In the American wilds there are kings and
queens of the timberlands,
their pups born into a fraternity of royalty.
Crystal blue eyes shudder the dawn in
thick forests and open tundra.
Native American spirits in the elements
in all seasons,
in harmony with the wolves’ songs,
gently flowing eternally in the streams.
Oh, to run, run with their brethren of the
freedoms,
hunters and their prey churning up the
snow.
In the wilderness twilight they howl in
unison,
a woodland concert of the untamed neath
the ochre copper moon,
their breath exhaled in a frosty mist.
Whatever you do, please don’t kill my
wolves,
they are the sons and daughters of
nature’s magnificence.
So many have been felled and my heart
can’t bear hearing the roaring of the
rifles anymore,
Oh God, no!
Please don’t pierce their bodies,
their souls,
please, please don’t kill my wolves!
If killing wasn’t a sin
I could finally win
I could stop living without disobeying God
Something that grows within me, it’s odd
If killing wasn’t a sin
I would slit my throat
Sending all the letters I wrote
Is there anyone who would mourn me ?
Will you, my dear ?
If killing wasn’t a sin
I would jump off a cliff
Right after one of our tiff
Just to make you regret
Just to make you fret and never forget
If killing wasn’t a sin
And I killed myself tonight
Will it be your plight ?
Will you realize that I was worth the fight ?
But killing is a sin
So I would never commit it
Despite everything, I’ll be nowhere in sight
Because your toxicity isn’t worth my time
The wild predator and the mild easy prey in fact,
Make a weird, uneasy complement of a wild act:
Only for hunger,wrath, sport, or pride in the main;
For food, power, possession or vanity is it slain ;
Yet the rage and chase yond the bound is thrust,
Where no true reason nor use seems fair and just
While one kills the other to live and breed it strain
Need finds no seizing urge to wipe out in disdain
Quests, expedition, and crusade with tall a claim
Haven't left behind a great,noble and ideal name
Death is the be all and end all of every existence
And in the cycle,to dust returns the subsistence !
I warned you over and over not to do it
your blatant disregard for someone else
it was never in my nature to lose my cool
you knew exactly what you were doing
wasting the clock pretending to help out
tried as I might you ignored my request
instantly you pushed me over the edge
only able to see the most violent of red
any ounce or rational thought obliterated
I warned you politely and loudly pleaded
all I wanted was to be able to do my job
loud, proud, and filled with arrogance
maybe table all of the passive-aggressive
I will always get up and defend myself
Notoriety led to my Netflix documentary
If you have to ruin me,
don't do it under kitchen lights
or in parked cars
or over phone calls filled with silence.
Take me somewhere the sky is endless.
Somewhere the stars
have been dying for years
without anyone noticing.
Let me look up at something ancient,
something that understands
how beautiful things can disappear.
And if this is the ending,
if I have to lose whatever version
of me still believes in forever,
then let it happen there.
Because I think
I'd rather break apart
Beneath constellations
Than inside another room that forgets
The guiles of spiders are designed to fetch
Life-support prey seldom of an own kind.
If wild cats hunt, it’s only food to find--
What ye call beasts, in heart hate never hatch,
Nor in hostility the hunted catch
And only kill to fill a hungry maw
In a highly held un-writ wildlife law:
Slay to survive or get slain if no match,
Knowing not else but do just as designed,
Unlike O men hunting’s thy pass-time game,
A trophy wall-mounted in flashy frame,
Purblind, heedless, ye alone hunt own kind
Thus, crowning thee as lord of death in shame
Ye write a tale of thy blood-be-soaked name.
______________________________
Musings | 08.11.2012/revised July 2026 | beast, kill, joy, men, wild, Sonnet
Note: And I am tempted to add two more sonnet endings:
To call it sport that goes to fetch thy end
In slaying lives on whom thine own depend.
Till one day Earth twirls inverted thy claim,
And he who thought him hunter turneth game.
We have many functions in our body
some helpful, and others are not so
but there's one that sticks out more
even from an early age, it loves to say no
The tongue has the power for good or bad
its tendency is to be bad from its heart
but good can come with the spirit's work
godly marks then are seen in no small part
Scripture tells us about the tongue's poison
with this, it brings evil upon all in its ways
without the spirit's effect ot falls down deep
its language shows evil intent all the day
It's an awful thing considering its power
bringing fear and anxiety upon its prey
we need God's authority to bring it down
which brings us to our knees to pray
Remember, in the tongue is true fruit
that which fully satisfies every thirst
so love this tongue to full effect
then the evil poison will be burst
("Death and life are in the power of the tongue,
and those who love it will eat its fruits.")
Proverbs 18: 21 (ESV)
Passover ends in two more days
to my shouts of Hip, Hip, Hooray
One more day of matzo might not kill me
but if this be freedom, give me bread ~ and slavery
Thirsty kids drinking from water hose
revenge in a pill
gossip needs skill
conversations kill
from a deceitful shill
her hateful thrill
conversations kill
reputations to fill
lies spin in a mill
conversations kill
Loaded up with fats and starches
Underneath the golden arches
I don’t know where I don’t know when
But Ronald McDonald will kill again.
Fooling all the girls and boys
With crappy little plastic toys
I don’t know where I don’t know when
But Ronald McDonald will kill again.
Even the Amazon gets no relief
From his desire for more cheap beef
I don’t know where I don’t know when
But Ronald McDonald will kill again.
Corporate greed cannot be abated
For far too long we’ve bloody waited
I don’t know where I don’t know when
But Ronald McDonald will kill again.
So save your kids from tooth decay
And listen to what I have to say
Don’t even eat there now and then
Or Ronald McDonald will kill again.
You first catch me firm by the throat
And then tell me to sing,
Complain still, why I sing like goat.
A voice to sing, to fly as wing.
Ye often plant dream in my mind
Amidst storm waves to swim,
From the shore tempt me from behind
To destroy very dream.
Or when I struggle mid-sea there
Hard put to keep afloat,
You pose as if you so much care,
But make me wait for rescue boat.
And whenever there’s happy time--
Fleeting moments of joy,
You come, commit an awful crime
To kill all my uplifting buoy.
At times when I shed painful tears
Of frustration, kill-joy Fate,
I fail to recall all these years
You ever kept destiny’s date.
___________________________
Reminiscing | 11.02.2026 | boat, dream, fate, joy, remember, sea, quatrain
There never was me untamed,
pushed to the limits without these gates,
i am nobody with you, but i have the world,
as if it leaked out of my ears into my mouth
i can taste it the troubled fires in love with dust,
control and greed in love with power and selfishness,
we don't want this we are the seed lets breed,
let the whole world see innocence is free,
injustice knows the belief system is ill,
poisoned with will of unwilling to sacrifice,
all that we have we earned than taken all away
over night streets and cities filled with pain,
memories flood all the gutters of houses
that kill all that is evil in my back yard
poured into the soil remember when,
one key, one door, one secret, one home.
I'm sorry, I just can't (T)ake it anymo(r)e.
Everything h(u)rts, (m)y life is falling a(p)art.
I should have (k)nown (i) would mess it a(ll) up from the (s)tart.
I'm (c)limbing to t(h)e roof and f(i)xing this.
My (l)ife is worthless.
I'm a (d)isappointment to my pa(ren)ts.
goodbye forever.
What doesn’t kill you
Makes you wish you were dead
I try to live in the moment
But there’s these thoughts in my head
What doesn’t strangle you
Makes you wish you didn’t breathe instead
What doesn’t hurt you
Makes you want to hurt yourself instead
What they don’t see
Is in your head
(They say) You’re going crazy
What you don’t say stays unsaid
If they don’t believe it
It can’t be true
‘cause they are the standard
That everything must go through
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