Told no lies.

They were meant to scare,

Not meant to care.

In the dim light,

It waited for the night.

The most important night of all,

Where there it would stand tall.

So it sat all day,

All night it would stay,

Until it was time,

To stand strong and shine.

 

It must do its duty,

To not do the beauty,

To frighten to the core,

This was its chore.

Its pointed teeth fixed in a frown.

Its eyes slightly pointed down.

Emanating a light,

So powerfully bright.
 

Because when night came,

With a mighty flame,

That no wind could ever blow,

To remove the eerie glow.

You could call it Jack

Or just The Lantern
It rid the night of black

This Jack-o-lantern

Heartbeat

I remember the very day she died, 

It was a bright day, in my mind.

Till darkness covered the sun shining above, 

Alas no one would now know her love. 

She was a fragile dainty thing,

With bright blue eyes and a desire to sing. 

Her hair coal black,

And her lips rose red,      

We never knew, so soon she would be dead. 

The only thing to make her smile,

Was me,of course for a while. 

Then she slipped out of my grasp,

With one heartbeat,

Her very last...

Only if I had reached out in time,

Maybe she wouldn’t have slipped out like slime,

The body glue couldn’t hold her together,

Because, the cancer wasn’t getting any better. 

The moment drew a line in time,

One second she was within reach,

And then...she was gone. 

 

One night when the moon was high,

A thin sliver in the night sky,

From my room I heard a rapping,

From our front door. 

I hid under my covers,

Having a hunch that it was a monster,

A monster coming for me.

I barged in my parents room,

Where I knew I would be safe,

From a monster at our front door,

Could he escape?

I snuggled against my mom,

Who’s skin was as soft as silk,

And as warm as the fire,

I squeezed her tighter,

And hid under the covers. 

But then again,

I heard rapping,

Rapping,

On our front door. 

I knew my fear would only be satisfied when I answered the rapping on our front door.

Only,

If 

Only.

I had the courage.

But I didn’t

So every night it came back,

Rapping, Rapping on our 

Front door.

Perched on top of a mighty ledge, looking down below.

A wise toad sat, making quite a show.

Next to a pond he sat in deep thought,

Staring into the water a lot.

He thought and thought until he could no more.

He got up, and walked around the lakeshore.

His arms crossed behind his back.

He did laps, looking like a maniac.

But no, he was quite sane indeed.

Those in the village had agreed.

He was the smartest, wisest of them all.

Without his thoughts, the village would fall.

One day, next to this reflective pond,

The toad stood up and waved his hand like a wand,

There was a dramatic lengthy pause,

As if waiting for someone’s applause.

“That's it!” He exclaimed!

He leapt up in down in uncontrolled joy.

He was so happy, no;  he wasn’t ashamed.

He looked like a kid that received a new toy.

A fox who had been watching the whole time,

He got into the party and started to chime.

“That's it!” The fox yelled, not knowing why.

But it didn’t matter, for the toad knew why.

The fox gave out a joyful cry.

And others approached, to give it a try.

“That's it!” Called the owl, who had happened to come by.

All three cheered, though they didn’t know why.

Only the wise toad, who would almost never say,

But they cheered and partied anyway.

The whole village was soon cheering.

More and more animals just kept appearing.

Everyone impatiently waited for why

The toad had been so happy; they awaited his reply.

He said, in a calm, steady voice.

That he would give them a choice:

Whether they hear his reason now,

Or he save it and they discover it themselves somehow.

They decided it was better to hear

It now, loud and clear.

Then and there did the toad confess.

As he did, there arose a deafening gust of wind.

I couldn’t hear a sound, could only merely guess.

Others were immersed in the deep revelation.

The wind blew so loud, I couldn’t hear the narration.

Finally the wind stopped and the toad concluded.

“That’s it”

They were all stupefied; all speechless then.

It was his idea they adored.

Then they cheered, whistled, and roared.

Again and again and again.

Do you give away the gold in your hands, which glare with light?

Or do you curl it in your hands and slithe away from sight?

I treasure the fluoresce like a junkie.

I cannot bear for them to seize my dragon’s cravings like a funky.

The inferno is scalding and dissolving my heart.

But nobody wishes to trouble themselves to liberate my bleeding art.

And who covets the avarice of a dragon in the cave and sorrow and vain?

The knight who buries the throne in dragon’s entrails for the mark of sain.

A City of Light;

A Thousands Years in Sight.

May you have Sweet Dreams Tonight.

With orbs of a malachite glow.

With legs so long and strong.

With tail, short and fierce.

Of claws and fur.

Of night and day.

A lone hunter of the night.

Do you stalk tonight, dear Caracal?

Of no earth or lake.

She raises her scorching wings,

To burn the sky in her wake.

And fall to a shadow once so light.

They slithe in.

Where is our hope in night?

And when there is none left,

She rises from flames.

There is no fear or pain.

The Sun shines once more.

While the others are rats and snacks, ready for my claws and teeth.

A great fox through my fangs that I feel for any but my favorite number one.

Ennui at every twist or turn I cannot concern.

But their dolor is my gelid desire.

I cannot keep the fire at bay.

Their ghosts will give for standing in my way.

And my castle will be paved in gold.

Commitment is a song too old.

I live in a hollow tree.

There is nothing in it, and there never will be.

If only the table made the feast good.

Turkey here, quail there, the world... birds for days.

One nation it’s yams, another it is

                                                                        Fest

                                                                   ive Ling

                                                                  gonberrie

                                                                         S

 

The running pilgrims came with their far-east

silks. Created by worms, the worms made by worms.

                                                                                          

The spiced cider, the                                             silk like clockwork. 

wine, the milk..it spins,                                          Whirls... The fork, the knife, no

            Like the worms, spinning                                       spoon? Aren’t we round,

            

not-too severed--arms are found, Uncle tom 
 calls down. “Capital Defence Protocol” 

he gobbles, the waddlers of total tie em’ down.

 

Meanwhile on the table, seems like plymouth

has landed. On rocks of corn, cranberry,

gravy and bread. The workers the forgot, 

royals are all, so they don’t have to shove 

food to those that don’t call.

 

The giving wasn’t complete, not one kin 

yet. The people had to come, to not feast.

But they called still, and more came. The food was

a better eat.

One family,

but two families,

a community,

a Brobdingnagian!

 

And when the turkeys came, they were not to

blame, the man that stank, was the man hunting 

their shank! So the pilgrims and turkeys they 

sat, with the silk and feathers,(and was de-

stressed, with the Dyson vats.) Playing cards, games..

 

The turkey, who was really a man, good

sake they didn’t eat with their fancy spoons, 

sat there. Tied, an apple in his mouth, his ‘

pedestal a plate, being clumped: crying 

To end the blaze of day.

It’s ascending by ring of night,

Someplace stones alay.
-Sooki

Frisking through the tumbling waves.

A turtle swimming.

Eyes feathers with round eyes so sliver with light,

Hooked bills and talons that can be told.

A stalker of the night so cunning and old.

From the bite of ice,

Lays the trick of seeing to suffice, 

No sound but the leaves of the trees,

And a thousand years to be told.

Who?

Slithed about like a little conundrum.

Shine his shoes and take forty more winks on the mat.

Out a tickled pink drum.

Golden orbs curl and glimmer.

Bathe in the sun’s solace from dusk to dawn.

Arctic coat with a spelling shimmer.

Rouse from winks with extension and yawn.

But howling and writhing every dark.

Patches of all flesh and bone.

Prowled the lost whisper of the lark.

For fake was lone.

Glass mirrors slithe away.

Wraith hungers for the day.

Barely touching the grey sky

Red, orange even blue

With no flickers as the wind blew

Ash filled the air all around

Nothing but black, left on the ground

Staining the streets with despair

Getting ash and dust in my hair

Proud and strong

Lasting quite long

Scorching endlessly, without a pause

No one knew of the cause

Once the flames died down

Word spread around the town

Panic started to ease

A fresh wind passed, a breeze

Grass and trees were grown

No one was left alone

Things started anew

There was rejoice and cheering

No more were people fearing

The wrath of fire

Though they should never forget

This lasting threat

But it is a race 

Speed speed my mind chants 

No, I must pace 

Images fade next to me 

One after the next 

The finish line, it's all I see 

My thoughts turn complex 

Do I sprint now or wait 

Wasting my energy can't be great 

But I feel this urge 

My excitement starts to surge 

I give in to the desire 

To speed before I should 

My feet are on fire 

I sprint, can't be good 

My legs burn with effort 

I beat the rest 

There's now sweat on my shirt 

But I finish as best 

I smile and gasp for breath 

All in the same time 

I feel near to death 

Yet so alive all at once 

Invigorating the run was 

That is the word 

I feel a special buzz 

Though that may sound absurd 

Adrenalin pumps through my veins

Nothing more remains

Only the memory of running

And this poem and my pains 

During summer break,

I’m supposed to be in bed,

But I am here instead.

 

We walk to the dock,

It’s about 3 o’clock,

Myself I’m really bored,

As we walk towards,

Our really ancient boat,

That we are lucky stays afloat.

 

On the old boat we sit,

For quite a long bit,

Until we enter a bog,

With a thud, we hit a log.

 

Before we turned back,

I wanted to eat a snack,

So I take out some bread,

But it gets knocked down,

Annoyed, I grumble and frown.

 

But it made my day,

When out of the muck,

Came I beautiful duck.

 

Then came more,

In groups of four,

They started to quack,

As they ate my only snack.

 

I started to laugh without too loud a sound,

Go not scare them away,

When they started to surround,

My boat, I could watch them all day.

 

I had lots and lots of fun,

I watched as they spun,

Around and around,

As they flipped upside down.

 

I watched for a long time,

Until the morning bells started to chime,

I was glad that I’d came,

For it was a shame,

I couldn’t stay for longer.