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    Default Why I Write Poetry And Hope To Gift To Others....

    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
    Last edited by Tyr-Ziu Saxnot; 04-13-2020 at 04:46 AM.
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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