Tops (-) Cages

As day turned to night
La luna appeared
And with her the castle across worlds
Coyoteking of gia
Rode an iron pony
Howling underneath her glow
Petroleum Chimp delivered his message
And Coyoteking was granted admittance
Into the castle across worlds
At the very top floor
Ravenmare appeared
And thus began his ninja training
Coyoteking watched in awe at the ave
Who pummeled a steel cage with hooved feet
Before peeling back the top with her razor beak
“Lesson 1” she sqwaked
“Tearing the tops off cages”
A visual display of freedom

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The Eagle Winged Wolf swooped
low
Into the den of Coyocat
Howling to his brother
“No longer a loner
You now part of the pak”
Coyocat looked with his back
Shrugged his shoulders
Yipping
“You said it
So it must be so”
The surface of the pond
The only witness
To Coyocats secret smile

Farmer Cat’s Fable

A farmer cat once looked at me
Could tell i had sumthin to ask
Before i could–she interrupted
And taught like she commanded a class

“For all students looking
to win the hearts of masses
Control of death
could be the 1st seed
Burn the idols of the false gods
who acquired power through blood n trickery
Implode the celestials with fire”

I looked at her
DEAD IN THE EYE
Cuz, she was fuckin crazy
But she wouldn’t shut up
Or so i thought
Took me a moment to realize
It was now i doin the talk

“So that’s when the Sun’s cuzzin Ray
shined upon the earth
And felt the little red giants
like bambinos burning in her image”

And same farmer cat once told me
(She heard it from a chick)

“From the ashes can sprout green
or anything in-between
Just depends on the party
controlin the humans
sowin the seeds”

Twin Wolves of the Self Who Wanted More

An elderly Seminole told his Grandson, “Son, there is a battle between two wolves inside us all. One is Chaos. He is anger, jealously, greed, resentment, inferiority, lies and ego. The other is Clarity. She is joy, peace, love, hope, humility, kindness, empathy, and truth.” The grandson pondered the story and asked, “Grandfather, which wolf wins?” The old man replied, “The one you feed.”

The boy found this answer unacceptable. He asked his Grandfather “Isn’t there a way to save both wolves?” His Grandfather laughed heartily and responded “I do not know. No one has ever tried.” “Then I will be the first,” replied the Grandson. “Son, Chaos is vile and untrusting, why would you want to tame a wolf like him when you could have one more obideiant?” “I am young Grandfather but even so I know the song of pain. Clarity is a fine wolf but without Chaos how would we come to appreciate her scent?” The Grandfather was deeply impressed by his Grandson’s answer, “Son, I am far too old to find the truth you seek, When you are ready you must find these answers yourself.”

On his 13th birthday, the boy was of age to become a man. Unafraid of the dark tales of Chaos and Untrusting of the righteous tongue of Clarity, he set off to the sacred mountains to seek an answer to his new dilemma. How to teach the two wolves to live in harmony. He climbed the mountain until the air became thin and his head as light as an eagle feather. Stopping to rest, he sat on the cool stone of the summit and thought deeply about the riddle. His body began to feel lighter and lighter until he looked down and realized he was no longer sitting on the summit but high above amongst the clouds.

Image created by R. Wright

Wolves of Lunacy: Chapter 1: Rise of the Ibex

Author’s Note-

The original WoL was lost when a technological virus destroyed the databanks of my Pavilion’s hard drive. It was an epic tale of war, oppression, and triumph. Since it’s death I have not been able to dig myself out of the ditch I created. The tale was like my offspring and having one of such magnitude slip away is akin to losing your expected child in its 9th month on the eve of delivery. It’s that serious. I want to be free of this curse and of this madness. This is just one desperate man’s attempt to recreate history and finally put his demon to rest. The fuku of the wolf is strong.

———————————————————-

In the time before man rose to dominance, the Earth was ruled by the beasts. Steadfast Stallions galloped the plains, dastardly dolphins skipped the seas, and the skies were full of murder. It was a season of purity, a time of myth and legend; it was the age of Tooth and Claw.

On a snowy mountain ridge south of the Great Ocean, through the mists of the Highland Hills and east of the Maverick Plains existed the land of Plenty. Being home to a diverse number of ecosystems, Plenty was a land of many tribes. The inhabitants of Plenty lived in harmony or as harmonious as a predator-prey relationship can get.  The herbivores grew up together like one extended family and predators from different tribes even teamed up at times to hunt big game. It was not uncommon to see lions dining with hyenas with vultures as the guests of honor. This commodore lasted for as long as anyone could remember. But like the seasons, the times were about to change and the dawn of a new age was highlighted by a shooting star.

The animals had no awareness of the catastrophe which was to happen but  the sky felt it’s atmosphere being seared apart by cosmic flame and the earth quaked in pain as the foreign object pounded into her. A curious cockroach was the first to approach the object. The cockroach tried to approach the cone shaped mystery but was unable to penetrate the thick aura surrounding it. Just then the horn began to speak. “Find me a strong body that can pick me up and to you I will bestow enough food for you and your family to eat heartily for the rest of your days.” The cockroach, having hundreds of children and a big, fat, wife needed no other motivation and fluttered away at once to find a someone strong enough to wield the horn.

His search led him into the ear of a grazing ibex. Whispering into his eardrum, the cockroach directed the ibex to the crash site where he found the cone shaped horn jutting out of the ground. The horn was impressed by the cockroach’s find and eagerly soothed the ibex into venturing closer. Closer, closer,” the horn whispered.

As the ibex lowered his head to the ground, the horn jump up and propelled itself into it’s skull. The cockroach scurried away not wanting to suffer the same fate as the ibex who now lay motionless on the ground. The day turned to dusk and the creatures of the night were beginning to stir. Two, lone, lion, brothers caught the scent of carcass in the air but a strange odor was befouling it. Not having eaten in weeks, the brothers did not have the luxury of being picky and decided to investigate the scent.

What they found next was beauty to their eyes. All by it’s lonesome, a fresh ibex carcass ripe for the picking. The brothers scurried to the carcass and sunk their salivating jaws into it’s hide. The ibex instantly jumped up to it’s hooves which startled the two brothers. After a brief moment of confusion, the brothers pounced at the ibex.

The ibex swiftly dodged, turned his back to the older lion, and kicked him clear across the field. The younger lion took advantage and sunk his claws into the ibexs side, trying desperately to drag him to the ground. The ibex bucked the young lion away and as the lion swung his mighty paw through the air, the ibex countered by goring him through the heart with his horns. As the young lion lay dying, the ibex stood over his body and stared intently at the other brother. Not with his natural born eyes however but the third one now growing from his forehead. The lion took a step forward to avenge his fallen brother but after gazing into the third eye of the ibex took two steps back, and another, and another, until he was running in the opposite direction. The cosmic horn which infused itself into the ibex had completed it’s transformation and was now in full control.

After filling his belly with the flesh of the lion, the ibex wandered back to his herd. His clansmen felt the change within him and forbade him from entering. When the ibex ignored their warning and advanced, the strongest males of the herd charged him. His third eye began to blink rapidly and in an instant, one by one,  all his herd dropped dead to the ground. The ibex looked at the chaos he created but it phased him naught fore he was no longer the same animal he once was before, testament to the Mal De Ojo now centered on his forehead.

From hence forth, tales of tragedy followed the ibex where ever he ventured from those that were lucky enough to survive his passing. He wandered the earth for many years, with each year his coat becoming more stained with the blood of his victims until no amount of water could return it from the ragged red to the splendid silver it once was. By this time, the rumors of the meat eating ibex had grown to legend and all the animals of the territories knew his description. All except the fortunate ones in the land of Plenty who’s high mountain ranges kept the outside dangers at bay. Except of course for a cherry coated ibex with evil intentions on the brain.