Monday, 11 of December of 2017

Tag » Grizzly bear

Lone Cone – Seeing Bear

Charter_Fishing_Veiw

bear is the forest
 
 
Walking Petersburg Creek, the Tlingit’s Seetkab Heenuk’w,
across the Wrangel Narrows from the mud-flat sloughs of

Mitkof Island, hiking a seldom-used wilderness trail
I pass the last cabin, last sign, last mark on the map

and come upon brown steaming mounds of berry scat,
piles of gutted humpies, half-chewed, fins still twitching.

Through skunk cabbage rank with growth and devil’s club
waiting in ambush, its honed thorns prickly with menace,

I skirt innocent gooseberries, expecting the worst,
prepared around each bend for some dark hulk swatting fish

and the ultimate terror of Ursus arctos horribilis.
Thick groves of old growth soak up light and squeeze out

shapes, the stab of strange limbs, flicker of breeze.
No quick exit out this maze of Sitka Spruce

tangled arctic bog, muskeg carnivorous with quivering
insects caught in the sundew’s last embrace.

A hundred humped shadows leap out at me from the brush,
startled, hungry, rearing up on hind legs, head-high

and higher, murder growling in their fierce gaze.
So near I can smell their panic wild as fish breath.

Lost in this still untamed Alaskan bush where two-leggeds
anima-bearhave no more weight than the meat they carry on their bones,

puffing a tin whistle like a webelo,
clapping hands, singing out of dread not joy,

I keep seeing the hundred hids of Death,
its snout hairy, fangs bristling, about to attack.

Bruin gone berserk and bounding towards me.
Slashed muscle, the snapped arm ripped from its socket.

Claws long as Bowie knives. Eyes like smoking volcanoes.
To run or play dead? Its bulk crushing me into the earth.

Seeing hot flash my whole life engraved on a salmonberry
ground to pulp in the molars of a steel-trap jaw.

I meet no one walking that trail, neither grizzly nor rabbit,
not even a deer munching lichen.

The air is crisp, clouds huddled against nameless peaks.
Perhaps for the first time in my life

I am alone with the dark shape of
myself.

Lone Cone Free Poem
May-June 1998 Earth First!


Dennis Fritzinger – Back Scratch Bears

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bears bears bears bears
griz
has a favorite tree
4845507820_5a7bf84eee_othey snuffled thru leaves, they climbed up the stairs
he likes
to scratch his back on.
they stuck up their muzzles and lifted their ears
late at night
when no one
to hear poems composed about some of their peers
is watching.
tree doesn’t mind.
there were spirit and teddy bears lurking about
tree is
a little bit honored
polar and panda and sun bears no doubt
the king of the forest
has chosen it
dream bears and cream bears mothers and cubs
for a back scratch.
all this is recorded
and thirsty bears finishing off syllabubs
by the watchful eye
of the camera,
they fished and ate berries ate berries and fished
set to music
and broadcast
they haunted our minds till they got what they wished
on the internet,
where such things
a world in which humans and bears both reside
happen
easily.
the way that we used to and that’s side by side
go griz!
you have millions
i know that i heard them as they left by the stairs
of fans now,
even if you don’t know it.
that’s bears bears bears bears


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