"caterwauls" poems
In to the mystery of the night, i wander
the tangled tarantula garden
canopied with prophesies of light,
Lit windows are making
overtures to desires
night unleashes at these hours,
hear the buzz in the air
its time to make love,
darkness forgets hurt and embraces light.
i walk alone,
but an enchanting witch wait
for me somewhere in a garden bench,
to take me by my hand to her secret haunt
filled with thick smoke of ****
where she will remove the drapes
to let me see the truth.
On her quill and cactus bed,
she would make me understand,
how far is pleasure from pain
why darkness stalks light,
a jilted lover, walking a few steps behind,
I've heard her, once whisper
to wind in her husky voice
"A life written off by those
who measure out life with coffee spoons,
as spent in vein; this life of mine,
could have its secret treasures,
no charlatan could ever guess about
a serpent's diamonds
very few get to see,
its dangerous to pry, i forgive their ignorance"
Words induced by her dark power
has layers of meaning
but to many it was just meaningless jabbering,
just magic mushroom blabber
She nibbled and nicked my earlobes,
in between intoxicating purrs,
told me the meaning of caterwauls,
**"Its not pain, its not pain,
once you get in to the stream
you only want to drain,
in to the vast blue ocean"**
I recognize now, it's Walpurgis night,
as i walk in search of my witch,
i see dancers around bonfire,
revelers totally out of their minds,
carouse at the heart of the night.
And i see them all, witches in marine blue dresses,
enchantresses in blackly black,
coquettish red or groovy green,
I wait for her to appear,
the only one in resplendent white.
May 24, 2012
May 24, 2012 at 9:49 AM UTC
A canine trickster, trained himself
to phonate in cat's lingo;
his cat call sounded dog's howl,
caterwauls, were all fowl!
Aug 4, 2012
Aug 4, 2012 at 2:46 PM UTC
must i long for
the scarlet rain
that
did not phlebotomise,
did not secrete
from
codeine clouds,
if the milk would be spilt.
must i conceive ignus fatuus
colourcasts from the television
inside a mouth
that caterwauls
faces of static and pollen
and Klaus Nomi masks
as if i were lobotomised
eating flowers fingered out of
the flesh of the brain
carnations would not exist.
i do not want to believe
the promise
of lovers were
merely yous' and
eyes'.
no such world is eyeless.
or any less without eyes.
become my chalk and bones.
i want to believe
humanity
is a defined mass
of bathypelagic insects
sleeping in chrysalids
longing to be
broken.
break me.
i want to understand
there is an euxine ocean
beyond my bathtub.
Nov 19, 2010
Nov 19, 2010 at 4:41 AM UTC
The crescent moon and jupiter
in tonight’s hauntingly beautiful, omniscient sky
gives me this fleeting feeling
of a temporary recluse of eternal bliss
from this scattered world that caterwauls from the inside out.
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 12:52 AM UTC
I’m cocky, I’m clumsy,
Fumbling about everywhere;
Catching applause, dodging boos,
I am addicted to the fear.
Then, Cortisol spikes,
Please don’t leave me left alone again.
I’ve talked too long to Wall,
And it’s drips are dropping in.
From the lashes of my eyes
To my ten ice-tipped toenails,
I’m shivering, alone, destined to just—
—Warmth interrupts.
On my bed sits a Person.
I’m startled, taken aback.
I pressed end,
A new song began.
This person takes a gentle breath,
Blows it out light,
Expels all my demons.
A world's revealed, seems alright:
One where I don’t have to fight?
The binary: break through or break down?
Faking, then overtaxing, my mental might?
My complex analyses of everything,
—My foremost forte—
Was the invisible tangible holding me back.
How silly of me
To make power moves in a vacuum
At terminal velocity,
Until, by degrees, I was turned off track,
Distracted by these demented deals,
The fine print details that I needed, but lack,
And its back to the yard, then back to the—
—Warmth interrupts.
My Person takes my hand,
Pulls us back,
Till side by side
We lay.
I close my eyes,
And forget that wall,
Forget all those screaming caterwauls,
Forget the hate, the pain, the torture,
Though I still hear it call.
All it took was all there is,
Two hands clasped
In a bed for
One.
Sep 25, 2017
Sep 25, 2017 at 5:52 PM UTC
09-24-2018
Caterwauls, there are oodles of pain in that puddle of solidarity. Reverberating through the halls is my independence, which flies past, teasing no string for anyone.
“Does…..”
“Does it fly too high for us?” asks the child.
“I’m afraid so.” yearns the older child.
Perhaps that is the cruel face of our inauguration into life. That stage we wear out our soles on is a facsimile of our minds; just a perfect portrait in a frame of time. We can’t trust ourselves to measure the constructs in our towering caves. The universe is a disservice to the neurons, the sky bridges that have our grey matter endowed.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. It’s a big thing to grasp, but we’ll soon grow into it. I think we ought to believe that. I might leave some people behind. Are you okay with that?
Everyone here has to grow to such a height where they may accept their own speed, where the velocity of their footsteps is made apparent and remarkable. This note must end now, but you’re sure that I’ll be back, aren’t you? I know you are, you must be. This should be enough, you know. Time comes for everyone in erratic bursts, and it deserts one like a vagrant.
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 12:52 PM UTC
I cupped my hands
Like a cave,
Whispered in
And smelled decay.
I took a peek
Through life's keyhole,
Saw our miserable
World unfold.
I placed an ear
To our globe's wall,
Heard the sobbing
Caterwauls.
I laid my hands
On friends and foes,
Forgot, forgave
The lies and blows.
With all my senses
I repent
The grief I caused,
I live content.
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 11:54 AM UTC
silent nights
are not holy nights
the silence
the silence
aching for caterwauls & wails
look around you
in the dark
the dark
can you see static?
can you hear it close in on you?
the silence becomes louder, LOUDER
your ears bleed
Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 8:01 PM UTC