I take from the rich
And I give
To the richer
Grow money trees
And then watch the world wither
I've slithered
In gardens of green
Dripping red
With a purity hood
Draping over my head
I have poisoned the fountain
Of youth
To retain
My control of this endless
Monopoly game
As my capital gains
A skyscraper a day
To the skyrocket
Stock market
Locke's do I pray
Upon all to be blessed
With lavish excess
But succession of kings
My investment ******
To breed wealthier nations
Uncommon in man
Through unhealthier rations'
Invisible Hand
Do I muppet the mouths
And harp on the heartstrings
As I tug on the chains
Of the slaves
Freedom rings
And that fat lady sings
All she wants
I will cling
To this power
With eagle-lied,
Vulturous talons
Devour
The will
And then **** the bills,
Billing blood that I spill
With impunity
Robbery,
Poverty
Property
I am the law
There is no order stopping me
No cherry topping me
No global powers’
High towers
Are topping me
No master forces endorsed
Are out-shopping me
Spending spree
On the lost souls
Now to bending knee
Fall
And enthrall in the terror
Of my urban sprawl
Making maggots of masses'
Automaton dreams
Into my gilded ages'
New pyramid schemes
You can call me a liar
Truth is
No concern
To the one who reigns fire
With oil to burn
Down upon the deniers
Until they all learn
I'll recruit body bags
To preach life to the choir
And when the screen lags
Train these dogs to play dead,
Lay their own on a wire
In so doing shred
The carnage they desire
So I can play God
And with demons conspire
A masterful plan
To command the economy
Zombie hive mind
Get in line
For lobotomy
My progeny
Multiply to consume
And consume
And consume
'Til the ******* last fume
Dissipates into space
The good fortunes of Earth
All amounting to waste
With the mother who nurtured you
***** and disgraced
The four steeds
Of Apocalypse
Nothing but paste
For I win every time
I with you
Humans race

Scars Masking My Flesh,
Fate's Talons Are Sharp And Ruthless,
They Aren't Afraid To Make You Bleed

My Heart Deflated,
Dreams Sedated,
I Thought I Made It,
But It Was Just Hallucinated,
Thought I Made It Past The Guns,
But When I Came Up To You, You Held One,
I Started To Run,
But You Shot Me Down,
You Cut My Lips Making A Permanent Frown,  
Now There Is A Surreal Pounding In My Crown,
As You Try To Make Me Accept Your Apology,
You Yelled And Abused,
You Left A Me With Some Bruses,
And A Permanent **** On My Heart,
You Hungry Ghost,
In Ways You Were Crueler Than Most,
You've Added To My Collection If Battle Scars

Hope Slashed My Wrists,
And Sliced My Shoulders,
I Sit Here And Wonder,
When Will This War Ever End*

I'm Terrified,
But I'm Not Leaving,
I'll Fight In This Warful World,
Until I'm No Longer Breathing,
While My Heart Is Lethargically Beating,
I Will Clean The Wound Where I'm Bleeding,
So Don't You Dare,
Try To Defeat Me.....

I felt the plunge of it's talons
   As it wretched my heart to pieces

The excruciating feeling of the ripping and the tearing of my heart

The sounds of it feeding upon me brought forth the vile in my stomach

I couldn't survive this time! I knew there had to be an end.

No more pain, no more ugly thoughts running rampant in my mind

No more seeking desperately to make it stop!

To just lay down and feel no more is the only thing left that I want!

To know that I was just a crazy woman in everyone's mind matters no more.

There's an emptiness inside of me
That I've been doing my best to avoid

Words used to fill the hollow spot
As deeply as the humans I once knew
But slowly they all slipped out
And left a bottomless well
That burns like rotgut whiskey and ulcers

There's an emptiness inside of me
That I choose to ignore

I take my mind off of it with small adventures,
Afternoon beers,
Late night cocktails,
Early morning ****** Mary's
And whatever semblance of interaction I can procure.

There's an emptiness inside of me
That I've been trying to ignore

But it has grown vicious teeth
And jagged talons
It tears me apart from the inside out
But you'll never see it on my face
Or hear it in my voice

There's an emptiness inside of me
That I've done what I can to ignore

But the emptiness inside of me is mine
And I'll walk with it to Death's door.

Enclosed
In the cottage
If this
Writer’s Blockage
Lasts
For too long
How lost
Would I be
The reason
For being
Alone this season
Was to grow
My talents
Like an Eagle’s talons
And claw through
The surface
For the purpose
Of providing
A service
That
Serves vice
The plate of truth
Unknowing to those
Who don’t know
Right
From wrong
Produced as a song
Bereft of a beat
Unleft alone
The agitation
Becomes aggravated assault
As I rip the pages
Out the book
To my own fault
I locked the lessons
I was to learn
In a vault
Which doesn’t collapsed
Under the pressure
But becomes stronger
Time lapses
As my mind run laps
And replays the days
When control
Was in tact
Now I let loose
And dug myself
Further in the hole
Any further
Sleep’s cousin
Will become us
Me
And my goals
Lie dead in the same bed
All because
I was too proud
To beg
Myself for forgiveness
Of putting me in this prison
Away from society
With plans
To raise propriety
But how
Can one learn
To better himself
When he’s alone
With no teacher
But himself
So selfish of me
To leave
The fate of the world
In my hands
Too stubborn
To share
My final air
With theirs 

Part the flag wrapping around the mast

where sailors ship into waters

as jesus was the worker

the one who built their boat

to stay onward

north of the edge of the world

to explain to the empty arms that fear

and flying were forever the same

if you really found it false

or just never believed that one thing

so true

could be seen and shared

but only to those who do not need to remind each other

that they too were not alone

with where they began will never be

back running between their fingers

the sand where they waved their lovers last goodbye.

How easily the exploding heart forgets

to tell those eyes you carry

to keep looking

no

the back will never turn

as it isn’t proud

only strong to hide

that is what’s behind it.

Leather those faces boys

tan the hide pinched to the bone

and no knife will be amongst your hot blood

but that sand will make you smooth again

just cover your eyes

I’ll tell you when you can look

that trust you have better pay off

for that last sight to make you blind

and rather to wander in all that is black

my two kept eyes lead your way

and you will call me home

and you will call me king.

What we all expected was your colors

but found none.

Lust brought on of loves final echo

the deadly siren be it drowning at sea

taming that it is beneath

the hollow ground burst of dead feet

loose from the kick that fell short

by the snakebite ripening

the purple fangs to the blood drip wound.

Now you see real monsters

to the stare the sun blinds

the quiet who look on forever burning

to see bright through the eyes

not closed

to the sinking star far in the ocean

that your bones now wander alone.

Birds sharpening their talons

of way up high as the weak beware

they cry on three feet

with a dead child from the start

where they should’ve just stayed behind

in the magnificent grandeur that the blind race toward

and live old with missing friends.

How has the sun risen

for so many days without missing one?

I say thank you for being on time

your work has gotten better.

young talons on a snowy roof mean no small beaks at the feeder below

Slithering at pace through grasslands looking for shelter
as the intensity of the sun beats down on this savannah
with it's darting tongue tasting the hot and arid air
serpent slender silent and full heads for it's liar.

It has been a good morning as the hunt has been fair
it has swallowed it's victims whole as it never tears
making good progress to reach it's rocky mound
midday is here this serpent should be underground.

A hurried sense of danger looms from overhead
by misfortune this serpent could well soon be dead
it sees a winged shadow drift slowly across it's path
many of his kind have fallen across this killers wrath.

The first deadly strike happens all too soon
numbness shields the pain of talons so sharp
for death has descended on this living being
as the cloak of darkness once more takes toll.


By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris

I’ll not take your time, beyond what the need,
To relate to you a story and deed
As there’s no one else to plea this decree …
For just I survived, don’t you see.

I’m an old man, with a mind full of mist
But details of that night in my mind still exist
As vivid and clear, both sharp and exact
No, no mist there – all of it’s fact!

When I was young, and adventure routine,
With excitement and newness still unforeseen
I was eager to spread my wings to the world
And seek more adventures as those wings unfurled

Within my long travels I happened to meet
Two other men, with friendships replete
One was named Beckett, the other one Flynn
And better friends there never have been.

Beckett was tall – an athletic type
While Flynn, the scholar, more of pinstripe
Pinstripe or athlete – it mattered not
It was our essence together and that which it wrought.

Engaged were we in all daring do
High on the mountains, and under seas, too,
We crossed dry deserts, and jungles of green
And other adventures there in between.

We’d been together, t’was our sixth year,
And still our adventures made us cohere
To every madness – to every rave …
Until we decided to enter The Cave.

We discussed the encounter and planning for weeks
And assembled equipment – some new, some antiques
Until at last the day it arrived …
And our excitement?  It still there survived.

The map we used, was bought from a guide
Who told my friend, Flynn: “Don’t go inside”
When he had learned of our journey’s intent:
To enter The Cave, and begin our descent.

The guides’ words, had given us pause
We had thought: What was his reason or cause?
But … dismissed were his words of advice
We had each other … and that would suffice.

With ropes and lantern-hats and other such gear
It was into The Cave we then disappeared.
The light from our lanterns speared into the dark
We spoke very little - made no remark.

Onward, downward, in blackness we went
Placing out markers for our later ascent
The sounds of our footsteps, and scraping of walls
Reverberated ‘round us – as echoed recalls

In about six hours, or maybe ‘twas more
We encountered water upon The Cave floor
And there all around were beautiful shapes
Never were seen such gorgeous landscapes

Stalactites, stalagmites and mineral mounds
And dripping water with its’ “plopping” sounds
Pinks, violets and shades of green hues
And small salamanders made their debuts

We found a small dry spot and then we assessed
This was a place we could stop now to rest.
I turned up my lantern, and took off my hat,
When Beckett said: “Hey.  Did you just hear that?”

I moved not a muscle, and my ears went to strain.
All I could hear were the droplets, like rain.
Then from The Cave’s bowels came a loud din
I continued to listen – then heard it again.

We looked at each other, but said not a word
Confused and startled by what we’d just heard
It wasn’t a moan, it wasn’t a gasp
But more rather like a guttural rasp

One thing was certain, it wasn’t of stone
That could create sounds while standing alone
T’was our discussion, from which to derive:
The source of the sound was something … alive.

Then from The Cave’s deepened black hole
Came again sounds from a source with no soul
The sound was menacing, and one I despise,
I watched the fear grow within my friends’ eyes.

Instinctively, we three then moved as one
In that instant – our re-ascent had begun
I had been last in the line coming down
Now I’d be the first to reach the “above-ground”.

Quickly my feet in the lead, lead the way
Flynn, right behind had nothing to say
My friend Beckett, brought up the rear
And in that position had the greatest to fear

The lamp on my hat pierced through the black
And I looked for our markers to lead us back
To save our strength, nothing was said
Again - the loud sound that filled me with dread.

The sound became louder and closer it be
And I moved faster through the black before me
I could hear Flynn’s breathing, so close behind
I tried to concentrate on the markers to find

Somewhere behind me, then snarls I heard
Loud and vicious, run together and blurred
Close … so close … the beast was so near
Adrenalin rushed through me to react to my fear

T’was then I was hit with an overpowering stench
The smell caused my stomach to turn and to wrench
The odor blew past me, and I knew t’was the breath
Of the Beast of The Cave – its’ oder of death.

I was near running, but down on all fours
Sweat was streaming from all of my pores.
Then I heard those terrible screams
The ones I keep hearing in all of my dreams

It was Beckett I knew in his shocked agony
Midst the snarled snapping of jaws I can’t see
I heard bones cracking and squishing of flesh
And the fear within me gave new strength afresh

My fingers were raw from grabbing the rock
But on moving forward my mind had its’ lock
My stomach still queasy from the stench of the beast
I knew it was finishing its’ beastly feast

I knew, too, t’was only a matter of time
When the beast would return - I had to climb!
I heard Flynn say: “IT’S COMING AGAIN!”
Again was a surge of my fear deep within.

I heard once more the beast from behind
And fought the panic taking over my mind
Something heavy struck against The Cave’s walls
The kind of sounds that ghastly appalls:

A scraping of talons of heavy clawed feet
Caused my heart to double its’ beat
I had the feeling that Flynn lagged behind
I screamed my urgings loud and maligned:

“Flynn!  Flynn!  Catch up to me!”
But took not the time to look back and see
For the beasts’ crashing against The Cave’s face
Told me it neared – and was re-gaining the race

My knee hit a rock, and my balance was lost!
I fell to the ground, and then feared the cost
In losing the time in scrambling free
Again sheer panic stabbed into me.

In less than an instant, Flynn was there too,
His face in my light was of a strange hue
And as he helped me get back to my feet …
Flynn turned around – t’was The Beast there to meet.

The stench overwhelming, but the sight was much worse
There standing before us: The beastly curse
Of overlapping scales in shades of dark gray
The rest of its’ body concealed in umbrae

But its’ eyes … its’ eyes … I’ll never forget
Rheumatoid yellow, and deeply inset
Its’ reptilian lids blinked just one time
‘Fore its’ lips peeled back - revealing the slime

Glistening yellow over dagger-like teeth
Then oozed from its’ mouth to fall there beneath.
The beast reared up, then we saw its’ claws
Sharp and deadly within its’ forepaws

Towering above us, no sound the beast made
On beams of our light had his gaze stayed.
Unexpectedly Flynn then turned and faced me
… With less blinding light, the beast could again see

Why Flynn had turned I never will know
For the beast bit him in two, at his torso
And I was looking at Flynn – direct in his face
When the beasts’ bite his life did erase.

I screamed, and instantly away did I run
Away from the beast, and dead companion
Through the price of Flynn’s life, more time had been bought
To reach The Cave’s entrance – the goal that I sought

Running wildly, several times did I fall
Toppling did not my mission forestall
The beast I knew still somewhere behind
Drove me on forward with my frantic mind

I heard its’ clawed talons scraping the wall
And prayed I’d not again stumble and fall
Then, up ahead, a small opening I viewed
And I saw my chance, with hope there exude

Twelve feet … six feet … then it was three
But the beast and its’ stench was there behind me
I dove through the rock opening, scraping my head
But better that injury than ending up dead

I was elated, and about to rejoice
I then heard a scream – it was my own voice!
In my leg erupted intense blinding pain
Looking down I saw the bloodstain

My leg, through the opening, still was stuck out
There was but split-seconds, before I’d lose it no doubt
I pulled my leg back, and in but a flash
My shoe was removed by a clawed talon slash

I crawled back from the opening, then I could see
My wound was deep, from ankle to knee
Then suddenly through the opening came
A clawed talon whose aim was to maim

I quickly withdrew out of its’ reach
As claws shot through the openings’ breech
The opening too small, for continued rampage
And the beast began then to voice its’ outrage

It’s deafening roars assaulted my ears
Echoed Cave chambers and in my mind did adhere
I began attending unto my grave wound
Knowing I now was no longer marooned.

T’was another hour ‘fore I crawled out The Cave
But many days ‘fore I’d shed the shockwave
Of what had transpired, and what I had seen
And my damaged leg was lost to gangrene.

Now sleep evades me, for my horrible dreams
Show beams of light, and unearthly screams
Of Beckett and Flynn and The Cave we were in
I know tonight, I’ll re-live it again.

So, now you’ve the story, you’ve heard the deed
I swear is the truth I’ve herein decreed
And Beckett and Flynn are enslaved in their grave
And I lost my leg to the Beast of The Cave.

Your slurred thoughts,
Compatible with mine,
Sober and cold,
Like the dry wine.

Jumbled letters schpeel
Out your mouth,
The cider sinks down,
Eyes climbing south.

Hot sweaty palms,
Pull on my skin,
Taking all my naïvety
From deep within.

Inebriated breath,
"Smile through the pain"
Talons piercing,
As I try to abstain

along the red marble hall in the east wing
on either side, hung from the talons of granite stones
resting on their brother's shoulders in the bitter load baring
framed in golden oak and cherry wood, gilded arcane; several paintings
in the style of the Old Masters. And a long rug from foreign fjords
like a flat dune of spice, the length of a mile. pinched to a vantage point
in a spider's web. and a draft.
a draft through the twelve senses. your song un-gongs the gamelan
and the bells remain. pecked by crows of a different summer.
beads of honey making war
on paraplegic bees. we keep these in styrofoam cups to just enough; seal our wounds.
we encounter the lost rooms with the odd keys
on either side, the full length of the east hall. stout, brawny portals to discord and fable.
perhaps even windows of a different winter.
perhaps we know.

Trees bare, night falling,
Cat prowling, distant owl calling,
Cold air, frosted with flakes,
Of Snow.

Spotting the cat, owl awakes.
Owl and the Pussycat's strange
partnership plays out on the wild range.
One a trophy bearer,
The other wisely to accept.

The owl dropped down, talons filled with rat,
He accepted this ****, the black and white patch cat,
Looking at the other so close and so near,
There was no weakness, no fear.

***** cat took the rat mouth full of rodent,
The owl stood, feathers whiter than the moonlit snow,
Stopping and dropping the rat,to say,"My turn next
time, I know," then picking up the gift once again.

With eyes like fire
and breath to match
Fear swoops in on us
Wings ablaze
Tail like a whip
Hate wells up
Legs scream power
Talons ooze poison
Terror cries in our hearts

And with Fear, Hate and Terror
Comes, distrust, misunderstanding
prejudice.
A mighty Dragon is slain
An emblem of Earth destroyed
All because we didn't wait
We judged, misjudged
Now we have lost a great creature

Let out a little of the beast. Enough to appease it.

It howls. I feel it scratching, wearing away my mind.

This rage, This dark veil obscures. Clarity skits away.

Let a little out, then cage it again.

For this world knows not of the beast.

And it shall not.

thoughts of hate; my head i fill,
as talons scrape my window sill,
the memories rack my bones again,
as demons make my bed their den,

each night i feel them take control,
as each one strips away my soul,
and leaves me here a broken shell,
my haven lost en route to hell,

these demons are my guilty sin,
that eats away the life within,
my sanity; the locks that hold,
my heart already growing cold,

the light of dawn dispels my fear,
as demons now retreat and clear,
my empty bed again my own,
a dream perhaps? the truth unknown.

"Red Tailed Hawk"
Written in 2009 - 16 years of age

He sits on his perch
Nothing can touch him
Nothing can hurt him
Eyes like daggers
Eyes as cold as ice
Talons sharp like fire
Swift, keen, he waits

The parent blackbird
Shrieking in despair
Dives in again and again at him
Unscathed, he sits, waits, and watches
Without warning, he faints
Falling onto his prey
Talons and beak
Tearing into flesh
Stripping away the life

As I stood next to him
We talked about things
Gazing out into the lake
We were like lifelong friends
I asked him, "why are you fearless?"
The reply came from within his eyes
It was his domain, his territory, his life
A reply in simplest of terms
For the hawk, nothing is complex
After you have stripped away the flesh

Rewrite - Present Day. 20 years of age.

The sharp eyes pierce the veil of the day
Sitting on his perch, he silently waits
The singing trees grow quiet at his presence

The target in sight- the nest cradled
In the boughs of naked limbs is the victim
Of his narrowed gaze; silence is deafening

Unsheathed talons slice the air, death
In their grasp as the screams of the
Victims erupt from the noiseless space

Diving to and fro, the mother's desperate
Attempts to salvage the lives are useless in
The winged fury of the red-brown beast

The dagger-like beak tears away the
Life from the little ones. Feathers float
Gently to the ground- the silence returns

The fearlessness resonates in the air
Between the great beast and I. Earth,
Air, Trees. The great domain of the hawk

I walked to where the bones lay and
Find little chalk outlines. The flesh is gone.
Remaining only the simplest form of things.

And what have we left when our flesh has
Been devoured and dried up? The structures of
Our forms, the purest and most exemplary.

She kissed my subconscious, tainted with but
a breath upon my dreams, seducing me with
lucid terrors that bled into thoughts as If real,
her breath was the sand of convulsions as I
Arched with confusion to why me she kissed  

Night embraced me, its talons penetrated softly,
Leeching upon a soul. Could I elate to what was
wisps and what was actually real. She gave me
breadcrumbs to follow but unknown mouldy,
Decay was the path I took unbeknown.

The trees tugged upon my dream self, but I bled
In the real world, like a drizzle my blood seeped
Slowly on to the sheets below, fingerprints are
Memories on my soul.  she relished that the terrors
That were shadows now scratching I wasn't alone.

She kissed my subconscious, tainted with but
A breath upon my dreams, did she want to steal
Me away, or feast on the darkness that's now like
A vine dreaming waiting to birthed in to my waking
Days, I am in transit neither asleep nor awake.

I
“I didn’t know anything”

Astrapia,
the beautiful arcs of plum and golden
wrap in you a security.
It is disconcerting to see you know
so little--
to not see such daunting arcs
for rhetoric.
Hold steady.

II
“about the facts of life and that I didn’t know that I would conceive or so on.”

Misconceptions most fed,
generational ignorance liberating
throb and leisure and pleasure and…

Seemingly perfectly perched.
Feathery flow and bend
swoons over the exotic excitement
naturally--
unknowingly.
The color flushes,
flashing bright, a melting beauty.  
To know of this must be to know serenity…

III
“I stayed with him and he said he loved me.”

Every
prismatic fiber
is yours.

IV
“He said this was the only true way to show that you loved somebody.”

Paradise, what alluring shades you show.
The better to attract you, my love.
Oh, what mysterious gaze you hold.
The better to captivate you, my love.
Oh, what sturdy frame you stand.
The better to surround you, my love.
Oh, what fierce talons you stretch.
The better to clutch you, my dearest love.



V
“And I met him again then, and he said, Well you did it before; why can’t you do it now?”

He reaches for her once more,
as if for lifetimes
this had been the norm.
She settles in the familiarity and
loveliness that is,
or so would seem.
Neither flushed
nor melting,
with one door another opens.

“And that was the time I got pregnant.”

Little sparrows show off their agility,
dancing up and down violin necks.
Pecking staccato notes out of the air.
Making tea and dropping ceramics
behaving clumsily and babbling nonsense
even after they've been told
sit down and be quiet.

Imitation ducks sit squat,
quiet, muddy, decoying
singing water stains,
spitting curses from their bills.
Pulling bed sheets up to their chins,
nesting between the covers.
Very anonymous in their colours,
not a deviation among them.

Cold wax and dry glue
flake off creases and folds.
These lovely imitations,
cuckoo plaster cast knuckles
snowflaking to the ground,
useless with fine motor skills.
Peeling off like dead leaves,
parasitic nest components.

All my fingernails are different lengths,
evolving finches’ beaks
on isolated islands
With scratches on the vinyl of my thumb,
sand beneath my cuticles,
scrapbooks between my fingerprints.
Piano keys team up in groups of two,
sharing sharps and flats.


Filed and polished,
pink budgies dispose of portfolios apathetically,
slamming filing cabinets shut.
Cuttle bones rattling,
mirrors cracking.
Irritable thighs complaining,
they hunker with bad posture,
frowning on their perch.
Squat salient warbles
clamoring sharply down corridors
over whistling loudspeakers.

Poster orioles elbow aside crowds,
bright bones flashing
neon signs
keratin streaked or spotted
for biological attention.
Weaponry painted exciting colours,
friendly hues and enthusiastic tints.
Lies dressed in curiosity,
attracting intrigue.

My heron neck in the air
searches for information,
explanation, observation.
Greedy for projections,
living in the tree tops,
reflected in shop windows,
my skinny anisodactyl talons
for walking on mud,
wading through marsh,
boggy water.

My hands are geese
jabbering back and forth
across my chest.
its very distracting
to have these conversations
going on between palms,
arguing the best way to fold paper cranes,
whether chocolate pudding
should be stirred clockwise or counter.

Take a gander at the world you don't touch because your fingers are too flightly

On the claw of daybreak is a bridge, they say
     that extends to an everlasting sunrise foray,

     where every morning glory is at the cliff—
     whether they're climbing or descending is a riff—

     of muddied quagmires where a slew
     of sunflowers that on the talons of radiance either died or grew.

The Blue Falcon, cross the spire,
Waits in the gables of the white
House.  Wounded in youth by crush
Of air, spent, a wisp perched
In the aerie dark with a view of mountains
Blue as ice under glacier.  The wooden
Church from the other side clutches
The sky but the Falcon blue is lost
In a tuft of cloud that bobs but never
Kills.  On this strike he is sheathed in stealth
The dull talons slip as they dry
In the tented air, the songbirds at play
In the high-ground underneath warble
And chide but the Falcon cannot hear
The Falcon near.  His heart is soft
And muted in the breast, his ears
Are dumb to their tickling-songs.  

Before the Falcons time, over
The tilling fields, dropped his world
In the spoils where splendour burst in green,
Rain meant the feathers ran and the woods,
A banquet of game, were bounty's breach
Fording blue currents he was
A fisher in the sun, but the sun
Sank in his drowning sky no store
From plateau to quarry the drought of days
Moved a castle felled in the dancing
Dust, his wings broke in the shuttered
Eye of the sun and etched his form
Into grey silhouette.  

Now, the Blue Falcon, jeered
In the branches of the rooted air
Above the yellowed grass, under the pines
And a great blue mountain, stirs a Druid
Shape, vaporous, in the cauldron
Of the attic in the white house
A throw of stones crossways from
The sacred yews of the steeple spire.

The Blue Falcon, cross the spire,
Waits in the gables of the white
House.  Wounded in youth by crush
Of air, spent, a wisp perched
In the aerie dark with a view of mountains
Blue as ice under glacier.  The wooden
Church from the other side clutches
The sky but the Falcon blue is lost
In a tuft of cloud that bobs but never
Kills.  On this strike he is sheathed in stealth
The dull talons slip as they dry
In the tented air, the songbirds at play
In the high-ground underneath warble
And chide but the Falcon cannot hear
The Falcon near.  His heart is soft
And muted in the breast, his ears
Are dumb to their tickling-songs.  

Before the Falcons time, over
The tilling fields, dropped his world
In the spoils where splendour burst in green,
Rain meant the feathers ran and the woods,
A banquet of game, were bounty's breach
Fording blue currents he was
A fisher in the sun, but the sun
Sank in his drowning sky no store
From plateau to quarry the drought of days
Moved a castle felled in the dancing
Dust, his wings broke in the shuttered
Eye of the sun and etched his form
Into grey silhouette.  

Now, the Blue Falcon, jeered
In the branches of the rooted air
Above the yellowed grass, under the pines
And a great blue mountain, stirs a Druid
Shape, vaporous, in the cauldron
Of the attic in the white house
A throw of stones crossways from
The sacred yews of the steeple spire.

As above...


...Your sky-dial feline mind, unzips
Bold rose-hip teems of fervour, kept
On ice, throughout the needle of
the duty-bound laborious.

You have geared the slug of
greased machines have
waited tables overseas,
have moved your shoes
to rythms of inconsequence.

So below...

Call talons from your lava skin,
in tracings of a milky way, step
ladders through the cotton fields
to set aside a broken string.

Float, leaf, about your symetries
to crook your spine in Gothic arches.
Sovereign , deep in quicksand warmth
through paths of least resistance.

Dissolve in waves of ageless truth
dashesd amber over Roman tiles.
In wild writhes of curling fern,

Your body shines obsidian.

I, round the brae of Howth in chalky light,
Lamented my lot more spent in sport than play.
There, land appeared disinterested and sight
Was a teary well.  Cold was the shivering day,
And my frame, a ghost of shadow, was erased, 
It receded like the fog.  Just then, overhead
I saw brave birds engaged, a raptor traced
A mourning dove’s faltering flight, how it fed
Its own shining sense of purpose, for not
Wanton sport or lordly state do falcons
So hunt, nor did the bird in peril belabour
His reason, rather he tried avoiding those talons.
A question answered itself within my breadth,
Survival resides in a pageantry of death.

Like Falcons, Kestrels and Hawks
They swoop low to look and stalk
Holding breath for silence sakes
Looking for gullible easy prey
Talons around the throats of the genteel and shy
Uncaring of flowing tears, they make them cry

Recalling a sunny day so bright
When clawed and swooped in delight
Not knowing the heart that would break
That day, piercing ties did penetrate
Learning others spirits would wound
As the Falcon made his way around the night for doom
As his blackness did loom
All were hurt, tears were shed
Face after face he did skim
Heart rending cries that were abhor
For them no tears no more
Never spoken to again, they might
the evil kin do they despise
Torment and cruelty they do throw'
Gnashing one's teeth thinking about ado,
Bruises of blue they carry, bleeding of heart
A cold sweat trickling down the spine, apart.

Take away the face oh please
leave life alone, let all be in peace
Pain and heartache that  created, O' bemoan
Saying and caring, oh no just want to be left alone ...
For the uninitiated, lonely hearts
Lending tears of sorrow, leaving soul debased
Romance here, a wild goose chase
Holds so many as the Falcons swoop again ...

Debbie Brooks 2014

Plush cushions for a wood green hut
Indigent, arrogance, and Omniscience

Learned counterpart owned the seats
Grey, humble, Shamen

Pure fear, unmoving in his discourse

Pure love, uplifting in his seat

Time calls for action. Was he willing?

Yes--preparation inside the wood tree hut.

Inside the young man’s mouth
Chewed a taste of bubble gum worn out

For one hour they waited
Sitting comfortably, and waited

Blood Red skinned Demons peel off the roof
Razor Talons swinging
Razor Talons scratching at our young man’s head.

Our shamen waits, unmoving, calming, and encouraging

Inside his breath was a spell.
To calm, and quell any foe.
A cool breath froze the winged *******
Sending them back to where they came

Time passes
A mind now healed like a band-aid covering a wound
His mind was pulled closer.

Our young man returned his eyes to the wood green hut
Seeing the old man, smiling for his own part
A street-wide smile was sent back
Leaving the seat he thanked him with complete
Love for each other, and all mankind

i saw a little owl he began too hoot
sat there on a fence post in his feathered suit
he had great big eyes that he rolled around
looking in the air then down on the ground.

he had great big talons on his great big feet
so he could catch his prey when it was time to eat
he could see for miles when flying late at night
with his xray vision and his perfect sight

i sat there and watched him this creature of the night
he filled my heart with joy and brought me such delight.

I've been making deals
with my talons as they
graze my tufts of fur—
perfection is poison I don't
want in my blood. The contract
is written for the weak, the
signature line too divine
for my name. I must learn to
walk with feet, not wings. The
sun is already at a lovely low;
surely my wax frame would
spill into the ocean if I were to
ever attempt to kiss it.