Don't Prey On Me
That's the testament has carved
Out of Survivial.
The gospel one wrote in the margins
When the official one didn't protect one.
Because some connections don't come
With claws showing-
They come with candles illuminated, voices
Soft. Hands folded like innocence, But their
Shade tell the truth.
They crowd you in the name of concern,
Move gently in the name of sainthood, watch
In the name of discernment.
But every routine has a hunger in it.
Every blessing has a take a chunk of and I've
Learned to listen not to the interchange but
To the breathing behind them-
I rise without Witnesses
I heal without Consultants
I don't walk with Fear
Don't Prey on me-
Because One has finally learned that survival
Is a scripture also.
There Is Always
Safety In Numbers!
When You Live
Like
PREY.
Lock And Key.
Stay In Order.
Dismissed.
-Gray Squirrel
08-11-2026
HAIL TO NEEDLES OF PREY
They had
Hand-set
The trap
To lure
And capture
Freed nocturnal
Prey–
A prized
Catch
For the
Oppressive
Stew pot–
However,
In liberating
Darkness,
They blindly
Reached
In
And tightly
Grabed
A porcupine!
Pray-tell,
Our prey
Llives
Will likewise
Become
Sharp,
Liberating
Ones:-
Jake you were an alley cat,
Beautiful and tabby as you strutted by,
Your fur so velvety soft to the touch,
But you didn't like that petting, well not to much,
Things always on your terms, the poor butterflies were your favorite prey,
As you hid amongst the tall green ferns, your tail would twitch going to and fro,
Then you would leap fast and high like a well aimed arrow,
But your gone now and I miss your grace,
And seeing your golden eyes shining in your tabby face.
searching yellow eyes
fast, agile, hunts by surprise ~
elite sparrowhawk
this bird hunter waits
it pounces, pigeon's death knell ~
nature is brutal
He dwelled in depths I dared not enter
Satan the landlord; he the renter
He packed his things but left behind
a lidded box he hoped I'd find.
It was not of the Pandora kind.
Curious as to what he'd put inside...
Yes, I was inquisitive enough
to know if its contents had the power
to devour me whole or leave me sour
over the promises he didn't keep...
the vows he broke that made we weep.
He'd stolen my heart and I wanted it back
I the prey, he the hunter.
Sunset descended behind willow trees
before it felt right to open the lid,
for in darkness, he'd left me in sorrow,
grimly haunted by the memories of him.
In stygian shadows is where he often hid.
How fitting the hour of midnight appealed
to me to unseal the box, its cover to lift.
Therein I found his silver wedding band
and felt I should thank him for this final gift.
In the box of dreaded darkness, I found light.
A gift I understood as I held it in my hand.
He the giver, I the receiver.
My cat Mimi, cunning and so wise,
Will wait quiet, then bounce by surprise
Make a rat its prey
Hold it in its sway
With it to play in triumphant guise.
What lurks in the shadows?
Creepy predators waiting for their unsuspecting prey.
Best to lock our doors.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
For air, this lightning sped
And this sharp too
Outlines what, so outspread
A storm-fierce view.
he stalked his prey
stealthily and steadily
keeping himself not in the shadows
right out in front
because people are used to seeing him
so much that he is invisible
he has the catbird seat
the opportunity, the initiative
and the wherewithal
a serial killer
no one suspects
“Hi Dad,” I say.
He waves.
The three-quarter angled moon -
like a monstrous, baleful, cataracted eye -
blindly searched the dark beneath
where death was heard in a cut off cry -
nothing else but a rustle in the undergrowth;
a struggle to breathe between two jaws.
Something kicked twice and then was still;
an unseen end in teeth and claws.
I froze to hear both a victory and tragedy;
for something was fed and something died;
and somewhere the babes in a den would be full;
and somewhere the babes in a nest be denied.
The moon will not always look down at creation
cursed to this time of predator and prey.
The lion and lamb will lie down together
because even death will die one day.
the
ubiquitous
reflective
eyes
scanning
throughout
the
Serengeti Plains
of
the
wild spotted
hyena
laughing
giggling
chuckling
while
feasting
and
crushing
the
bones
of
the
daunted
prey
Snowflakes steadily fall down, down
White coats all the cold ground
As winter displays its beauty
All is quiet, no sound
This side of dreariness my duty
How long will this grief stay
The sun is out now can I heal
Will I linger as grief's prey
By an ancient palace
knaves and jesters
peddle gilded notes
for dark favours
with docile dames
in the shadow light
of a silvan clearing
deep beyond mortal gazing
amid the frosted gaiety
of wintertide sparkle.
Still Waters Run Deep
Still,
Eyes never sleep-
Tranquility hides the calm's breath,
Where peace hums low,wisdom is loud
Watch me.
When the lion sleeps
Dreams hunt-
In quiet grass,
The prey dares to wander,
Forgetting dawn will wake the king-
Too late.
Even the Ant Knows Hunger
Soft feet,
Carry the world,
No rest till the fest starts-
Tiny thinkers teaching the proud
To work.
Mother Tongue
Speak soft,
old river voice.
Words like stone in my mouth-
rolling,remembering,washing
me home.
A Broken Calabash Still Holds Rain
Old pots,
Patched with mercy,
Still pour water like mothers-
not perfect,
but still giving love
that lasts
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