I am a Storyteller, first and foremost. This is my blog for poetry, prose, stories, excerpts of my novels and videos. Life poetry, prophetic poetry, poetry for all genres. I think you'll find yourself here if you read long enough.
The Hunter and The Hunted My skin is different from yours It glows in moonlight And burns in noon day brightness; And yours is brown and burnished and beautiful (Even to the eyes of the vanquished.) How many moons I have been enslaved, I do not know I am a servant here with gold pierced ears And I never learned to read the scrolls Not written on men’s hearts. Your people take joy In hunting the proud and free, Of which I am a daughter Though underneath the pinpoint of your stare, I clinch my fists and keep my face downcast. But in my soul, I know you know That I am running free beyond this desert, Climbing mountains and wading streams And fleeing from your dark and hungry eyes. Silken veils and chains of silver, They cannot make me cower at your feet The voices of my fathers call out in my dreaming Warn me of the darkness Of your rivers and desires. And yet, sometimes, When moonlight falls, And midnight breezes play their songs, The harshness of the desert fades And this cool oasis bids me stay. But my heart is hard of hearing And though it sways me, I will not bend or break my vows And so I serve you and I curse you Through many watches of the sun and stars. You walk alone tonight beside the river Behind the rushes, I watch you go Into the trees with their black blankets You’re just a man, I see, without your armor How tall, yet small and lonely you seem to me. Running now with feet of fire, I hide in shadow as I pursue your presence Stalking you as you walk in night shade, unaware Seeking what my soul seeks With cold, unfeeling steel clutched in my hand. Hunting you, I think how good it feels to run, How sweet the night tastes on my homesick tongue, How the tyranny of your beautiful people Has spoiled the ancient purity of mine. I will show no mercy (for none have you shown me) Even as I danced for you in firelight, Fed you from my fingertips in starlight Toiled for you a thousand dawns of daylight And never knew the tender touch of love. Rising with the midnight moon, A cry of anguish, startling as a storm Keens and wails and stops me in my tracks, Shakes me to the core in heart confusion, Drops me to my knees upon the ground. You lift your hands to Deity I know not In a language I have not yet mastered, And barely understand Beyond the no’s and yes’s of my slave’s commandments (For obedience cares not if you comprehend). In breathless wonderment, we listen, The Deity, the silent sky and I To mournful pleas to be released from torment, From longings of a heart, broken and torn More puzzling still: My name upon your lips. I can wait no longer, this I reckon For soon your weakness will pass And the man be gone and the tyrant arise And I will be his slave forever If freedom is my fortune, I will find it in your death. Your head turns as I rush at you, The silver blade gleaming, and a heart that pounds With blood and fury and a thing so strange That it trembles my upraised and uncertain hand Glowing in moonlight as it falls upon your face. You do not move, I do not move And time stands still between us A cry issues from a mouth and I swear I know not whose The hunter and the hunted, caught in traps that they have laid, I stand a victor looking down Into your brown and hopeful eyes.
