~crow~

02/28/2012

0 Comments

 
~hear them gathering~
~ebon wings aflutter~
~they peck dreams from the eyes of the dead~
~darklings & spider things~
~hop-strutting~
~carcass to carcass~
~irreverent~
~devilish & amused~
~at what passes for life~
~& death~
~as if there is a difference~

~crow~

~its black voice~
~caw caw caw~
~it sees him through the window~
~“go away!” he cries~
~“leave me now this midnight hour!”~

~its head, a swivel thing~
~follows his descent~
~the concrete walls of the cellar~
~veins protruding~
~he hears a thick~
~liquid fluid drip~
~as he walks into a web~

~his hands claw at his face~
~web film on his lips~
~something crawls down~
~the back of his shirt~
~the pull string light bumps his nose~
~his hand follows~
~but he cannot find it~

~he stumbles blindly~
~to the other side of the room~
~clawing at his spider shirt~
~until it is torn away~
~he feels needles~
~spider steps~
~skitter across his skin~

~“webs, webs!” he howls~
~rolls over on the floor~
~alive, his naked skin crawls~
~he covers his ears, closes his eyes~
~the horror sound will not go away~
~a gurgle liquid deep~
~emanates from somewhere within him~

~he sneaks an eye open~
~a faint light is revealed~
~madness held at bay~
~he crawls toward it~
~on his knees, hands raised~
~over his head reaching~
~saliva~
~he giggles at his gurgle~

~through the moonlit pane of glass~
~her black voice~
~caw caw caw~
~she sees him through the window~

http://wordwulf.com
WordWulf
Inquiries: tracy@traceliteraryagency.com
& wordwulf@wordwulf.com
©artwork & words conceived by & property of
Tom (WordWulf) Sterner©
Add Comment
 

~The Danse/After Midnight~

11/29/2011

0 Comments

 
~standing on the parapet~
~drifting~
~falling away~
~he combs his moustache~
~tries the lock on the door~
~he can’t get out~
~she can’t get in~
~he laughs at his own sex games~
~a prisoner of id~
~aware~
~startled awake~
~a leather thong about his throat~
~locomotives blasting through his mind~
~bird-speak in the outside yard of himself~
~darkness fails to quiet the night of leather wing & dervish whispers~

~The Danse/After Midnight~

Listening to a train again blowing down the tracks, his room has a window he refuses to look out of.  Do you have any idea of your timelessness, how you took his breath away in a single note of dismissal?

With pen in hand, he is strong.  He wields the slender instrument, uses it to dig holes in himself, with firm hand and quivering gait to pen mystery, bravely walk away, weeping to that monster awful shrieking whistle – God!  Damn those wandering tracks of love.

You tied a strip of rawhide around his wrist, kissed him sweetly in your poor lost house.  You smelled and looked lovely, asked him to leave so you wouldn’t have to say goodbye in the morning, in the blue morning, there to attend him, birds in the yard, creatures who speak a language he understands. 

It is the hour before midnight, a time of deep, blue/black darkness.  He is a leather wraith drifting down the road, climbing out of the muck of himself.  Established of ebon spirit, he experiences liberation, divinity, vulgarity of faith as he seizes the opportunity to finally know who he is, discover through crumbling walls of reality, the bare dangling roots of creativity, the mangled remnants of his self-worth tied inexorably to a lady lost, you, to yourself, in yourself, seeking.  He is not the knot of leather tied. 

He hears a child laugh while enjoying conversation in a room full of strangers.  This night he is claimed of shame, a man failed in the midnight hour.  He damns his tears their salty tracks, prays to deaf gods for the peace of leather dreams, faces the night alone in his icy human flesh. 

http://wordwulf.com
WordWulf
Inquiries: tracy@traceliteraryagency.com
& wordwulf@wordwulf.com
©artwork & words conceived by & property of
Tom (WordWulf) Sterner©
Add Comment
 

~snippets~

05/13/2011

0 Comments

 
~mean night-
~a man & his son~
~levis & leather~
~whiskey & rum~
~good dog~
~a big dog~
~something~
 ~they can get ahold of~
Add Comment
 
UA-15153748-2