reserved
Sep 5, 2020
Sep 5, 2020 at 6:27 PM UTC
Bait Bombing from above
Is this love?
His talons crush the meat of my soul
Sharp, vivid, and calculated
Spitting pellets of my nucleus
onto rough grassland
Until I am reborn
into a vessel inept from the hunt
Doomed to weave
Cursed to grieve
Oh Athena Pallas, bestow mercy upon Arachne
Apr 20, 2020
Apr 20, 2020 at 1:11 PM UTC
I saw an owl once
It swooped down in front of my car at full speed
It flared it’s white wings and looked me in the eyes as I ran over it
I always knew it meant something because it shook me so bad
I saw an owl the night I went to see her
It flew across the road and looked back at me
It taunted me to remember his brethren that I killed
It planted itself again in my memory of remorse
I saw another owl again this morning
He didn’t even look at me this time
He just flew past me to remind me that they’re still here
Maybe they forgive me… maybe I forgive myself
Oct 21, 2019
Oct 21, 2019 at 2:58 PM UTC
When the dust clears and you are near
The air brushes a wind straight through your hair
Sensations I cannot explain, sunshine or rain,
I see you see me call your name
In silence, the desperate call, I wait each night
If the stars align, and Jupiter meets Saturn, then it is the time
The gate will open and you will meet the lover’s nest
The owl awaits and watches the hawk below Venus once the sun sets
Jul 14, 2019
Jul 14, 2019 at 1:49 AM UTC
Parched in a tree,
Watching the prey with glee.
Seeing them scurry and run without limitation,
Makes me pounce without hesitation.
I grasp the prey sqirumining,
Hearing the voice of them worming.
I clench my claws over there body,
I pierce it’s hide,
And my talons get ******
It starts shaking with false life, shaking and shaking,
Until it gives in and all the meat is for the taking,
All the death is for the taking.
I parch in a tree to enjoy my feast,
And watch see the sun rising in the east.
Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 3:31 PM UTC
Dear night mother,
The youngling flew the coop.
Off for wild adventures, he cannot be tamed.
His elder kin spoke of magic,
The intellectual splendor of spells
Gifted yes, but not quite so as her
The painted daughter of darkness,
She colours the world in twilight.
This brings us to dusk, mantle I wear proud.
Eldest of eld, nutured by you mother,
To grow strong, wicked and well.
Those glowing eyes,
The prestege of feathers
Mother owl, bless our endeavours.
Grow old, grow wise
Bless you, oh mother,
And the nocturne skies.
Mar 31, 2018
Mar 31, 2018 at 7:42 PM UTC
Down swoops lonley owl
Graceful talons search for prey
As field mice scatter
May you land, dear owl,
Where love is a place, learning
the languange of the night.
May you understand
"...the unfinished creation
Of a changing soul."
Mar 19, 2018
Mar 19, 2018 at 8:27 AM UTC
In the summer nights
The owls see the world
The world, the simple eye can not
In simple eyes
Vision is distorted
Wrinkles of reality
Lines of insanity
All that the simple eye can not
With simple eyes
Reality is within the visionless.
Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 8:35 AM UTC
We build our bridges of starlight
only burnt down by the blazing sun.
But we've just transgressed to night,
where owl wings have come undone.
The rat scuttles past the forest floor,
leaves crunching in their path like the fall,
as some people leave open doors,
when they have no one else to call.
The owl swoops in to take its meal
on four, short weak legs.
The shadows across her window
shows the two dropping into her bed.
The owl took its meal and ate;
his stomach was now full.
The man had what he wanted to take.
He left a feeling so cold and cruel.
Burning bridges isn't fun
if they can only be seen at night.
They can only be burnt by the sun,
and these were bridges of starlight.
Sep 2, 2017
Sep 2, 2017 at 10:58 PM UTC
*[intro/verse 1]
Follow the ruts
To learn the art
Of shattering one's
Diamond heart
[pre-chorus]
the errs in flair
will flare the prayer
take one more step
if you really dare
[chorus]
the church and it's chairs
will be burning in flames
the frame of the graves
will fade in the darker shades
as the human race
start hating their faith
[verse 2]
Hear the howls
From the demons
Hear the owls
Late at night
Singing lullabies
Unsaid secrets
Unseen crimes
Will fear them all
Walls‘ve eyes
For your lies
Wolves will cry
With both eyes
Closed at night
Showing the signs
Of ending lives
[bridge]
We will all
Typify
The disaster of
Human kind
As the day and light
Will all die
[chorus]
the church and it's chairs
will be burning in flames
the frame of the graves
will fade in the darker shades
as the human race
start hating their faith*
Aug 30, 2017
Aug 30, 2017 at 8:44 AM UTC
See the owl in swift silent flight,
Surfing the darkness of the night,
In control of its black domain,
Its prey killed quick, no time for pain.
Don’t be outraged when its victim dies;
The owl’s not a mugger of the skies,
No malice shown when it hunts for meat,
It leaves alone what it cannot eat!
Aug 18, 2017
Aug 18, 2017 at 2:43 PM UTC
Mystery in my night. Have seen you once, a pair of you.
I wait for the night to hear your sounds, venture out into the deep hot sand.
Where are you. Hoo hoo I hear you again. I call to you wait a moment, your not silly, knowing not for a single moment I am an owl.
I only wish to see your beautiful face, so white and bold, you truly have my mind on hold.
To watch you fly wings span so far into the sky.
Seems like you touch the moon. I only want to soar with you.
Your safe here with us, no fear of hunters here. Trust me each night, as I shall protect you here.
Come again beautiful one. I find peace and comfort watching you each night.
Nashoba copyrighted 2017
Jul 31, 2017
Jul 31, 2017 at 6:06 PM UTC