Blood Moon

This piece is offered in response to prompt Mag 25 at Magpie Tales,
prompt #13 at We Write Poems,
and the August 2nd prompt at Big Tent Poetry.




Blood Moon

•

icy round
the wolf’n eye
soft and round
the riding breast
roundness
in the grande dame’s fear
a circle round
the blood moon’s crest

there are lies
within that circled moon
that surround
this cruel charade
they gather
and collect the tears
‘til midnight’s debt
is fully paid

‘til innocence
is found to want
and purity
so deep defiled
that cold and soulless
lupen eyes
will cleave the sweet
in red and wild

and all that once
was tender
will on this night
turn beastly raw
and guilted
hearts be locked away
to deny at dawn’s light
the truth they saw

• • •

rob kistner © 2010

44 thoughts on “Blood Moon”

  1. Oh…. i love that! i love the darkness, the cold, the cruel biting fear of the night. I love those dark poems, and have tried to recreate several times myself! WOW! i love! i got one called SHADOW thats dark too. check it out if ya like!

  2. Dark indeed Rob. I enjoyed where this prompt took you. Is that really a wolf’s eye? So different from a dog eye. This one looks more like a cat. Just wondering. Neat to include the moon in this–the blood red moon–such an image!

    1. Thank you Peggy, I am pleased you enjoyed this… 😉

      The eye surfaced in a search for wolf eyes, and I liked its other-worldliness. In this poetic tale, it is the eye of our wolf’n predator, thus adding to the mystery…

      …rob

  3. I like this very much, Rob. You should try verse more often. Love the image too. Also liked Stan’s idea of Vincent Price!

    1. Thank you Derrick! I dabble occasionally with rhyme — but it does not spark my fire most of the time… ever since Stan suggested Vincent’s voice, I hear it over and over, reading the cadence of the piece. as only he could have…

      …rob

  4. Rob, I find so much here, it’s hard to pick out one or two things to speak into. This seems to be a reflection on the Red Riding Hood tale, the wolf, the unaware child, and the moon looking on and shedding a tear for what can so easily happen in the deep forest that has come to represent the shadow in each of us. I can hear it read in the wise voice of an old crone, stirring her pot as she bends over a fire, mesmerizing the young ones who have crept close to hear, to listen, and to learn.

    Thank you,

    Elizabeth

  5. I love how bloody, wanton, and dark this reads. I especially like your connection between eye and breast, and how your short, detail packed lines draw the reader into the darkness. I enjoyed reading this.

    -Nicole

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