The Feline and the Rodent

There exists a multitude of sides to every story,
whether it’s a fairy tale or exceptionally gory.
Let me tell you all about a predator and prey —
the Feline and the Rodent, more specifically to say.

Aimless does the little Rodent wander, small and grey;
it’s too dumb and self-concerned to know itself as prey.
Thanks to this it gives the Feline plenty time and slack
to come out like a shadow but then make its grand attack.

From the Feline’s cavity does the Rat blood come a-pouring —
those shiny, spiky teeth of its can surely do a goring!
The bloodied Rat — a pity — lies between the Feline’s teeth;
as the Cat prepares the Rodent for a sad life underneath.

The Cat, however, tires and grows bored with its new kill;
it decides to walk the streets to find another fill.
The Cat in all its hunting prowess finds another prey,
which this time turns to look at it and damn itself to say:

“Why do you, the Felines, dare to persecute my kind?
Are you sadistic animals or simply off your minds?”
The Feline hardly heard those words and what the Rodent said;
it pounced upon the Rodent and then left it there for dead.

Rapping of the drum

Da dum da dum da dum —
The rapping of a drum.

Lying in my chamber bed,
between the wake and dream
I heard what I perceived to be
the rapping of a drum.

I could hear the women sing,
men and angels too;
in my head flashed colors new
as if in Heaven's ring.

The women sang with banshee cries,
according to the drum;
perhaps they cried aloud to some
to comfort as they died.

Da dum da dum da dum —
The rapping of a drum.

The banging of the drum that night
coaxed my eyes to close
and dragged me from the world I know
to magic, awe, and fright.

The town was oddly empty
yet its streets were oddly clean.
The windows had the certain sheen
of water in the stream.

I wandered to the hours pass —
the houses stone and clay
that called me back to bygone days —
to make the slumber last.

The morning called for me to wake
and for my nightly fast to break,
although the drum had stopped its beat
and quiet reigned vicinity.

I checked up on my sister's bed
and to my sorrow found her dead.
A bullet had been through her head —
the banging of a gun.

I walked outside to see the town;
men and boys — soldiers — lay down.
Beside them lay their rifles too,
and also gals and girls in blue.

Hesperiidae

Onto flowers skippers fly

with spheres of black and beady eyes
that have seen a thousand years
and yet have shed no poignant tear.
Fiery wings with chipper flight
win against the jet and kite;
for no creature of man compares
to fabric weaved from Nature’s hair.

A horseman and his steed

With his steed the horseman comes
up the craggy hills —
up those grassy hills.

With the man the steed does run fast
to the forest land —
to the unknown land.

But man and horse, they hardly know
where the hills will lead them to.

The horseman sees a dog on foot
and shoots it in the head —
in the dog’s angry head.

The dog, unfazed, kept its pursuit
to bite the horseman’s leg —
the horseman’s bony leg.

The horseman, still, refused to fall
onto the dirty ground —
the taken, well-tread ground.

He and his steed sleep well tonight
atop their makeshift beds —
their crooked, straw-made beds.

The dog does keep itself in wait
with hunger in its eyes —
the beady, vicious eyes.

The horseman, who could not have known
that he and horse were not alone.

The sun, bright white, on land does shine
its rays onto the sea —
the abyss of the sea.

The horseman rose as did the sun
though blood poured from his leg —
his burden of a leg.

Horseman went to mount his steed;
beside them walked the dog —
the greedy, ragged dog.

Horseman fell onto the rocks
when the dog attacked the steed —
the faithful, fragile steed.

The steed did fall below the man
onto the jagged rocks —
the steep fall of the rocks.

The dog reflects, its face content,
on what it had just done —
what it’d again done.

Man and steed, a long way down
go underneath the sea —
the abyss of the sea.

The forest to which they tried to go
does remain untouched —
eternally untouched.

Less than human beings

Soldiers raped the Vietnamese

and left them on the road;
they weren’t women, weren’t children,
but products of their foe.

They fired at the babies’ heads
and mangled girls’ remains;
senselessly they raped and killed
the souls without restraint.

To you and I this seems far-fetched:
what man could do such things?
It’s easy when he thinks of them
as less than human beings.

Wonder how the Nazis
could so surely kill the Jews?
They saw them not as men and women,
but vermin and refuse.

“Jews don’t cry, but let out
filthy water from their eyes;
they drop at death onto the ground
like rats and roaches die.”

Then they take the bodies to be
buried in mass graves;
discarding, nary a tear,
the skeletal remains.

To you and I this seems far-fetched:
what man could do such things?
It’s easy when he thinks of them
as less than human beings.

When they go home
to greet their wives,
they act like you and me —
at the moment, men at home, not of atrocity.

If they get caught they claim that
they were “doing as we’re told”;
instead of rot they may
run free and merrily grow old.

Neither are they inhuman
nor mythologic beasts;
they live next door and at the core
are just like you and me.

The Devil's Dogs

Satan, in a man’s disguise,
went up to check on Earth;
appallingly he saw it lacked
an evil of much worth.

Returned to Hell and thought surely
“that must be made to change;
I shall create a horrid beast
to terrorise its range”.

At its birth he saw its worth —
it caused his hand to bleed;
it mauled the hounds and growled at him
and reaped the Hellish seed.

He looked and liked his new creation
“They’ve never been among”,
He thought to himself, in contemplation,
“I’ll call the beast a dog!”

The dog soon had a female mate
with which to spread its kind;
the Devil set them loose on Earth
to see what prey they'd find.

The dogs maddened the earthly men;
“Somebody get the chains!”
Till the women’s tender hearts would
see them look for prey.

They took them in as refugees
and gave them all the food.
They tried to make them residents
and train them to be good.

Dogs by nature have the urge —
the ceaseless need to feast;
and soon were they to prove
themselves as horrifying beasts.

A young girl knelt before a dog
to dress it in her lace;
But it in instinct snapped at her
and savored flesh of face.

A shepherd left his flock alone
to have a spot of tea;
At his return he saw that
he was missing all his sheep.

A mother poor left on a plate
a piece of bread to carve;
the dog wanted to help itself,
so all her kids would starve.

The Devil proudly saw his work
and saw what they had done:
“The dogs have taken twenty-four;
I hope they’re having fun”.

The people gave the Devil's dogs
unneeded love and play.
They didn't fear and didn't flee, and
neither did they pray.

A woman dressed the hell-dog’s wound
using a linen band;
She took it in and bathed its fur
although it bit her hand.

It rained one day, it poured that day;
The dogs were doing fine —
scarcely do they feel the rain —
but folks led them inside.

The evening came, the dogs ran loose
and were the fools confused;
till the dogs flooded the roads
and broke to them the news:

One by one the dogs did maul
the people of the town;
Not a crew of twenty men
could put the monsters down.

Soon — within an hour's time —
would all the folks be dead;
the dogs would not, nary a thought
within their ugly heads.

Satan laughed with hearty glee,
“Killed men, not only sheep!”;
poured himself a glass of wine,
and put himself to sleep.

Sea in which we intertwine

Sea of fishes, sea of mine,

sea in which we intertwine.
Be it barren or be it fair,
we all sail to it from everywhere.

Does it scald, or does it freeze?
Is to swim a misery?
Do we, the seamen, return ashore
or remain in it forevermore?

Does it scald for sinners, freeze for saints?
Do those who dive get whipped with pain?
A waking paradise or an abyssal sleep?
No end to the secrets the sea does keep.