A Wolf's LullabyA Wolf's Lullaby10 years ago in Free Verse
Looking through my opened window
Unable to sleep at all
I hear a wolf's cry
Full of sadness and pain
At the sound of it I start to cry
Running into the forest with only my pjs
I follow the trails of wolves
Looking for wounded soul that cried
Finding the wounded animal
Knowing it's about to die
I get on my knees and craddle it's head
Singing a wolf's lullaby
Several years later unable to sleep again
I hear the sound of wolves crying
Full of happiness and rejoice
I fall asleep at the sound of a wolf's lullaby
Five's a CrowdA Saskatoon year is not symmetrical:Five's a Crowd6 years ago in Free Verse
it has five seasons
stumbling into one another
toasting timeless acquaintance
is grey and tan
a folded old woman
a stalk of straw in her gravel teeth.
Limping, smiling and wet
from between Winters supermodel thighs
she stains white legs
damp cigarette butts and chokecherries
knotted in her grove of hair.
Yet we smile
we only feel
her forehead warmth
her wrinkle-dust like talc
she unbends her back
to reach behind us
and breaks the hour-hand
suggests she stay.
Her cracked lips like sidewalks
crusted folds of her face
cold fingers up our backs
are nothing like Spring
All Our FaultWe swallowed fireflies,All Our Fault6 years ago in Free Verse
watched them become
red esophagus lights
on the way down.
We pulled off wings of fairies
and cut them into tiny
We blew up
the stars, the moon
and then, and then
There was no longer
enough light to guide us
in the night.
The Lone WolfThe Lone wolfThe Lone Wolf9 years ago in Free Verse
He bounds through the forest
Searching for companionship
Moonlight glinting in his eyes
Howling with the anger in his heart
A lone vagabond
Wandering the world alone
Glaring at the hateful stars
Howling at the laughing moon
Stops and listens
The souls of those past
Join him in his search
Forever guiding him
Never leaving his side
In summer we all burnThe summer is coming,In summer we all burn4 years ago in Free Verse
I hear the beach roaring from here,
can see shirts hung over shoulders,
sunglasses, arms round waists,
can feel the earth's purrs,
pollens tossed up at us in fanfare.
Ants are walking over me
because we're sharing a tree together.
Back to back, we're trying to
make our winter's pallour a warmer shade.
Is it some sort of personal sign
when you let your shoe-tongues fill with tan bark,
when it's driven you mad your whole life?
Or when you eat ice-cream in public (the sticky
fingers a mere afterthought)?
These trees though, they're not changing.
I can't help thinking they're
often doing better than we are.
Summer is coming; they sit still and burn.
Some go out with a bang!
Others fall to dust.
But us, we fuss and flail.
Still we burn.
Summer is for beaches and getting laid.
Summer is for stretching,
for sticking your proboscis into
the rivers and guzzling.
No, I can't help thinking about
the skeletons at the waterholes in the Mallee.
Sorry I was born a PitbullDear owner please don't hurt meSorry I was born a Pitbull9 years ago in Free Verse
I truly didnt know
that chewing shoes and licking your face made me dangerous
I'm sorry I was born with a jaw that is so fierce
and then the BSL came and said that we are all
doomed, for something SOME pitbulls might do.
And some things I NEVER did.
I'm sorry my mom was a pitbull, and I'm sorry dad was too.
but if you ban my breed now, who will be there to protect you?
There won't be any rotties, or bulls of any kind
regular dogs not brave the dogs who cry and whine
Please help fight the BSL for they're blaming my whole breed
as well as other bulls and rotties who have even helped people.
animals that were strong and were bred for loyalty
now at the vet in the euthanasia line.
Its not fair that they condemn me for things I never did
but we're capable of doing such things, is what the government says
they don't care if we're loved
they rip us away from our last hugs.
With the owners that loved us dearly
It's not right that they have to suff
The swanThe swan5 years ago in Free Verse
A love swan heart
forming in a shallow
river water an
See it glide in the
moonlight with an
armful of white
across the stream.
.dead flies scatter.2 years ago in Free Verse
the windowsill, their
bodies shrivelled and
dried by the sun
i mourn the spider,
hung with his own web
the seed greeted the asphalt -the seed greeted the asphalt with surprisethe seed greeted the asphalt -8 years ago in Free Verse
, said it was set upon by early morning winds,
that they came from under the bridge by the bay,
rose up and turned like a freight train down the street;
ignoring the stop sign completely, causing an early commuter
to lean into it, squinting. discoloured leaves
rushed to fill its absence, falling over each other,
it said the heavy mass of pure air hit with such momentum
as to shake it off deliberately, making it a helpless
and unwilling hitchhiker for some 20 metres.
crow comes courtingresplendent in a black glosscrow comes courting5 years ago in Free Verse
of feathered robes...
crow's morning clicks of courtship
echo through downcast mists that
bead upon bowed shoreline willows
and genuflect in the wake
of his purposeful strut
one hesitant step before the next,
his head cocked this way and that,
listening as distant ticks
message back a reply-
the visage of his agenda
suddenly unfolds in a wingspread
that lifts above a watery canvas,
the guttural sound of pulled
stitching sends love notes receding
into estuaries, and ripples
where tadpoles skip and dart
beneath lily pads in the random and
rapid blink of each tiny vortex
For a Crow on a Telephone Wirebeing black is oppressive,For a Crow on a Telephone Wire12 years ago in Free Verse
ballast in a body that should not
sit so elegantly on a flimsy wire.
lines should tense or bend
beneath your weight, but you have bones
formed of wind
and ride on things less dense.
Little old lightbulbLittle old lightbulb,Little old lightbulb9 years ago in Free Verse
all burnt out?
A twist at the neck
A twist at the neck
eliminates doubt -
little old lightbulb?
All burnt out.
AutismAutism.Autism7 years ago in Free Verse
My definitions for this word are:
Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD)
Attention Defesit Disorder (ADD)
I am cursed with autism.
I am confused whether my thinking is normal or not.
I am the only one.
I see teens with incredible thinking power.
I see science everywhere.
I see sin.
My mind carries no common sense.
My mind can never come up with the right words for me to say.
My mind is imperfect.
I repeat real life events I see over and over in my head.
I concentrate on hatred passed to me from other people.
I have incredible issues.
There are people whom I see have flaws in their learning.
There is a brain tumor collaborating with my brain.
There is no cure for Autism.
This disorder scars my personality.
This disorder keeps me away from being a white sheep.
This disorder is my host.
Associated with selective hearing.
Associated with an incontrollable temper.
goldthe surface ripples.gold4 years ago in Free Verse
you are the sun and alone,
the radiance of a halo not Luna,
whose visage is pale
as bone, whose flesh is cartilage.
peel the wallpaper away,
as grayscale as my touch silver
fades to sparks of ash.
a mist dissolves
to day. and you linger so transient
layer to layer, the clouds set as sheets
on an expanse of skin. tremble:
sea and sky
converge only to exhale
as they expand,
once. atmospheric pressure builds
where stars fall to water.
RunawayRunaway4 years ago in Free Verse
Sunlight and shadows
wink and wave
as you loosen your
grip upon her hand,
fingers slipping to tips
to a memory
to an ever increasing
thin sliver of air;
cool air and space
without a kiss goodbye
or backwards glance,
amid the cool golden wood
a place where
low in the sky,
spu t t er
glistening graceful raindrops
beyond the heavy veil.
from crimson and orange reflections,
onto the multicolored carpet below.
nature cries her tears upon
summers lush verdant
of weeks gone by.
away she goes,
lost to the forest
feet balanced upon
SnowMonths grouped together like careless footstepsSnow8 years ago in Free Verse
stroll upon the lashings accorded to me by the sun.
In January I am caressed by ghosts
or something as cold and invisible.
They intrude upon hair, clothes; books
dampen with monstrous hand prints.
Are these shells of half-dead creatures
holding themselves, ancient in a cavern somewhere
or tethered to the earth by thought?
Bits of cloud, the flesh of heaven
picked off like a soft disease
nestle on my shoulder as if pulled from my sweater.
they emerge quietly like droplets of blood. Whisper:
we are the teeth of ancient things.
White drift presses upon the house
and the window. Its cool breath scales
my chin, pries open my mouth like a tenacious lover,
and settles with a small sigh on the tongue
like a hiss of steam.
We have made and unmade warmth.
summer childHe can't remembersummer child1 year ago in Free Verse
where he left his sunshine
but somewhere between the
watermelon smiles and
it had disappeared.
He's hunting for it,
nose to the ground like
the dog he is,
yet his full-moon eyes are
wider than ever before
and they still can't see
past the cool, dry breeze.
The barren trees
around him quiver,
tremble in the night
like his peach-blossom lips,
still the tears -
floodwaters only just
contained in the failing light -
are not forthcoming.
It won't be long before he
fills his weed-tangled lungs
with harvest winds
and cries out to Mother Earth,
mourning the dandelion wine
that sours on his tongue.
ElementsFire, burning with untamed rage,Elements9 years ago in Free Verse
Destroying both fool and sage,
Trapping you in flaming cage,
Killing all in the age,
Uncontrolled by any mage.
Water, gently heal,
Away agony does it peel,
Pain and misery away seal,
Flowing in the shimmering teal,
Causing all joy to feel.
Air, sweet peaceful bliss
Blowing with soft kiss,
Calm heart tis,
No more reason for hiss,
Vanishes, an is miss.
Earth, from which all are born,
Under light of might and morn,
Growing treasures are adorn,
Though like all mothers, is worn,
For by all, it is torn.
Ice, the heart take fright,
Stealing all once right,
Friend to villainous spite,
Bring forth panic to new height,
Taking hope from sight.
Lightning, holder of power,
Striking in a hour,
Above the rest tower,
Even metal cower,
Souls turn sour.
Elements, balance all,
Heeding only nature's call,
Making others so small,
At creation does maul,
But keep us from a fall.
There Was a Storm TodayThere Was a Storm Today3 years ago in Free Verse
The palms of rain and soil applauded as they met,
twisting their fingers to knot a streaming brook.
Lightning followed, pounding its fists against the smoking sky,
While gusts of wind erupted; raindrop fireworks.
Mist began to swirl above the steaming pavement-
(reminding me of those winters by the lake so long ago.)
The puddles chased the passing storm to clear
the dusted streets and wash the trees of poor habits.
Again the lightning flickered, like a dying silver bulb
swinging by a string in some attic from the past.
The storm exhales once more to retract its mighty arms.
And so the afternoon awaits the sun to press her fingers through the clouds
So the birds can fly again.
Horses, HorsesHorses, Horses10 years ago in Free Verse
Through the window in my mind
as I watch from behind my closing eyes
with the joys of happiness dripping through my veins
I see charging violently,
With their eyes full on fire.
I see horses.
Brilliant bright lights blinding.
Horses, horses blinding me softly.
emitting from their shining bodies
and rhythm sounding powerfully
from large elegant hooves.
Bright, shining light
from their glowing silver bodies.
from brilliant black outlines.
Freedom ebbing from pulsing veins
reverting back toward my gaze
feelings of wonder.
bright and shining,
free and wild.
They gallop from within my weak grip
And disappear as I awaken my eyes
To view their full, great beauty.
But they have gone.
They have flown.
Stretching out powerful strides
running from this mist,
that surrounds me.
They have gone.
Left me alone.
They were horses, horses
Free before my eyes.
On fire with beauty
Mabonthere are dead leavesMabon3 years ago in Free Verse
sprouting from her amber spine,
reaching with child-fingers
to devour the sun.
her skin is freezing,
seeping winter through
the whiskey tongues
of godless boys
wish to decipher
the atlas of her thighs.
counting the sleepy fireflies
alight in her lungs- there is
wanderlust churning & warming
her frostbitten heartstrings.
swinging pendulum hips,
"I am the tease of autumn flames.
I breathe in mint sunsets,
& gasoline dreams."
AndromedaAmongst the darkened skiesAndromeda1 year ago in Free Verse
Brightened by only starlight
Field & Sea.
Gravity is only an afterthought
Hilltops become ladders into the sky while
Inferior planets stare down upon the Earth
Jealous of such simplicity yet contemplating grandeur.
Keppler only thought of science
Linear, elliptical, movement…
Mythology had no such thoughts
Neptune & Nebulas both inhabit space
Orbiting across the lonely darkness
Probably never worried about mundane things
Questioning their existence
Right now or for all eternity such as us.
Shooting stars make us joyful while
Terminator is an otherworldly spectacle
Unknown to all those hidden in their houses
Various stars await us outside
Waiting to play like we did before
Xenagogue & inviting
Youthful but ancient curiosities.
Zenith induced euphoria continues until daylight…
Nature GamesThe ocean's crying,Nature Games2 years ago in Free Verse
Dripping droplets of cunning salt.
The impatient wind wails endlessly,
Yet the water's depressed thrashings don't halt.
The land stays solemnly still and stands
Courageously tall without shedding a tear of agony.
Even the shy breeze whispers,
To the gentle giant trees of the soil's bravery.
The overwhelming ocean leaves sad tiny marks
Of shells from its aggressive harsh beatings.
The lands bleed boastful
Sand as the beach's greetings.
The wild petunias and daffodils pose
As the audience to the frames,
Hence, the fauna sing and cheer
To these nature games.