Given below is a poem I wrote to break the writer’s block. I forced myself to write for 5 minutes and then spent 7 minutes updating it. Ready, Set, go
An eclectic collection of wild synergism
touted on blackened walls for cigar smoking gallery-goers.
Giant heads of antelope Gods that were once awake to mortal earth.
Now a priceless collection of the dead bearing grave witness to herds
of timeless gazelles flocked around a thinning lake under a Ponderosa pine.
These Artful even-toed antelopes outrunning a riled tiger; a mortal chase of the hunter and the hunted. Anything is game. Dust rises, dirt settles, a daily
test of brawn’s against keen feet. The winner wins life, the bloodied succumbs.
Smell of thorny trees and raw flesh drags its pungent feet across the forest in heat. Whilst the king of the jungle stretches for a sleepy reprieve tired of the macabre dance. The grass is too thin and dry to cloak life. The herds of antelopes have long since dispersed like the smell of prey in the wind. From a distance a sharp hunter fires his aim; eye of the tiger. Obliterating
traces of “how”, “when”, “what” and “if”. This is nature at its wildest, the winner wins life and the loser take its place on the wall; a prized possession.