Fall Leaves Cast Into The Whispering Wind by H.L. Dowless - HTML preview

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Fall Leaves Cast Into The Whispering Wind


by H.L. Dowless



































Poems 1-15: The Raven’s Herald pg. 1-21

Poems 15-30: Dance Of The Black cats pg. 21-39

Poems 30-45: Phantom Of The Pantomime pg. 39-55

Poems 45-60: My Flowers To Jeanie pg. 55-74

Poems 60-75: My Revelation pg. 74-91

























The Raven’s Herald



Those voices on the wind doth speak,

offering forth their unwanted words of instruction,

speaking in meanings designed to render my resisting will weak,

compelling me deeply into their dark seduction.



“Behold thee mortal,” saith one in a wheezing whine,

“we cometh unto thee like a force that one may never comprehend,

for it is us who ride into our Stygian assent. Feel the power of the dark nine!

From our demands ye may never make an amend.

Bow unto our will in humble submission or forever pine

for you peaceful attends!”


“I hath sworn by oath to resist,” said I unto the winds.

“Unto thy will, I may only reply in my own demand

for thee to move away from me and on into other ends,”

I replied unto the unseen presence that felt closest at hand.

“Fine,” replied the voice back toward my spill, “Have it as you will, then.”



The following day as I carried on in my usual way,

the supervisor called me back into the office, appearing not at all too happy,

informing me of my termination as of mourning on that very day.

Upon my inquire as to the reason why, his only response was rather shabby,

telling me only that it was his choice to terminate, was the final say.



Three days later whilst I and the family was away at labor,

four thieves pulled up into my drive in place,

kicking in my door in search of items to pander,

compelled by their addictions to occultist herbs in multiple ways.



“ Dost thee now not feel compelled to attend unto our demands

for thy participation in the ways of dark sin,” inquired the seventh

voice upon the wind?



“No not now nor ever,” I replied.

“Move on from me unto another,

bother him with your evil compulsions that make him bitter

in your despise.

What so ever it is that you choose to do,

just leave me be,” I replied.

“Very well,” the voice whined, when there is blame for misfortunes anew,

then the only one to hold responsible is you.



Some nine days later I get a notated call

for me down at the police station,

from where I was directed into a dark hall

toward an isolated room for interrogation.

So it appeared, some unnamed demon possessed damsel

had accused me of that base offense engendering extreme repudiation.

Though I immediately inquired as to her name, but still

I was blatantly denied that right or knowing since there existed no

binding declaration.

There is no benefit in shedding tears,

as I was so crassly informed,

the penalty here for your crime is more than ten years...!



So here it is that I sit in sulk and weary misery

as I wallow in chains on the cold damp dungeon floor.

Still I hold dear my forthright soul and deep inside my spirits are coarsely cheery...,

even though my mortal feet may never walk among the gardens of men no more...































Down At The Old Mid-Way



Tonight is the night,

my desire shall have it's own way,

the one still standing with the most might

shall carry the greatest sway.

I am here to tell you boys that the bonfires will surely be a burning

down at the old Mid-Way!





Yea, the burgers there are cooking well

and the lasses are all a smoldering hot.

The latest chili is our best sell


but hell..., sometimes that's all we've got,

down at the old Mid-Way.


The fried chicken can make a trucker smile,

the rice and gravy goes down well on such a fine day.

So come right on in and sit with us a while,

down at the old Mid-Way!



Old Hank Williams is a playing on the Juke box

down at the old Mid-Way.

A shotgun and a pistol is all that the keeper has got

to bear his weight,

on this fine sunny day

down at the old Mid-Way.



The whiskey peddlers are arriving

down at the old Mid-Way.

The schemers are all conniving,

their will to be enforced as it may.

I tell you boys, just as sure as the sun is going down,

there is gonna be a big fight tonight

down at the old Mid-Way...



Soon the bonfire is a roaring out back,

the johns are all a scoring in their sacks;

the pig is a roasting on the rack,

the howling wolves are a gathering in their packs,

down at the old Mid-Way.



The lightning is a flowing thickly tonight,

down at the old Mid-Way.

Duke just put a razors edge on his Barlow knife;

last light it caused four to fall hopelessly into their lonesome woods grave

down at the old Mid-Way.



Seven jumped Duke and JR in this brawl.

Duke ripped one more twice with his razor edged knife,

whilst all of the others had a free-for-all,

down at the old Mid-Way.



The schemer poured gallons of blood

before his body hit the floor..;

from his gut blood squirted like water from a hose in a flood,

and none of the rest wanted any more

on this night

down at old Mid-Way.
































The Weight Of Years



Time knoweth not any strangers.

Unto those who lie and think that he has forgotten,

their bodies and minds may continue on in silent danger,

until the very best he has been allotted.



Thus do ye feel the dryness in thine eyes?

This feeling should accompany the one in thy hair.

Do ye feel the morning stiffness in thy thighs?

These feeling are all a part of the timeless game, so please don't despair.

All of these feeling shall intensify with every coming sunrise.



Does thy mind dwell on those past times divine,

when all of life's experiences were adventurous and good?

Do ye consistently find thyself always for those days a pining,

longing for those glory days lost where ye and all others understood

that life was meant to be lived for the thrills and glory of simply being alive,

savoring the very best of times that dear sunlight would afford?

If so then get on immediate alert,

for thy weighted defeat shall soon be thy only reward.



Very soon the burden of the years

shall crumple the body and weaken the limbs,

installing those imposing assumptions and unverified fears.

Then the mind shall choose to dwell in a more pleasant time when

that period of great misunderstanding nears.



So young one, count thy merry blessings as ye pass life though,

live life to the fullest, without jeopardizing the pleasantries of thy future.

Thrive in ye victories and thrills all anew,

for the weight of the years certainly has ye in it's indenture.

The weight of time will finally upon ye


forever removing thy presence from all surrounding, without mend;

so live life with fresh eagerness anew!.











A Bohemian Sabbath Night




A pig in a mud puddle,

a star in a soap bubble,

and a fiddler up on a stage that we all knew.



A walking stick, a doomed staggering swagger

and three merry old mamas too!

A jug of gin

and we all are going to win,

that's us two and

three mamas to boot!

The music ringing loudly,

as the merry maker sings so proudly

and that great big old booty bounces with a toot!

The clear liquid 's a pouring

while the poor boys are all a whoring,

and the three great big booties all get naked

to the gala tune of the Persian flute.



The bohemian beauties are all a curtsying,

a bowing with a gliding swing.

The fiddle is hailed by their vagabond majesty

with the hexing song that she doth sing.



My high Texas doll is a panting 'n a pinning,

a lookin' so persuasively divine,

as the gypsy fiddle sways

her fickle mind into staying.



The harvest moon is now nowhere to be found;

damn..., my tin cup of blue gin is in my way!

With my right hand I unbutton her delicate drifter's gown

as I break her nude body down there in the fresh hay

without even the slightest of fight,

even to my own astonishing dismay

on this bohemian Sabbath night.








The Bantam Nymphet



A dame she was

a tainted dame,

her luscious body painted on the party dress just the same,


her determined will refused their outdated girdles and the bras.



Her smile was broad,

her demeanor ecstatically uncultivated.

Her lips were painted deep mauve,

her purple tongue seemed to cheerfully navigate them.

Her near intoxicated laugh was giddy as she pranced

toward my chrome plated Mustang, dancing a harlots' diddle.



Her dress was near mist from the middle down

to just above her knees.

“You had better show me a good time tonight boy

and let me do as I please,”

she would say wearing a fake frown falsely cast,

only to betray her own lie with a whacked out laugh.



We then motored toward the beach to feel the surge of the waves.

We both did savor good meats down by the stony sea caves.

We thought that it was very fine to indulge the very best in wine.

The joys found by the thrill of the beach dance caused

the passing of time to seem so soon....



By the beach on a towel we both lay totally nude

neath the cozy glow of the midnight moon.

First from behind she doth allow me to intrude,

we both embracing in rhythm to a natural tune.

Then from the front I ventured forward

like a possessed wolf on the hunt,

natures rhythm becoming intense as I moved toward

that most perfect place.


The night faded wane as my body grew weary,

so we chose to stand tall as she walked forward,

her form remaining rigid as her head neared my waist;

The jaunting was incessant until that smile pleasured her face.

So then

we both did hungrily

embrace once more again.

Both of our hearts remaining cheerie,

a hoping that the moon would never end.



As the orange sun did commence to arise;

the trip toward home

our lust for new thrills did despise.

She seemed to care not that her Father demanded her back,

so we paused at the end of a time honored dirt road path,

carrying our beach towels and walking the old railroad track.


We were headed toward our home town and the time

was only the rise of nine,

so we both longed to enjoy more conversation and the wine.

It took me some time but I convinced her to cut me some slack,

so that I could just ease that misty dress up

and give her one more lusty attack!



































Unto Our Grand Kingdom




Morning delight,

the dishes are all cleaned white

to my dear Mother's delight.

The food I knew to be really good,

just as it surely would,

no matter what be the holiday

or weather the jesters ever understood.



The grand kingdom is fair,

I shall loudly declare;

for the fool is now gone,

his tainted rule once so wrong.

For the blood of the luminary before us reigns supreme,

possessing boundless wisdom it doth seem,

purging the entire land of that tainted hand,

relegating that memory into the waste bin of bad dreams.



Hale to the angels in heaven who rejoice

like playing children in company of new toys!

For our mortal reclaim

shall assign proper blame

to the fool and his reign of tin boys!

The ridiculous fool could only whine and pout,

but he sold us all out,

to both the dragon and the hag

a flying her green sickle bag!

The blood of the luminary was most grand,

for he reconquered our once great land;

Now we posses freedom for the wealthy,

and the best of fine wine to keep the downtrodden poor healthy.















Herald From The Crow




My thoughts drift at times back to my wild woods home,

back to the lush fields of those enterprising elders

and my time gathering from the wood stands alone.

Oh where did those times of yore go, only to be replaced by helter

skelter and the diluted blood of those wretched dingoes.

Whilst the lush fields and trees have been turned asunder

the demons have declared the statement, woe

unto thy superlative blood.



I behold the mighty wasting drain in the raging thunder

and the future pain of their merciless plunder

of our once cherished resources by that vain alie