Yellow Moons (a poem)

be careful, son

don’t delve into

too much mystery

it’ll consume you

pray to yellow moons

inky-black skies

howling wolves

green wilderness

cycles of rebirth

summer turns to autumn

the land sustains us

be careful, son

& brave

(Photo by Izabelle Acheson on Unsplash)

Dreamland (a poem)

just before slumber

there’s a moment between

dream & wakefulness

a hazy realm

eyes closed

your smelly dog

at the foot of the bed, growling

the moment happens

in milliseconds

you fall into dreamland

shifting sands

awake to sunlight

peering through heavy curtains

a new day – but

are you still in dream?

this whole thing may not

be what it seems

(Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash)

Valley of Shadows (a poem)

He traversed the valley for days

seeking the ancient one who’d provide

nourishment to his ailing soul

words from a holy mouth that

would unlock secrets of his inner-being –

sloshing through thick mud, the traveler perceives him

through the fog –

the figure of the ancient man

glowing, golden in the valley of shadows.

(Photo by John Joumaa on Unsplash)

The High Priest of Saturn (a poem)

The Hight Priest of Saturn tends to his parish –

you didn’t expect to find him here

hidden in this Rust Belt town

a town eager for rebirth

a town that’s lost its youth

who’ve fled the flaking steel mills that die

on the banks of the purple river –

The High Priest of Saturn expects a successor

someone to continue the cleansing

the vicarious pleasure of standing

before Saturn, our merciful Maker.

(Photo from sciencenewsforstudents.org)

Note: This poem was inspired by High Priest of Saturn, a musical group self-described as in the psychedelic doom genre. I’ve been listening to more groups like them lately, so I guess the cool band name was caught in my head!

The Poet’s Curse (a prose poem)

You humiliated the Netherworld Poet + now you must pay – the only way to avoid his curse is to sacrifice your first-born son. The Poet cackles like a hyena on arid plains of this sun-soaked frontier – you dared question his knowledge of tribe + kingdom that’s your birthright to lead.

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Soul Snatcher

The soul-snatcher glared at me from the dusty street corner with fiery orange eyes, his hands cupped over his mouth because of the early morning cold.

I had been out late that night, and I was returning home a little tipsy.

“Hello there,” he said. “Looking for your fix?”

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