They would tell each other stories long after dusk
had fallen,
slice the cheese for charcuterie board
and turn on the lights,
it’s darker around this time of the year,
and the wind
makes strange sobbing sounds
as it sweeps over the valley, the kind that sends
chills down one’s spine—
this can’t just be a coincidence, can it?
The hills which divide the two remaining
tracts of the Irrawaddy basin
have ruby eyes,
like creatures of lost delight that gather,
do not wander too far into the mist,
you never know what you might find
the hills which divide
the two remaining tracts of the Irrawaddy basin
have ruby eyes,
there are probably a half dozen of them waiting
out there, staring from hollow height.
The swamps covered with flax and giant bulrushes
are often redeemed to the eye
by sheets of golden-plumed toe-toe,
a kind of pampas grass,
their silky flowering plumes offer an incantation
against goblins and ghouls alike,
do not fill your heart with greed,
for it becomes easier for them to feast upon,
the hills have ruby eyes,
from their clutches, let us pray, may we be safe.
You know such creatures exist, with long
tresses and roseate cheeks they entice,
the inverted crescent of their hips,
terrible beauty, that seeks to indulge one’s
deepest depravities,
most of them are females, it is said,
while minority of males quickly disappear
amid the trees
in the mist of early dawn,
hundreds of feet splashing through the mud—
we must explain this legend
to future generations, then, on these principles,
and not as an allegory of dawn
as dawn appears to civilized people,
the hills have ruby eyes,
would you adhere to the rules or plunge through?
Photo credits: Pinterest
Posted for Open Link Night #373 (Live Edition) @dVerse Poets Pub
20 Responses
A dark weaving of tales and myths here, Sanaa with judicious warnings against giving in to base desires – masterful…
Thank you so much, Andrew 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
I agree with Andrew, Sanaa, and I especially love the use of sound, ‘’the wind makes strange sobbing sounds’ and sight, the ‘ruby eyes’ and the ‘swamps covered with flax and giant bulrushes ‘. Haunting!
Thank you so much, Kim 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
Love this, and the strangeness of the myth also mixing images from around the globe and those hills with ruby eyes… maybe I do only see the dawn after all.
Thank you so much, Bjorn 😀 so glad the poem and its imagery appealed to you 💄❤️
This is gorgeous, Sanaa. I especially love this very original description:
“the inverted crescent of their hips”
Thank you so much, Shawna 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
in all the mystifying myth of mist and creatures of foggy terrors, there was this sound that gave it all a nice touch of pathos
“the wind
makes strange sobbing sounds
Thank you so much, Laura 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
A mingling of myth and horror, perfect for the season, Sanaa.
I especially liked
“it’s darker around this time of the year,
and the wind
makes strange sobbing sounds”—-ooooo!
Thank you so much, Merril 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
A great poem Sanaa. I love the idea of the hills having ruby eyes! the swamp creatures are rather sinister!
Thank you so much, Dwight 😀 so good to see you 💄❤️
Oh those ruby eyes! They will haunt me now.
The repetition really haunts this open. Well done.
Thank you so much, Kim 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
I imagined a sword and plunging through. I like how you quietly appeal to love by posing it’s opposite the horrors of creatures of deep depravity.
Thank you so much, Paul 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
This is a perfect mix of mythology and horror, Sanaa! Exquisitely woven. 💖💖
Thank you so much, Punam 😀 so glad the poem and its imagery appealed to you 💄❤️