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Unfolded and Vulnerable

Unfolded and vulnerable

the orange jaguar prowls

in a land where vibrant

bristles mark the hours alone

Truly one of the rare sanctuaries

that man’s left alive-

to be victims of their

own volition; to be prey

only to themselves,

and to live the seasons that define,

much deeper than simply

day and night and wet or dry

 

To watch the shifting

of chameleons, blue, brown

speckled, grey-green, to nothing

apparent, but standing trees.

 

The cat mimics the lizard

morphing into shades of black

onyx glass-like properties

endemic to it’s kind…

 

This particular frozen

capsule of time, it hunts

for dinner, but many of his

other hunts are solely

to refine his skills in games

of play.

 

His methodology is

surgical in execution…as

easily he could have used

his mastery of stealth, but

ennui fluttered then in swarms,

so sportsmanship grew to be

his personal vitality.

 

Eyes pierce the underbrush, a soft

yet audible purr-growl quickly

spreads the incense made from the excretion of

pheromones, announcing the oncoming attack,

yet also

to attract a mate;

to congratulate him there, painting that

particular  eyespot, tunneling sights and

thoughts of only he, and her, together,

alone

after the moon funnels

past the horizon

creating a most amorous

crochet of  brush

and this, bearing the jaguar’s

idealized dream of coherent

touch; his imago, for which

he does, all that he has

every done.

Well, didn’t get all the words, but all the words in bold are members of this weeks Monday Melting, check out what the others have created, and while

enjoying all there is to read, why not try your hand at this prompt as well.

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About hobgoblin2011

I'm a poet and aspiring screenwriter/songwriter with a passion for film, art, photography, philosophy and heavy metal. I love reading, mainly non-fiction, comic books, graphic novels, myth and reference. Family always comes first for me. I'm a proud father to two wonderful pups and two curious cats. I'm also a glutton for punishment aka the life of being a diehard Buffalo Bills and Sabres fan.

5 responses »

  1. Love it. Especially: “where vibrant

    bristles mark the hours alone”
    And the idea of the moon “funneling” is brilliant, and beautiful.

    Reply
  2. Ooh, I like that opening: “Unfolded and vulnerable the orange jaguar prowls”

    And these:
    “victims of their own volition”
    “The cat mimics the lizard”
    “His methodology is surgical in execution”
    “Eyes pierce the underbrush”
    “a most amorous crochet of brush”

    I really like that you let the jaguar lead in this poem.

    For me, bolding or italicizing the words is distracting. It draws attention to them, which is the last thing you want to do. You want to make the reader forget you are writing for a prompt.

    Great job, Fred. You guys are so quick! It takes me ages to feel inspired to write for my own prompt. 🙂

    Reply
  3. You got enough of the words to create one hell of a story.
    http://leah-jamielynn.typepad.com where my poem is at.

    Reply
  4. The jaguar moves, Fred paints, and a tale unfolds. Enjoyed this!

    Reply

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