Leopard’s paws
white like scolecite stones
faceted to fingernails
to the death of the wild,
a resemblance to a beast,
a blaze of light,
and to the gods,
their hand in life and death;
feral blood, extinction,
a feeling of a dream
in crystal architect
reading the skylight,
gathering life in the leaves
during the summer months.
In the leaves
and illume from the shadows,
perpetuity like the sea
drowning and unraveling
across the eventide,
cried thus alone,
your eyes fade into anise red
eaten by the onyx ashes
of the sun;
silence I assail,
you are a mirror;
darkening laughter
slices in madness
in its claws to labor
intimately anew,
a lure to the dance
skirting mayhap
to a foliage autumn;
creations bevel innocence
a mother’s paws at best
raveling onto your fur,
detaching to the incite
meeting twilit hours,
eyes granting sleep;
the horizons strobe pink,
and for me, your eyes bleed;
your tongue weighs out
like you need water,
your jaw locks,
arms full without mercy,
there will be no mercy
on the lonely path;
and your mind is like a garden
of psychosis, undefined;
darkened oaths,
you once prowled the streets
taken alone
to the leaf
of laughter
a stillness that swallows
vanity unbridled
into near-death
before we found you;
I can imagine you
in defiance of loneliness,
the wind-flow, withering,
in darkness (I see you)
in darkness—eludes
the poppies
free from the wave
of the ocean;
a haunted suspect
that put your mind forgotten
to the pain,
and alive you were
like the echo of fate
in winter’s lakeside brush
that hoards path
of footfall, and we thought
to near death.
He lacks awareness,
rather swayed
to carved pupa insects
on the wall,
with eyes, betraying silence or sleep,
for he never really sleeps, I know;
he seeks asylum in ego,
himself a slip beyond
the shadows afar;
his oak bark eyes
sail the dark,
bombast his presence
to the booms of leaves,
and dark from all else
his eyes.
© 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
A/N: Dedicated to my orange cat (that I will lovingly refer to as orangie, though not his real name unfortunately) who is crazy but lovable. Wrote this as well from the inspiration of Words for the soul’s comment who wanted to see a blog post about that infamous orangie.
I hope you all enjoyed. Thank you for reading.
11 responses to “His eyes.”
Nice poem with so many interesting turns of phrase and fresh images.
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Thanks!
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Great poem! I loved the line about “prowling the streets.”
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Thanks!
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Wow – it is like a ballad – I read a story laced in beautiful words
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Thank you so much, my friend.
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You are welcome
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Wow! Blown away by this one, Lucy! And then to find out it was dedicated to orangie… just fantastic. 🧡
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Thank you so, so much. ❤️❤️
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‘Illume from the shadows, psychosis undefined’- wordsmithed! Inspired me so…Old Gold/From break fast through to sunset/ Our gilt flecked precious amber pet/Takes possession of our coverlet ./ What dark thoughts prowl and creep/To what feline fantasies does he leap/ As he lays his day away, fast asleep?
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Lovely piece! I am so glad mine could inspire.
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