Crouching here, dark-shadowed
from heat-searing sun,
this body seems mine
almost
or I its, I do not know.
I run. The knife piercing my heart
matching the knife heavy in my hand.
Blood streams naked thighs,
flashing crimson as I race
hot-red from my new kill
it terrifies
attracts.
Within shadows, my quarry
cowers. It knows I am here, but
not yet who or what.
It fears the phantom-shadow
of bright day, killing and
killing. By night they search
but will not, cannot find,
or know that I hunt with them
as they search, that I
AM the monster and in sweet darkness,
I will not know it either. Now
I run, naked through the sunset, bleeding
from thorns and briars, heart hammered
by the demon I have become
hideous body erect,
hairless, clawless, fangless,
slaying brothers. I weep to die,
but cannot.
Day-nightmare, at night blessed
oblivion of reality. With the night,
I will become the wolf
again.
Author notes
Just to keep things from getting stale, a variation on the werewolf: a wolf that turns into a man by day and joins other men in hunting and killing wolves...and doesn't know it.
A contest entry
- Life isn't everything, Death isn't nothing 1000+ point contest, LOTS OF OPTIONS!~Still open!!!~ by Soten-Jaganshi.
1100 points, ended September 7, 2007, 62 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Options, heaps to choose from by ForgottenMemories.
650 points, ended September 17, 2007, 43 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Wow, this is such a beautiful write about changing into a werewolf and changing back into human form. It shows ALOT of imagery, and is very descriptive. I loved it beginning to end, and thought it was very well written.
Thanks for entering and good luck!
Sleep-N -
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Many thanks. Glad you liked it.
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Michael Collings - this poem is a hard one to critique. By the way, your comments on my grandmother and my memory of her , will be looked at later tonight. You are so close to total/complete objectivity when you comment for me, that I am beyond thanks to you. I will read it and look at the poem later tonight. Now, this poem of yours: I had seen this poem on your site and I kind of avoided it, but here it is: First of all I am going to be my usual wordy. The greatest fact of nature is that the kill knows it has a purpose in being killed, yet it struggles against natures way. Is this transferred to human sensitivity? I am not sure. In Viet Nam, men close to me used to sream out, just before death, "Ma, they are trying to kill me" (I am crying remembering). Why they would turn to their mother at death is maybe something to do with returning to the womb? The birth process is the most traumatic on a comparison to death. So, when death (which is easy, I am told) comes the soul cries out for the most important time of their inception. This is interesting to me and I am sure that William James would love to sit and have tea and talk about it. His brother Henry would wave his hand and say, "You and your psychology. Novels are where it is at." This is one aspect to your poem. Second aspect is that creatures know their place in the KILLING EVENT. I read where this "knowing of place" is tied into the creature seeing itself in a line/continuum where this isolated death is a small part of a larger sequence of life within the creatures mind. Fascinating, isn't it? I love these thoughts. And remember, creatures like cats and dogs seem to always be in a heightened sense of themselves. Like they live in or are "in" the zone all the time. Zone, I have trouble getting throughor into by using meditation or drugs, either way. I believe this Zone is called the "Spacious Present". Eh??? Nice word, Huh? In the Spacious Present time ceases to exist as we know it. Past, Present and future all blend into one time or continuum. Thus the creature struggles against death, but knows that this life that they are losing only collapses one part of the non ending selves that reach into infinity. Now your poem:
Yschiros, Theor Zebaoth, Wyzeth, Yzathos, Xyzo, Xywethororwoy, Xantho, Wiros, Rurawey, Ymowe, Noswathosway, Wuvnethowesy, Zebaoth, Yvmo, Zvswethonowe, Yschyrioskay, Ulathos, Wyzoy, Yrsawo, Xyzeth, Durobijthaos, Wuzowethus, Yzweoy, Zaday, Zywaye, Hagathorwos, Yachyros, Imas, Tetragrammaton, Ariel.
Citation of Ariel
ARIELIS
Seal or Character for Coercion and Obedience.
Lycan lore deals with slaves to the vampires? I am collating and scanning and rereading your poem................Seems to me that your poems always have the feel of having just woke up and you are writing down the dream right away before full awakeness takes hold. Maybe that is how all us poets write? This poem seems to be an awakening poem. The creature is coming awake also. Now I must digress a little. Bear with me: I may grow out of this dislike, but for now I do not enter contests. I hate it when I am commenting to a person about a poem and they fall back on: WRITTEN FOR A CONTEST therefore your criticism is not on track. Sorry. I hope you please do not say that to me. You are so diverse. Your little poem Triolet is a poetic form I was not aware of. There are so many types of forms that there could never be enough contests to keep up with the stock available to a poet. A lot of time when I write, I simply start and let the poem pick the form. You do very well fitting the poem within a form. So (back on your poem) your creature is coming alive or awake or aware or zooming toward the Spacious Present because of the kill. My friend Patricia says that in life the killed become the killers in afterlife and visa versa - the killers become the killed. She says it is a way the soul balances its experience out. So, this creature of yours is slave to the vampires. This is a poem describing the creatures feelings. There is some aspect of the creature getting outside of it's self and talking about the feelings of the hunted. But for the most part it is simply the creature and the blood lust of the creature. Too bad you did not have the creature dreaming of sitting and sipping aperitifs with all the blood going around ? Maybe the creature wants to be more than the creature? So the poem is from the view of the creature. What the fuck, God Damn it Michael, these contests make me unhinged. But I do not know If I have helped you. Maybe you did not want this deep of an analysis?
Maybe try semi colons instead of dashes where the words infer a whole sentence with the verb or subject implied. I do not like dashes or .........periods when you are punching out small sentences. You see, semi colons are abrupt. I like abrupt.
You stopped me like collision of realities when you said, "I love you". I stepped back and was taken unawares. You were never supposed to love me. You were my teacher; You had a husband; You were older than me; You did not know how I felt about you; And, you were closing the door on teaching me and stepping back to be taught by me.
Sorry, got carried away..........
Write me if you want more on this creature fellow.......
michael thomas
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