Dusk has fallen. She takes the first touch
of a book, opening to breathe in its scent,
fingering through pages, letters bleeding
across paper, words wrapped round her tongue.
There is ink and blood and she is bound
between its covers, captured within images
that lay huddled by the yellow lamp. Outside
the room, bat wings catch the moonlight.
An owl cries. She’s settling for the night,
hunger fed until dawn glances
through the forest skyline, stepping
from this world to the next still crouched
in her dreaming mind, with a poem
lifting off to somewhere unknown.
This poem has also been recorded by the wonderful Abigail @The_Linnet and can be heard here
Written for dVersePoets Open Link Night (it’s Tuesday again already!) ~ hosted by the wonderful poet Claudia Schoenfeld
This gogyohka dance happened this morning, quite unexpectedly, when @novatwitman stalked and pounced on my tweet of ‘little poem’ ~ it resulted in this magical collaborative twitter poem. You can read more of @novatwitman’s ‘Wicked Thoughts’ here.
Beware little one
in the shadows
lurks the devourer
to his ears
if you must
only darkness hears
me and you alone
takes his bite
to all eternity
His beastly appetite
leans on her alphabet
promise the dictionary
for a bite
He leads her
by the commas
into her ear
verbs and nouns
Her poems wither
merge with his dark words
through forests wild
with the wolf
of the night
lost to his desire
no longer innocent
in forgotten words
two as one
~ finis ~
On salty waters where I cannot drown,
the times I sleep I float above the shores
in dreams of empty froth and meteors –
beneath the moon who wears her mottled gown,
and throws her web of light all over town.
In darkened streets my sleeping mind explores
shadows flitting by the silent doors,
past the sun who waits to take the crown
from the silver moon who steals the light
and scatters in the western wind that blows
in prickly wisps across my naked skin.
I surely will return another night.
A distant place along the river flows
while worlds of wonders in the sky begin.
I wonder what she sees
whilst staring at the blankness
of the middle distance, a space
of starless nights, streaks of shadows
cutting across her weightless sight.
This is her death, the way she dies,
yet somewhere in that broken mind
she breathes a restless sigh.
I wonder at her choice,
preferring numbness over life.
Her healing burns,
she feels the pain it gives.
If she knew what I knew,
would she choose to live?