Bunch of sweaty bears…
Poetry by Vladimir Fischer
Photo by Oxana Lyashenko
“I was swallowed once…”
I can’t fake emotion
on the paper;
placing poems
true and clear
like drinking from the well
only the back is
terribly unguarded
from the vicious desert bear.
Those bears are
part of the inner fauna,
devouring the fear
and burping out the horrors
shaking strong foundations of the realm.
Awake at night
they hunt the tired artist
who got lost
following the words.
Colors on the brush
explode into
the universe on paper-
birth of a new dimension,
or the death of countless stars?
I was swallowed once
by the vicious desert bear
I slept inside his womb
cocooned like Luna moth.
I prayed and prayed,
and through the pain
my claws have grown
thus letting me escape.
A lesson of this story
is to grow the claws,
or grow some poems, art,
so when falling from the tree
they can breed, inspire, sprout
greater artifacts for a tired artist
following the evading word and thought.
Poetry by Vladimir Fischer
Tip
Thank you very much for any help!
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