The Nox Anthology - Dark Poets Against Abuse
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| Words of Darkness and Light In these works, a community of poets is speaking out to offer fellowship and catharsis to survivors of domestic and other abuse. The themes are dark and hard, but they are presented in the hope that by looking, unflinching, into the painful places of the soul, there will be greater awareness of the need for homes that are safe, and hearts that are nurtured. The poets and artists in this collection have donated their work, and to honor that gift a regular contribution is made to CASA (Community Action Stops Abuse), a safe haven organization for women and children survivors of abuse. __________________________________________________________________________________ |
Past
by Dylan Cowles
In a dream of dreams I see my father
Whole and healthy with long brown mane
Slowly he walks out of the room
Without a backward glance
He returns with white hair and beard,
Smiling a grin that is not his
The same man I never knew stands before me
I wake crying hysterically on mother's shoulder,
"I dreamed he was alive, but then he changed"
She doesn't speak only holds me
Tears come in a flood, the anger dam has broken
Finally broken
I walk outside and stare at our beautiful forest,
Sunrise framed perfectly in the background
My house is hugely majestic,
as if father and I had finished it
The way he had planned
Adding a whole new level to its roundness
I drift above the ground inspecting the changes
Suddenly I am aware
of the sheets crawling over me like vines
Her perfume is lovely, her body heat comforting
"You sleep as though trying to catch demons"
She whispers, then kisses me
I sigh, "I'm trying to catch my past"
copyright Dylan Cowles
by Dylan Cowles
In a dream of dreams I see my father
Whole and healthy with long brown mane
Slowly he walks out of the room
Without a backward glance
He returns with white hair and beard,
Smiling a grin that is not his
The same man I never knew stands before me
I wake crying hysterically on mother's shoulder,
"I dreamed he was alive, but then he changed"
She doesn't speak only holds me
Tears come in a flood, the anger dam has broken
Finally broken
I walk outside and stare at our beautiful forest,
Sunrise framed perfectly in the background
My house is hugely majestic,
as if father and I had finished it
The way he had planned
Adding a whole new level to its roundness
I drift above the ground inspecting the changes
Suddenly I am aware
of the sheets crawling over me like vines
Her perfume is lovely, her body heat comforting
"You sleep as though trying to catch demons"
She whispers, then kisses me
I sigh, "I'm trying to catch my past"
copyright Dylan Cowles
The Envy of All His Friends
by Jaime Lee Moyer
She saw the world in colors,
emotions and dreams
Rainbow sprites in constant flux,
Dancing round all those she met,
The heart of those she loved.
He never understood,
Blind to colors after
Years of roaming steel grey seas,
His need to be still
Rooted deep within.
She went with him anyway,
Blinded by his red desire,
The golden hunger for her none
Had ever shown before,
Certain that his cold heart
Warmed with each fevered embrace.
The envy of all his friends,
He spirited her away
With promises and honeyed words,
Locked her in an island tower,
Surrounded by mirror calm seas.
He never understood
Why she was never still,
Why she cried when
His need to fuck her body waned,
Replaced by a need to fuck her mind,
Why red carnations weren't
A substitute for passion -
Blind as he was to colors.
copyright Jaime Lee Moyer
by Jaime Lee Moyer
She saw the world in colors,
emotions and dreams
Rainbow sprites in constant flux,
Dancing round all those she met,
The heart of those she loved.
He never understood,
Blind to colors after
Years of roaming steel grey seas,
His need to be still
Rooted deep within.
She went with him anyway,
Blinded by his red desire,
The golden hunger for her none
Had ever shown before,
Certain that his cold heart
Warmed with each fevered embrace.
The envy of all his friends,
He spirited her away
With promises and honeyed words,
Locked her in an island tower,
Surrounded by mirror calm seas.
He never understood
Why she was never still,
Why she cried when
His need to fuck her body waned,
Replaced by a need to fuck her mind,
Why red carnations weren't
A substitute for passion -
Blind as he was to colors.
copyright Jaime Lee Moyer
painting copyright Malcolm Deeley
Curse of the Werewolf's Wife
by Bruce Boston
By the time the moon
is replete and brimming
and his transformation
is complete, she has
prepared herself accordingly
with liner and with shadow,
a touch of rouge upon each cheek,
the barest gown to accentuate
her vulnerability beneath.
This time she spends
before her mirrors is used
to bait his awful needs,
to sate his raging appetite
and hold him safe within
her arms while others
of his fated breed
are driven forth by hunger
to roam the night town streets.
Each time the madness
in his eyes is captured
by her artistry, she endures
a dreadful ritual of rape,
she tastes his lupine breath,
she knows that now familiar
scent so animal and sweet,
the heavy musk which fills
the air to saturate her dreams.
by Bruce Boston
By the time the moon
is replete and brimming
and his transformation
is complete, she has
prepared herself accordingly
with liner and with shadow,
a touch of rouge upon each cheek,
the barest gown to accentuate
her vulnerability beneath.
This time she spends
before her mirrors is used
to bait his awful needs,
to sate his raging appetite
and hold him safe within
her arms while others
of his fated breed
are driven forth by hunger
to roam the night town streets.
Each time the madness
in his eyes is captured
by her artistry, she endures
a dreadful ritual of rape,
she tastes his lupine breath,
she knows that now familiar
scent so animal and sweet,
the heavy musk which fills
the air to saturate her dreams.
By the time they awaken
he will be a man once more,
who remembers not a moment
of his brief and brutish spree,
who will glance in stray amazement
at the bruises on her flesh,
the blood upon the sheets,
as he begs her forgiveness
in a voice which makes her weep.
But time will prove her enemy
in spite of all he's said,
the constant cycles of the moon
will turn upon her once again,
and when her slender limbs
have begun to lose their grace,
and when her beauty flees,
what spell will tame this beast
who nightly shares her bed?
copyright Bruce Boston
he will be a man once more,
who remembers not a moment
of his brief and brutish spree,
who will glance in stray amazement
at the bruises on her flesh,
the blood upon the sheets,
as he begs her forgiveness
in a voice which makes her weep.
But time will prove her enemy
in spite of all he's said,
the constant cycles of the moon
will turn upon her once again,
and when her slender limbs
have begun to lose their grace,
and when her beauty flees,
what spell will tame this beast
who nightly shares her bed?
copyright Bruce Boston
| ______________________________________________________________________________________ We thank the contributors of the works on this page, and ask readers to respect their rights. Please do not reproduce or distribute any poetry or artwork displayed here without permission. __________________________________________________________________________________________________ |
Jaime Lee Moyer lives next to a river in the wilds of Ohio. She writes books and stories as well as poetry,
assisted by two warrior kittens who help her chase the Muse. In her spare time, she is the Poetry Editor for
Ideomancer Speculative Fiction. On most days, she can honestly say life is good. Her poetry has appeared
in numerous online and printed magazines, and her poem, Once Upon a Time, was nominated for a 2006
Rhysling Award.
assisted by two warrior kittens who help her chase the Muse. In her spare time, she is the Poetry Editor for
Ideomancer Speculative Fiction. On most days, she can honestly say life is good. Her poetry has appeared
in numerous online and printed magazines, and her poem, Once Upon a Time, was nominated for a 2006
Rhysling Award.
Dylan Cowles lives in Florida, where he tours with his band Kosmik Egg. He is the
award-winning writer/composer of the short film Vice Verses. More of his work may
be viewed at his website: myspace.com/kosmikegg.
award-winning writer/composer of the short film Vice Verses. More of his work may
be viewed at his website: myspace.com/kosmikegg.
Bruce Boston has received the Bram Stoker Award, a Pushcart Prize, the Asimov's
Readers' Award, and the Grand Master Award of the Science Fiction Poetry Association.
He is the author of forty books and chapbooks, including the novel Stained Glass Rain,
and his newest poetry collection, Shades Fantastic. Bruce lives in Ocala, Florida, with
his wife, writer-artist Marge Simon. For more information, please visit his website:
http://hometown.aol.com/bruboston.
Readers' Award, and the Grand Master Award of the Science Fiction Poetry Association.
He is the author of forty books and chapbooks, including the novel Stained Glass Rain,
and his newest poetry collection, Shades Fantastic. Bruce lives in Ocala, Florida, with
his wife, writer-artist Marge Simon. For more information, please visit his website:
http://hometown.aol.com/bruboston.
| ________________________________________________________________________________________ Visit the Community Action Stops Abuse Website Visit the Gromagon Press Home Page |