~Quodlibet (LIII-LVI)~

By WordWulf, 20th Apr 2011 | Follow this author | RSS Feed | Short URL http://nut.bz/270l.anu/
Posted in Wikinut>Writing>Poetry

~ least dangerous are beasts ~ whose eyes from forests watching ~ reflections of death root ~ towering glass edifices ~ where true beasts roam ~ smooth skin & affected scents ~ east to follow ~ difficult to understand ~ eyes full of lies ~ a bent toward immolation ~ ignorant & suicidal ~

~Preaching & Preying~
~LIII. Wolf Life~
~LIV. Storm Breaking~
~LV. Breeding & Breathing~
~LVI. Reptilian Appetites~

~Preaching & Preying~

~Quodlibet~

I used to spend evenings in a place I named The Thin Woods. Coal Creek was a thin ribbon struggling through it. I’d go down there after work and roam around some. Before dark I’d seek a tree to lean my back against, hopefully a clump of thick buffalo grass to cushion my butt. There was a citizen path adjacent to the creek where bicyclists, in-line skaters, and joggers expected each other and everyone else to get the hell out of the way. No problem for me. I chose the thickest part of the thin for my sit-me-down. Kinda creeped me out the first couple times I did it. The exercise crowd disappeared shortly before dark. That put a smile on my face until I heard something moving nearby, so nearby that it slithered ‘neath my jeans. Scared hell out of me, it did. I bit down on my fear, took a moment to reflect on the creatures I had spent the day with, customers and work associates, the lady preacher I was married to at the time. The moon reflected off the back of a snapping turtle lumbering up the bank of the creek. I heard a mysterious sound, was aware it was feather and wind before I saw the owl, wings spread wider than the creek, following its path, gliding through moonlight, preying for a meal. Well, I was amongst my own, away from preachers and spandex commandos. Let them feed the homeless and leave me the hell alone.

~LIII. Wolf Life~

Still eyes, almond shapes
poring over the landscape
seeking movement, elusive dart of prey
awareness born and borne
carried in a blood rush of future
drawn upon the backs of centuries past
paths worn deeper than tree root
beneath glass buildings tall
the ones inside know those eyes
hope to obliterate wolf life
whose eyes say we know who you are
were here before, see what you do
will be here still when you have perished

~LIV. Storm Breaking~

Got a black rose from a white lady
tears gone runnin’
there’s a storm a-comin’
the sound of thunder
deep when the lightning strikes
it fairly breaks the sky
I can still hear her crying
through the terrible night
as I reinforce the hollow
walls of my indifference
create the masque of a man
behind which the boy may hide

~LV. Breeding & Breathing~

When his eyes are right
all light, a violet hue
the crimson coursing of her blood teases
draws him to her skin
may invent paradise
a palace of leisure
learn to breathe underwater
breed with lacy finned fish people
kiss there, flowering tide
and suck on their eyes
piss red semen blood
fertilize them all in a roe
she spits on him
falls down crying

~LVI. Reptilian Appetites~

In the end, he came to cave
with a creature most strange to him
he observed her with offspring
wasting away afternoons’ eve
nights spent in languorous mood
she read to them in voices
fed them bits of meat and pastry
cold cereal in milk bowls
he licked his lips to slay them
but loved her anyway
waited until they went to sleep
then crawled into her room
and fed her his snake

~Tom (WordWulf) Sterner~
~The Moth/A Sign~
~Woman As Wing~
~Howling Dog Press/Omega~
~Quodlibet (XLIX-LII)~

Meet the author

WordWulf
Tom Sterner lives in Redding, California and Arvada, Colorado with wife Kathy. He has been published in numerous magazines and on the internet, including Howling Dog Press/Omega, Skyline Literary Review, The Storyteller, and Flashquake. His interne...(more)