Skip to main content

The Man of Wrath by Caroline Tiss

 The Man of Wrath by Caroline Tiss

He ran, 

The man of wrath 

Coiled did the flame flicker at his brawny hands,

Who was the martyr? 

Who was the victor?

Perhaps it was beyond his reasoning,

Or could it have been at his hand that the dog which stalked him at midnight was slain,

The blood was red and without reasoning,

Animal, Anima, Animus

Where does it end?



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Deceit poem by Caroline Tiss

  Deceit  To claim that you "cannot deny" is false. People can deny anything they want, and they continue to. You could deny yourself into an absolute and utter lie, You deny yourself into deceit and I will not be there to catch you if you fall, A wolf in sheep's clothing is much worse than no wolf at all. 
Post a Comment
Read more

The Sun Journal Entry - Caroline Tiss 7/30/2022

The Sun - Caroline Tiss   A child, a lover, a girl. Seventeen yet so surreal. I want to rise with this day dawning. The morning arises with the cracking whip of dawn, like lightning, like the fading of summer into an autumn chill, announcing the presence of her magnificence, Look upon the sun, Ask him what's his name? How long has it been since he has faced the terror of his past. Woman at his side, walking on glass. Years pass, she's torn between her lover and all she wants and more. Can we simply stop? Let us find what makes us satisfied. We are only as balanced as we become, and even then anything can change. So Swiftly, you would hear everything Cry and Bleed. So please, Look at yourself and all of the mess that we've become. You are not lost. But all is at stake. So love it or leave it, Drink it or beat it, Hate me or call me a Heathen. I do not give a damn. But look at what you have created. Please don't deny it. Just observe, think please. Don't listen to any...
Post a Comment
Read more

Witch's World by Caroline Tiss

 Witch's World I gaze into glass, like a ship on a misty night Let me dance on drops of morning dew one balmy day in June, I love the romance of it all, I am the crashing of thunder, I am the quaking of the earth as stampedes of stallions run by Ireland's horizon, I believe, I hope, I dream I am the lonely London fog, I am quiet in the twilight. The day has just begun. Aurora, Aurora, Aurora, my love.  
Post a Comment
Read more