For Suzette’s: Light or Shadow contest
“when you are not fed love on a silver spoon, you learn to lick it off knives”
Lauren Eden – The Lioness Awakens
Shadows
the bear chases you around the pomegranate tree
your fear reaching extreme heights
you seize the suitable moment to escape
a fleeting flash of relief
only for the bear to corner you once more
the odour of its pelage hits your nostrils
its paws are ferociously slashing at your body
you are pinned helplessly waiting for the mortal blow
somehow, screams distract the bear
as if satisfied, it walks away, for now
you are scarred for life
you go about your life looking over your shoulder
each shadow is now a bear
each minute noise transmits fear
nobody can protect you from this nightmare
you terribly crave love and search for it everywhere
locking yourself away is simply futile
you must venture out
you owe it to yourself to take risks in life
or in love
Categories:
pelage, abuse, analogy, life, love,
Form: Suzette Prime
A lone wolf yowls lachrymose,
At a lowly weeping full moon,
A hyperborean chill blows,
To quake the trees snow-clad festoon.
Reverent icy waters stand still,
Solid as old placid cold stone,
And crystallize its surface frill,
Webbing fractures as cracking bone.
The moonlight shimmers lupine pelage,
Luminous white, silver, and grey,
Scintillating eyes peer a ledge,
To skulk the skirted night away.
A carmen matricale of night,
In some strange darkened equipoise,
Vapored vacuous of breath and bite,
Winter bares its fanged alveolus.
The ethereal moon looked on,
With frigid distant nocturn eyes,
When soon bedims her view by dawn,
The wolf muffles in subdued cries.
Snow blankets the barren land white,
A place time seems to have forgot,
Away with the sounds of the night,
And the melancholy it brought.
Categories:
pelage, animal, howl, image, metaphor,
Form: Rhyme
I am a man of two faces
One face for the eyes of the world
The other face for when I close the door
Behind this door, you don't want to see
the face that cowers behind this door
A face which reveals itself in the sullen,
Cimmerian shadows
Most people will not accept this face
Most people will prefer if the mask
I wear for the eyes of the world
remain glued onto myself so tightly
that it will hardly slip
That when I hide behind my door
at the end of the day, the mask
becomes painful to peel
Like removing duct tape off fur
Strands of beastly pelage
ripped out of my fragile, mortal skin
and become a part the face
I struggle so hard to keep on
in the hours of the Sun
I lose a bit of myself and
question my morality
The constant switch between
these two faces grow tedious
and exhausting
I even start to ask myself,
"why?"
An infinite, internal war
plagues me and I lose my mind
Why must the world be so hedonic
and blind?
The truth is, they are not blind
They all wear masks too
And at the end of the day,
when their doors are shut and the
curtains have closed,
The masks slip and a burdening
sigh of relief is released.
Categories:
pelage, humanity, life, truth,
Form: Free verse