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Night Owl Poetry – Dorinda Duclos

~ "The silence of the night awakens my soul"

Night Owl Poetry – Dorinda Duclos

Tag Archives: man

She Bends like a Reed – #poetry

03 Thursday Dec 2020

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in Poetry

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

#poetry, ballerina, dance, dorindaduclos.com, freedom, love, man, Night Owl Poetry, poems, writing


She bends like a reed, in a summer breeze

Caught in the balance, arms stretched, with ease

Hair flowing gently, as her head tilts awry

The look on her face, says she set her sights high

She is able to move, with such elegant grace

While the look in his eyes, is the only trace

Of a love, so possessive, he wants her, his own

Yet, she wants no part, so he leaves, quite alone

For he knows it’s not him, and it will never be

She is tied to no man, the dance sets her free.

 

©2020 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Image by Mystic Art Design from Pixabay

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The Blame – #poetry of an #owl

07 Saturday Nov 2020

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in Poetry

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

#poetry, careless, danger, dorindaduclos.com, fire, forest, forest fire, human, man, nature, Night Owl Poetry, owl, poems, writing


The night falls
More quickly these days
In silence,
Draped in a choking haze

Outside, an owl
Screeches my name,
What is he saying?
What does he claim?

That I took the stars
And blackened the sky,
Says the moon doesn’t shine
And he wants to know why

Hear his cry,
Ear splitting, so unnerved
Surely this raptor
Is somewhat perturbed

Still I cannot see,
What he sees, in the dark
An ebony field,
Laid barren and stark

From the one thing
That has forsaken his land
The strike of a match,
By a human hand

He has lost his home,
His place to hide
His family, no longer
By his side

Taken down in a hail
Of smoke and flame
The owl, he weeps,
And I am to blame…

 

Author’s Note: Seven new large fires were reported 11/5/2020, three in Idaho, two in Kansas, and one each in Minnesota and Montana. Nationally, 36 large fires have burned 2.8 million acres. (source: National Interagency Fire Center).  Before you flick that lit cigarette, or leave a campfire unattended and burning, think about how many lives you could be destroying, both wild and human.

©2020 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Image by Jean van der Meulen from Pixabay
Image by Ylvers from Pixabay
Combined by me

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Dangerous Devices – #poetry – #JulyWriting

06 Saturday Jul 2019

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in July Writing, Poetry

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

#JulyWriting, #poetry, #poetrycommunity, dangerous, death, devices, dorindaduclos.com, fooled, man, Night Owl Poetry, out of time, poems, time, writing, writing prompt


She sits and waits for your arrival

While contemplating her survival

A timepiece dangles from her hand

Another day, so carefully planned

Many before you, now mere ashes

Simply because she bats her lashes

And crosses a leg, shows some skin

Yes, this, is where her wiles begin

So easily fooled, you common man

Though try you must, you never can

Free yourself from her dangerous devices

At what cost, and will you pay such prices?

Think twice, before you dare respond

Else wind up like the others, far beyond

 

July Writing Prompts – Dangerous devices – Day 6/31

©2019 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay

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Human Extraction ~ #SpeculativeFiction #WritingPrompt

03 Friday May 2019

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in Speculative Fiction Writing Prompt

≈ 35 Comments

Tags

dorindaduclos.com, electricity, fire, flame, human, man, metal, Myths of the Mirror, Night Owl Poetry, robot, smoke, speculative fiction, unfeeling, welded, writing, writing prompt

Diana, of Myths of the Mirror has a new feature on her blog called, “Speculative Fiction Writing Prompt.”  Please visit the link above to find out more about the challenge, then join in the great fun!

Only yesterday he was himself, quite human, a regular guy, who had everything he needed. Today, things had changed. He awoke to a deafening noise, the sounds of gears turning, and electric pulses, the likes of which created a spark and flame about him. He laid as still as could be, afraid to make the slightest move. It was then he realized the noise was coming from him. He sat up, barely able to straighten himself. Something was blocking his movements, and it was something unnatural, this much he knew.

Looking at his arm, he saw what he thought were robotics, in a gleaming gold, running down to his wrist. In between, wires of some sort, held the pieces together. Parts of his arm were missing, but he felt no pain.

“I must be dreaming”, he thought to himself.

Trying not to move too quickly, he adjusted his head to gaze at his torso. Metal plates made their way down one side of him. His entire right side was now gone, pieces of his flesh no longer appeared where they should. Instead, he had become a robot, a monster in his own eyes. His eyes. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He could feel a heaviness on his face and could only conclude part of his face had also been changed. Damaged. He was no longer human. He was a freak. A mechanical freak. But why?

“Wake up, stupid!” He tried to will himself out of this nightmare.

But it wasn’t a nightmare. It was all real. During the night, the invaders had found him and taken him over. He had only heard of them through stories told by the old ones. Usually, he’d just slough it off as nonsense, but now he realized he should have listened more carefully. The question was what could he do about this predicament?

The electricity he was emitting was causing the room to flame. Smoke and fire surrounded him, as if he was being welded together….and he was. He couldn’t see them, but he knew they were there. His only saving grace was he couldn’t feel anything.

And he wondered, had he always been this way…

 

©2019 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Pixabay image by Brigitte Werner

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My Curiosity ~ #poetry

22 Monday Apr 2019

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in Poems, Poetry

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

#poetry, boat, dorindaduclos.com, man, Night Owl Poetry, poems, river, stalking, stranger, sunset, wind, writing


I watch him row, against fiery light
Just a silhouette, of a man, in a boat
Moving his paddles, left and right
On the calm river waters, he floats

I wonder, has he a care in the world
Or is he trying to escape, from the past
The fronds about him blow, unfurled
Still, he remains this silent outcast

Each night, it’s the very same thing
He rows by, while the sun starts to set
Sometimes, I think I hear him sing
But most likely, it’s the wind’s quartet

Rustling through the broken air
Creating just enough sound to be heard
Unlike the man in the boat, unaware
My curiosity of him, he has stirred

 

©2019 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0

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