HEG George

Once Was A Killer - Poem by HEG George

I stand, waiting, out of the dappled sun light.
Listening to the hollow timpani that is my
stomach, the adrenalin coursing
through my chest, telling me 'its time'

My neuronal switch 'clicks'. I am no longer
inert, I am hunter. I have smelled the air
and read its menu. I have stretched life
back into my stagnant limbs

The smell is strong, close. A young doe
stands on the edges of her grazing family.
Young, healthy, unseasoned. When I pounce she
will Freeze. Making the kill easy. She will be easy

I stifle a memory. I have lost so many on the hunt.
Sometimes, I get too close and they scream, causing
agitated stares, that force me back. Back to my

Twenty tries since my last kill. Twenty times I have salivated at
the thought of my hunger being satisfied. My preening delayed,
like a peacock whose feathers no longer meet the expectation of
a mating ritual.

Slowly. Slower than slowly. Time no longer exists for me,
or for my kill. I skulk, each foot testing its ground before
being planted down. Hips sway low from side to side,
like an exotic dancer. Both of us earning our living.

My heart rips through my own blood, ejaculating it into a
bursting surge. Now is the moment. There will be no other
moment. I lunge, connecting with flesh. Soft flesh. Power pulls my victim to the ground. I smell the sweet sweet smell of metallic ooze, dripping slowly, like molasses from a wooden spoon.
I hold my kill, turn and drag her away

Her family still graze, unaware of their loss. Unconscious of
my facile victory. Time soon enough to savour their haunted calls

And what of my kill? Picked up like so much road kill. Just another unsolved
homicide to add to my growing file. And what of me? I am once more content
to wait for another sound to grow deep within my soul. For I am Tiger, Hunter.
I am God!

Topic(s) of this poem: death, hunting, murder, tiger

Form: Free Verse

Poet's Notes about The Poem

Is it a tiger hunt or a man hunt? You decide

Comments about Once Was A Killer by HEG George

  • (11/19/2015 3:15:00 AM)

    WOW...This is a true feast Heg. There is so much I drank in and savored every word. So captured by.....

    ' I have smelled the air
    and read its menu'....brilliant

    And.... ' Hips sway low from side to side,
    like an exotic dancer. Both of us earning our living'.....

    So descriptive of the mighty hunter, proud glorious beast.

    Sigh....Hail great poet. I salute your pen.....10+
    (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, November 18, 2015

Poem Edited: Wednesday, November 18, 2015

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