Bears Emerge from Dens
suet feeders in danger
like vultures they circle
angry birds waiting for
me to fill feeder
The catfish are all biting, while avoiding the lure.
They cruise along the floor, seeking only their cure.
Slowly they move to gather, in position to consume.
When they quickly strike their prey, then leave the room.
On land, they are deceptive, towards others in the game.
While in water, they're beneath most, avoiding the fame.
Here they seem content, swimming along the silt and muck.
Devouring the bottom dead, as they feed to finally suck.
Yet they occasionally make mistakes, & find an irresistible hook.
Becoming another's catch, cleaned to filet, before they cook.
Grazing upon my hide,
lumbering,
ravenous beasts
farm,
crop, and munch upon
the harvest rich-fields
of my squamous integrum.
The dermatologist tells me not to worry,
that it’s just the normal microscopic
fauna and flora.
They clean away the dead,
vacuuming-up
the desiccated debris
and dander.
“We are not snakes” he says,
“we need help to shed.”
I can’t help thinking of those millions
of par-blind,
pig-like,
tank-shaped organisms
forever thriving,
feasting,
and then they themselves
decaying
upon my skin,
and they all-unknowing
that they are
most definitely not
the greatest creatures
ever to have roamed the earth!
Instinctual animalcules
constantly changing
the density
of the shadows I cast,
the thickness of my shedding.
Mites nibbling away at my silhouette,
until either it seems to be
far too heaped and corporal,
or way too transparent
to be seen in strong sunlight.
A celebration was held by the Angels,
Heavenward late yesterday night.
And hide from the moon spirit labels,
Eyes staring in the twilight as first light.
They needed to escape animosity,
And stay away from bitter anger.
They took a dim moon with velocity,
I held my fun back with a sharp clangor.
The moon and heavenly body in the rearview,
They inspire a mad dash for the host star.
I am in the spirit realm of my bare gyps too,
Join the sun club and cross where you are.
Watch out for brimful smiles and sharp gazes,
How to hypnotize where sun is in a saffron blaze.
Straight hair and a toned body were striking,
It erodes and dulls, you can't view a liking.
A wicked beast hunts humans for their flesh,
She will do it again and the tale will start afresh.
Nobody was aware of her murderous tally,
Hundreds may have fallen into an alley.
And, as you slept quietly in that stance,
She sneaks into the kitchen, sing, and dance.
A steak knife was used to cut the meat,
She will slice your neck and kill you with conceit.
Written: October 15, 2022
Captivation Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Julia Ward
Bottom Feeders
Trump thinks that he is hot to trot;
A sinister, atrocious always sought;
We saw first putt;
From team got cut;
Bottom feeders are all he ever caught.
Her last name is Goldberg. Do you
remember rest of her name?
Jim Horn
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