PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I’m searching for a way

To express these persistent screams

Living beneath these eyes

Crafting nightmares out of dreams

I’m searching for a way

To surpass these sadden seas

But I hold on to my Kraken

Swallowing the beast within me

Is there no place?

To let insecurities come to pass

To burn amongst the sky

To take wings in Earthly drafts

Is there no place?

To drown the insistent thoughts

To wither them to the bone

To expose them till they rot

I forget there is no place

To home creatures of my kind

The unforgiving weathered world

Leaving me behind

I forget there is no place

To embrace who I desire

My creature clawing outward

Set these streets on fire

When does morning start?

When a creature awakes,

Or when the sun rises?

Yea, the morning is

When a creature awakes

To find it starting anew

In the world dominated

By mortal souls.

The human wakes up

First by opening its eyes,

Then stretching its muscles

And sitting up in a position

To retreat from the bed

That held it prisoner 

During the long, dark night.

Out of bed it goes

Attending its normal

Robotic morning routine

Whilst thinking of the future,

Of what the day holds,

And how the day will go.

Either gleefully or woefully

Does the human think of this

For not all mornings 

Are filled with happiness and glee.

Fearful not is the human

Who takes things as they go

Wave by wave.

Wave by wave harassing it,

Wave by wave attacking it,

Wave by wave saddening it,

Wave by wave entertaining it,

Wave by wave knocking it down.

Each wave the human does take

Accepting each as a challenge,

As an opponent, an obstacle,

And one that must be rid of.

Defeat is not in its dictionary,

For there is no defeat

If one can rise again,

And face the same challenge

To only be victorious.

The human does not give up,

It does not ponder on the past,

But it rises from its ashes - 

Waking up to start anew

In a world dominated

By mortal souls.

The darkness arrives
And yet something wakes.
The sun goes to sleep
Covered in the blankets
Of the horizon.
The moon wakes up 
To take the sun's place.
Where the sun once watched over,
Now the moon does the same.

The creatures below sleep 
Both in comfort and discomfort.
The creatures move about 
In the shadows
Untouched by the moon's light.
Quietly they sleep.
Stealthily they crawl.
The night is quiet,
With silence the night wears on. 

I run through the dark,

The most Ancient Gods,

Prototypes of all the Gods,

Worshiped before humanity;

And all came from one source.

The source is called Mlandoth,

All Gods are manifestations of Him.

Ngyr-Khorath, the mad and monstrous thing

Whom haunts this region of space

Before the solar system was formed,

Is a local eddy of Mlandoth's Race.

Yidhra, who was born with the life of Earth

Intertwining with all Earthly life-forms,

Teaches reverence for Mlandoth.

Before death was born, She was born;

For untold ages there was life without death,

Life without birth, life unchanging.

But at last death came; birth came;

Life became mortal and mutable,

And thereafter fathers died,

Sons were born, and never the same.

The slime became the worm

And the worm the serpent,

The serpent the yeti of the mountains

And the yeti became man.

Only She escaped death,

Escaped birth.

But She could not escape change,

For all things will change;

The trees of the North must shed their leaves.

She learned to devour the mortal creatures;

From their seed to change Herself,

And to be as all mortal things,

Living forever without birth, without death.

Deep oceans dwelt in her soft cadenced
breathing, and the song of the seagull
strained in her hair, and her eyes had the hues
of the sunset as they sank in the distance
in hazel-brown skies.

She came unexpected, entangled in weeds,
caught in the net of a sad-eyed fisherman,
and her song had the call of the ocean,
and the call of the wave, and was heard

by all creatures that live in the deep:
the fisherman's nets now are crowded galore!
Bass, salmon, and lobster, bewitched by the song
of the girl who came from the sea!

They made love in his cabin, off the west coast
of Ire, the girl from the ocean and the sad-eyed
fisherman. And her sighs were like magic,
like the surf on the beach, and her moans were
like breakers that broke on the cliffs of his heart.

He was caught in the foam of her spell-binding
songs, caught in the strands of her sand-colored
hair, caught in the breeze of her lips, and the fish

in her mouth, as they loved in his cabin off the west
coast of Ire, and the tide of the ocean, and the wind
of the sea, and the sighs of the girl stole right
into his heart.

Now the cabin lies empty, struck by the wind,
and the waves of the ocean, and the tides
of the sea, and a song that bewitches

can be heard in the distance, in hazel-brown
skies, which glow like the eyes of the girl
who came from the sea.

(c) Copyright Jim Valero, 2012.

It creeps in the shadows of the night,
Looking for any food in sight,

You'll never hear it coming behind you,
'Cause it's smooth, sly, fast, and it'll blind you,

You might just wanna stay in your bed,
With your covers way over your head,

For it may see the fear in your eyes,
Then there'll be no time for goodbyes.