Tyr-Ziu Saxnot
04-10-2020, 08:43 PM
I was lead today by a comment a fellow poet sent me in email. That my poetry inspired him and many more .
He then referenced this truly magnificent free verse poem written by my dear friend Susan Ashley. Quoted below- Tyr
An Omen Of The Taste Of Twilight
Poet's Notes(Hide)(Show)
Become a Premium Member and post notes and photos about your poem like Susan Ashley.
This poem is written in dedication to my very dear friend, Robert Lindley, for his inspiring friendship, and in tribute to his magnificent poem, 'American Indian, Nightshade, Moonshadows and Howling Wolf'. The haunting beauty of his powerful and soulful piece touched my heart, moved my spirit and ignited my imagination. Thank you, Robert, for the wondrous gift of your resplendent poetry.
An Omen Of The Taste Of Twilight
Vanished
is the wild magic of this place;
this wilderness I now roam alone
as its lifeblood seeps
into
Afterlife
..my mournful howls
across time and distance
go unanswered -
Oh, how I long to join again
in my brethren’s song..
fading sunlight falls in slivers
through boughs of evergreen splinters
across timeworn trails I tread -
beaten by generational rhythms
of the steady, swift and sure
I want to run
but I keep my loping stride
for I will get there;
to the track
to the other side
when the twilight tastes
of blood
the train’s lonely wail
leans on sooty winds
heaving sighs of sad sentiments
as I make my way parallel to the parallel lines of track -
its smokey dirge
echoes laments
walled within the desolation of my soul -
this Trojan horse;
larger than any mighty prey
my brethren and I could ever take down -
smuggles pale warriors into my revered forest
on veins and arteries of iron
throbbing with an inhumane vengeance
..my mind wanders in the reckless wreckage of it all..
neath overhanging branches
where leftover oak leaves
rustle in a clinging stubbornness
and flit like a flock of freeze-dried sparrows
I pass..
somewhere up there
above my rolling shoulders
where reaching tips of praying branches
pierce the softness of the other side
a widowed crow cries
black and forlorn..
I embody her solitude
for -
from my pack
I am the
last
of my kind —
..despite my discipline
my tireless legs trot faster..
a maroon sunset stretches with bloodlust across taut skies;
an omen of the taste of twilight -
my pace and my pulse quicken now
like the tribal drums
I used to know
I arrive
here where they gather
a track I can no longer follow - a track I need to cross;
..tales of stalking deer - trails traversed with my pack - thoughts - tears -
my path now -
what’s left behind - boundaries kept and boundaries to bridge..
human hatred
all converge at this meeting place
amidst falling shadows of dimming light
are forerunners of freedom -
aged memories that dwell in the pocket of my being
now well in the stream of my noble bloodline -
primal chants
haunting from throats
both furred and smooth-skinned
resonate in reverie;
.. millenniums of coexistence and ancient campfires..
forebears; both four-legged and two
vibrate the mystique of this moment -
its quivers
I sense in my whiskers --
I see the invaders
through my grey-green eyes
mine; the final witness
to the decimation of my pack
and the territory of my ancestors..
in the atmospheric chill
my panting vapor frames my thoughts
and instinct urges me forward
to the track
the sun is
dimmed
by my passion
and the moon
reflects
in my eyes
every hammering heartbeat
a stepping stone to the next moment
every muscle twitching
with trepidation - with anticipation
..Oh! how I long to join again
in my brethren’s song!..
long legs carry me lightly out onto the crossties
my soulful destination
where parallel universes collide
to lift me in my wish to inspirit cosmic dust;
my snarling form reveals the wild nature of my fateful desire..
I turn
to face them one last time -
muzzles flash with fire-breathing frenzy
splitting the air
with scents and sounds
in an orgy of gunpowder lust
spilling the taste
of wanton bloodthirst
into the ebb and flow of crimson twilight;
pale savages savagely ensure my unholy deliverance.
..my mournful howls
across time and distance
no longer
go
unanswered
as I cross over the gossamer track
of gentling night skies…
Susan Ashley
December 8, 2018
~ Second Place ~
Contest: Your Personal Perfect Poem
Sponsor: Brian Strand
~ Seventh Place ~
Contest: Favorite Free Verse
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke
~ Poem Of The Week ~
Week of December 16, 2018
Copyright © Susan Ashley | Year Posted 2018
*****************************************
And my friend Susan got to compose that from reading this poem that I
composed about the people of my mother and my Native American grandfather
I am so truly amazed and honored by her very kind and most sincere tribute.........-Tyr
American Indian, Nightshades, Moonshadows And Howling Wolf
Thirsty for red moon, its sacred beams and eternal pull
howling-out to speak to this dark and blind world, without fear;
Your echoes enter, soulful bones of insightful red man
birthing growing urges to return and run truly free,
falling upon ancient trails, foraging for lean red meat
race with red-heart's deepest desires into widest abyss,
embrace our mother earth, unified into one body.
Where ancient trails once well-known, rests under dust long fallin'.
Moon's golden realms hear both man and wolf, faithful loud callin'.
Standing proud, atop very high and lonesome mountain crag
winds caressing one of Nature's most beautiful creatures;
Notes calling loud, that give night's resplendent moon pregnant pause
in that silent and golden moment, where man so trembles,
for it is then knowledge comes, therein sings of true freedom
having no need for dreams of blind men or dark worldly lusts,
speaking to pack below, mirroring its deep felt tones.
Where ancient trails once well-known, rests under dust long fallin'.
Moon's golden realms hear both man and wolf, faithful loud callin'.
Alas! Fate and Fury- rage combine and oft delivers
soul-crushing, black-handed cuts from darkened realms far below;
Wherein has justice overcame Fate's most savage attacks
when hatred and greed both conspired to not be defeated,
in infliction of war's sorrows and deadly destruction
while parading under banner of Light and compassion,
tales of malevolent beasts, benevolently destroyed!
Where ancient trails once well-known, rests under dust long fallin'.
Moon's golden realms hear both man and wolf, faithful loud callin'.
R. J. Lindley,
Feb 2nd, 1973
Poetry-- Subject Nature, Wolf, Amerian Indian And Injustice...
Old note: My mother's father was Native American. I gained
great insight into the life of Native Americans from words
he spoke to me. Since his death, I have read many books that
gave even more historical knowledge on the subject. Finding
the ones that did not deliberately cover up the savage acts
carried out by "whites" against Native Americans.
~ Poem Of The Week ~
Week of November 11, 2018
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2018
He then referenced this truly magnificent free verse poem written by my dear friend Susan Ashley. Quoted below- Tyr
An Omen Of The Taste Of Twilight
Poet's Notes(Hide)(Show)
Become a Premium Member and post notes and photos about your poem like Susan Ashley.
This poem is written in dedication to my very dear friend, Robert Lindley, for his inspiring friendship, and in tribute to his magnificent poem, 'American Indian, Nightshade, Moonshadows and Howling Wolf'. The haunting beauty of his powerful and soulful piece touched my heart, moved my spirit and ignited my imagination. Thank you, Robert, for the wondrous gift of your resplendent poetry.
An Omen Of The Taste Of Twilight
Vanished
is the wild magic of this place;
this wilderness I now roam alone
as its lifeblood seeps
into
Afterlife
..my mournful howls
across time and distance
go unanswered -
Oh, how I long to join again
in my brethren’s song..
fading sunlight falls in slivers
through boughs of evergreen splinters
across timeworn trails I tread -
beaten by generational rhythms
of the steady, swift and sure
I want to run
but I keep my loping stride
for I will get there;
to the track
to the other side
when the twilight tastes
of blood
the train’s lonely wail
leans on sooty winds
heaving sighs of sad sentiments
as I make my way parallel to the parallel lines of track -
its smokey dirge
echoes laments
walled within the desolation of my soul -
this Trojan horse;
larger than any mighty prey
my brethren and I could ever take down -
smuggles pale warriors into my revered forest
on veins and arteries of iron
throbbing with an inhumane vengeance
..my mind wanders in the reckless wreckage of it all..
neath overhanging branches
where leftover oak leaves
rustle in a clinging stubbornness
and flit like a flock of freeze-dried sparrows
I pass..
somewhere up there
above my rolling shoulders
where reaching tips of praying branches
pierce the softness of the other side
a widowed crow cries
black and forlorn..
I embody her solitude
for -
from my pack
I am the
last
of my kind —
..despite my discipline
my tireless legs trot faster..
a maroon sunset stretches with bloodlust across taut skies;
an omen of the taste of twilight -
my pace and my pulse quicken now
like the tribal drums
I used to know
I arrive
here where they gather
a track I can no longer follow - a track I need to cross;
..tales of stalking deer - trails traversed with my pack - thoughts - tears -
my path now -
what’s left behind - boundaries kept and boundaries to bridge..
human hatred
all converge at this meeting place
amidst falling shadows of dimming light
are forerunners of freedom -
aged memories that dwell in the pocket of my being
now well in the stream of my noble bloodline -
primal chants
haunting from throats
both furred and smooth-skinned
resonate in reverie;
.. millenniums of coexistence and ancient campfires..
forebears; both four-legged and two
vibrate the mystique of this moment -
its quivers
I sense in my whiskers --
I see the invaders
through my grey-green eyes
mine; the final witness
to the decimation of my pack
and the territory of my ancestors..
in the atmospheric chill
my panting vapor frames my thoughts
and instinct urges me forward
to the track
the sun is
dimmed
by my passion
and the moon
reflects
in my eyes
every hammering heartbeat
a stepping stone to the next moment
every muscle twitching
with trepidation - with anticipation
..Oh! how I long to join again
in my brethren’s song!..
long legs carry me lightly out onto the crossties
my soulful destination
where parallel universes collide
to lift me in my wish to inspirit cosmic dust;
my snarling form reveals the wild nature of my fateful desire..
I turn
to face them one last time -
muzzles flash with fire-breathing frenzy
splitting the air
with scents and sounds
in an orgy of gunpowder lust
spilling the taste
of wanton bloodthirst
into the ebb and flow of crimson twilight;
pale savages savagely ensure my unholy deliverance.
..my mournful howls
across time and distance
no longer
go
unanswered
as I cross over the gossamer track
of gentling night skies…
Susan Ashley
December 8, 2018
~ Second Place ~
Contest: Your Personal Perfect Poem
Sponsor: Brian Strand
~ Seventh Place ~
Contest: Favorite Free Verse
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke
~ Poem Of The Week ~
Week of December 16, 2018
Copyright © Susan Ashley | Year Posted 2018
*****************************************
And my friend Susan got to compose that from reading this poem that I
composed about the people of my mother and my Native American grandfather
I am so truly amazed and honored by her very kind and most sincere tribute.........-Tyr
American Indian, Nightshades, Moonshadows And Howling Wolf
Thirsty for red moon, its sacred beams and eternal pull
howling-out to speak to this dark and blind world, without fear;
Your echoes enter, soulful bones of insightful red man
birthing growing urges to return and run truly free,
falling upon ancient trails, foraging for lean red meat
race with red-heart's deepest desires into widest abyss,
embrace our mother earth, unified into one body.
Where ancient trails once well-known, rests under dust long fallin'.
Moon's golden realms hear both man and wolf, faithful loud callin'.
Standing proud, atop very high and lonesome mountain crag
winds caressing one of Nature's most beautiful creatures;
Notes calling loud, that give night's resplendent moon pregnant pause
in that silent and golden moment, where man so trembles,
for it is then knowledge comes, therein sings of true freedom
having no need for dreams of blind men or dark worldly lusts,
speaking to pack below, mirroring its deep felt tones.
Where ancient trails once well-known, rests under dust long fallin'.
Moon's golden realms hear both man and wolf, faithful loud callin'.
Alas! Fate and Fury- rage combine and oft delivers
soul-crushing, black-handed cuts from darkened realms far below;
Wherein has justice overcame Fate's most savage attacks
when hatred and greed both conspired to not be defeated,
in infliction of war's sorrows and deadly destruction
while parading under banner of Light and compassion,
tales of malevolent beasts, benevolently destroyed!
Where ancient trails once well-known, rests under dust long fallin'.
Moon's golden realms hear both man and wolf, faithful loud callin'.
R. J. Lindley,
Feb 2nd, 1973
Poetry-- Subject Nature, Wolf, Amerian Indian And Injustice...
Old note: My mother's father was Native American. I gained
great insight into the life of Native Americans from words
he spoke to me. Since his death, I have read many books that
gave even more historical knowledge on the subject. Finding
the ones that did not deliberately cover up the savage acts
carried out by "whites" against Native Americans.
~ Poem Of The Week ~
Week of November 11, 2018
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2018