FROM THE EYE OF THE WOLF
From the eye of the wolf, the world is lost,
Legions of busy-walkers with hearts frost,
Empty eyes, tooth steel cold, robotic souls,
Rose cheeks with pink skin of pigs, ragged clothes,
All these busy-walkers are breakfast, lunch,
Dinner to the wolf, his teeth pared to crunch,
Blood, muscle, and sinew to be chewed,
From the eye of the wolf, the world is stew.
THE WOLF AND THE STAR
The wolf looks upon the star,
Wondering what it is he can see,
The star is bright,
Towards an indefinite point, afar
A fire of a distant sun,
The wolf cannot comprehend,
But knows, this star,
Is won
The wolf follows the star,
Or the star follows the wolf,
We know not which,
Ne'er does the wolf care, at his bar
The wolf takes a bite of air,
And misses the star,
In his mind, the star is a node,
Of a map,
Of his hunting ground of teeth, flesh, blood, bones and snares
In his heart,
The star is sorcery,
A key to mystery or his end, trapped in a mare,
He knows not which, he only trusts the star,
With his Fate
THE TRIAL OF THE WARLOCK
It was said at trials of Men,
The Law allows the accused to say naught,
And plead nothing, even then,
But the Warlock was summoned,
In his defence, to propound that which falls in his ken
When called, he stood proud and swore his faith,
Not a yard the faithful old man gave,
The men of the Law condemned him,
And urged the court to apprehend him,
But the Warlock resisted the naifs
"Why do you blaspheme 'gainst the Lord?", the prosecutor harangued,
"I hold to the Old Faith, that which is true", put it the Warlock surely,
And as he said this he grew,
Scandalised, his interlocutor,
Screamed to the gaggle,
Who looked toward the Heavens, gripped their beads and swore,
To their monster, Babylon's Whore
An attempt at traditional English poetry using iambic pentameter throughout...
THE COB AND THE COCKEREL
The cob stalked around the hen house at dark,
For the cockerel, the chase was his lark,
The cob hissed, the cockerel nipped and squawked,
They met and clashed at the edge of the ford
The fox looked on, as did the hens, a fight,
For the fox, emerged from his den, a chance,
A bight, he sniffed and padded, and edged closer,
Still closer, and closer, but the hens frit
The cob and the cockerel oblivious,
They fought hard, wings flapping and beaks jabbing,
Honour at stake, the cockerel's head jutted,
Cob circles cock, aloof and muted now
Silence descends, the fox heaves a sigh, espies,
The cob looks yonder, sees blue and takes flight,
Into the beyond, leaving the cock and fox,
Standing and facing then turning back home
Yuletide
Yule, a carnival
Beauty in your cold absence
In death of season
The King Fish
The old man caught it
The fish of the year, a king
His life spent, blood mine
Typhoon
The villagers gaped
At the giant in their wake
Godly destruction
Love
The love of my kind
Is greatness, treasure to find
It is mine, by right
Japan
The sun rises, in red
Realm of emperors, yellow
People of the East
The Limerick-Writer
There once was a man who wrote limericks,
Who worked part-time making thin bricks,
When his rhymes wouldn't rhyme,
He lost track of time,
And decided in the end he was sick of it
The Saltie
There once was a saltie at the top of the North,
Who ventured out of the bush and went forth,
He had not gone far,
When he crossed a car,
And ended as a shoe leather part
The Astronaut From Wakefield
There once was a mad man from Wakefield,
Who thought he would live in a space-field,
He built himself a rocket,
But was soon out of pocket,
And went back to dreaming and forgot it
The Impecunious Lady
There once was a lady who needed cash,
She searched and searched and found nothing stashed,
She went to a shark,
Who told her, "Sorry, no ta",
So she sold her car at the mart
