THE MIDNIGHT HUNTER

By Charles Robert Lindholm

He’s Always Searching For Me
In The Wee Hours
Of The Night

Shroud

.

Echoes Mute and Transitory

Fleetingly Heard Upon the Breeze,

Mask Interminable Silence,

As Moans Escape the Beguiling Seas

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Midnight inspiration

Midnight petrichor
The earth calls me to her
and night-time takes me there
Sometimes my best words
come in the small hours
when I should be deep in slumber

Burnt Midnight (in collaboration with Sky Lanterns & Kendo Poet)

Beneath my eyelids
I am ugly
even in nakedness.
Calloused and vulnerable,
a raw replicate
of crooked lines
and potholes, filling
with the breath
of crusty love.

The night leaves a topsoil
of ecstasy to hide
time’s decaying wounds;
I am a plastic flower
on a wilted stem.
Don’t even say
the word
beauty.

Everyday Crush

Midnight and thinking of you before I sleep,

Sleep tight and you’re in my dreams.

Wake up and that dream is what I keep,

The day goes that’s just how it seems.

Lunch time and did you eat already?

My, do I think of you so much.

Just keep yourself healthy,

And smoking, stop doing such.

To-morrow never comes.

We live here in to-day.

To-day is with us now.

To-day will never leave us.

Yesterday was here for a while.