Published in the Spring 2005 Edition of NOMADS CHOIR
Copyright ©2004 Roxanne Hoffman
The Slayer
The Slayer hunts his prey by day:
The monsters who murdered his wife and child and got away,
A pair of parasites whose ceaseless appetite for human flesh and bone
have turned the Slayer's already heavy heart to leaded stone.
Without a tear or fear left to blur his vision,
He seeks his prey with eagle-eye precision:
Each disappearance tracked and traced;
Each clue, each lead, each suspect chased;
Each detail double-checked, cross-checked and categorized;
Each street and alley scrutinized.
The Slayer hunts his prey by day
and will not rest until they lay,
limp and lifeless {evaporated} at his feet
for only then will his mission be complete.
And only then will his heart beat free again
so he can once more laugh and cry like other men.
April 26, 2004
Roxanne Hoffman
Hoboken, NJ
Copyright ©2004 Roxanne Hoffman
Dare I tell of demon spell?
of mirrors, I dare not pass,
for now, I face an empty glass,
where once, I graced
a splendid figure, now erased,
I peer, reflecting only space.
And yet, I see these haggard hands,
stretched out before me,
nails gnarled, bony knuckles cracked,
and their shifting shadow cast,
when thumbs linked with long fingers waving,
like a winged rat in flight.
Dare I tell of demon spell?
of window shades, I dare not raise,
where once I sat sunning,
and praised countless, cloudless, blue-sky days,
from which now I shrink, shunning
the sun’s scorching hellish blaze!
And yet, I yearn for light,
but must settle for the fleeting flickers
of imitation sun by way of
brass candles sticks and whale oil wicks.
©
Roxanne Hoffman 2001
Dare I tell of demon spell?
of late night walk,
and stealth-like stalk;
of fangs flesh rip,
with blood-stained lip;
of faces left as white as chalk,
and heavy heads slumped over,
with limbs, limp and lifeless,
dumped in shallow graves.
Dare I tell of demon spell?
of home’s sweet haven,
now choking, sunless, vaulted cell.
of Life’s-So-Lonely hell.
Dare I?
For who would listen to my complaint?
some noble patient saint?
or some slayer laying in wait?
for me to make some mistake,
and so tripped, trap me.
March 19, 2004
Roxanne Hoffman
Hoboken, NJ
Copyright ©2004 Roxanne Hoffman
©
Roxanne Hoffman 2001