The Poetry Marathon

Hour 21, Spirit Animal

Would that I could become my own totem,
a fantastical blend of all traits I admire
in one creature, new to the earth.

I would have the stoicism and steadfast strength
of the bear, shuffling through my days safe
in the certainty that none would challenge me.

The sleek speed in water of the otter
would also be mine, perpetually laughing
in delight at life itself, babes nestled close on my belly.

A golden retriever’s gentleness and loyalty
would belong to me, smiling with liquid brown eyes
in sweet puzzlement, devoted to my people.

Instead, what is left to me is to embody
all of these creatures and more, to be
the person I am meant to be, and love.

 

Writing’s on the wall (spectre)

So many of us are too engulfed in our own bubble of constriction to actually

take the time to read it. As the darkness begins to fade into the abyss,

you’ll see firsthand what makes your mor(t)ality the most valuable weapon

in your arsenal. With nothing left to lose, fear becomes an

abstract notion steeped in mythology. You’ll stop at nothing to win

in a game that’s long since been over. Persist, fight, make it worth

your while. Otherwise, you’ll suffocate on your own ennui

and fade into the background of oblivion. This is why we exist

and this is the reason we’ll never succumb to the

adversity fueled by false perceptions. You are

the master of your future and this is where

you begin to write it. Just make sure

there are no typos.

The Next Day

The next day
I find myself
Much the same
Only completely different
As the day before
So go the weeks
Months
Years of life
Past, present
Future
The big questions answered
Without much ado

(Post Marathon bonus, Book 99, #19339)

The Demise of Shere Khan

The dark green of the jungle cloaks my presence
Thick vegetation dampens the noise of my cries
My surroundings hide me in fear of what I could do
But I can’t move, my might suppressed by traps

The King of the Jungle, how far below I have fallen
The flesh that remains is desert dry and exhausted
My ember brown eyes have melted into a sesame
My once restless tail is now a glorified fly swatter

The monkeys cry in terror in the dark canopy above
I am idle for I am nothing more than an empty gun
Age has humbled my sight and my fur has faded
The shadows mock my rule and plan a coup d’état

The climax of my role as the apex predator has eroded my divine frame and left me hollowed
The cool, chocolatey earth below offers comfort as the soldier-like ants come to finish me off

It feels so good

It feels so good

 

To lie next to you, bodies warm

against the cool night air. We watch

the sky fade to gray and pull

the covers up to our chins and sigh.

Our cheeks flush with new warmth, and eyes

twinkle with sleep, then sky grows pink

and birds start to tweet and stars fade

away. But the moments of night remain.

21 – platypus

I splash, l dive, l tumble

swimming up the cool stream

my beak digging into mud,

foraging for a yabby lunch,

I nest in my burrow,

away from the sun

I am rather adorable

unique as they come

 

 

Vulpine Visit

In the twilight, yellow eyes catch the light
Spilling from the kitchen window into the garden.

Half in shadow, white-tipped brush stands alert
Watching for a hostile human leaving the house.

Through the fence posts, russet-gold pours itself
Travelling the wastelands on little fox feet.

 

Form: Unrhymed couplets

Prompt: Write a poem about an animal

The king of Jungle

When the mother lion gave birth to a cub
She pampered him in every possible way
She gave him food, shelder every passing day
Then the time came and she taught him to hunt
So he can do whatever he feels
She taught him that the jungle is his kingdom
But never failed to mention its his home too
Thats how she created the king of jungle
But also someone faithful to his home

prompt 26: Animkiig (Thunderbird) – aaand…a holla back to an older poem…two prompts in one!

Because I am a keener and because I am ready to fall over,  I have decided to pull two prompts together – I am replying to an earlier poem in this one about an animal that I have mentioned earlier.

 

animkiig

 

I have seen you wandering from here,

on your shores of slate-black lakes,

from this storm I call home

in the heart of lightning’s transformative medicine

where fire opens life

for seeds shut to all but heat…

like you.

 

be careful what you wish for.

you gazed into the centre

to learn teachings of butterfly.

now you know what transformation feels like,

my claws in the flesh of your left shoulder,

as I know how it feels to

touch the face of the sun to hear Creator’s voice.

 

because of my flashing eyes,

this world still dances with life

and you still dance, too.

 

what will you do with that gift?

 

I hear your prayers in the tobacco smoke,

echoing them in whispers

to Creator’s heart.

 

you’re welcome.

 

(c) r. l. elke

The Indian Majesty

His majesty incomparable.
He,is a paragon of musculinity,
but is tender with unfailing fidelity.
He breaks the stereotypes,
the ethereal black superiority,
Elephant.

But,what does he think?
Little do we think.

He dreams,
of violent trumpets,
of a muddy bath,
of caring their calves,
of a kingly wander in the forests.

We only think about ourselves,
never about them,
thus,they live,
in cages,in wood mills,in festivals.