Fighting frontiers

It’s when that hunter calls to you.
And you brace for the arrow, the shot to the heart.
Feeling like an animal.
Fighting to be heard and tolerated.
Breathing in new corrosive air that erodes your lungs.
Deeper into the jungle.
You earthquake proof your soul, and it shakes with the rain;
with the look from these eyes and the sound of their name.
Fighting to fly, to keep these wings feathered down and peacock pleasant.
Stretched over time and the eyelids of a stranger.
Keeping it all in, keeping it all safe.
Fighting against the rules you never made.
Fighting frontiers of tomorrow on the soil of yesterday.
Running with the tigers.
Forever fighting to stay alive.


12 thoughts on “Fighting frontiers

  1. the rules of the tiger….hmmm i think it would be a tough guideline to adhere to…..they seem to have very specific tastes and beaviours you would be stretched to follow their patterns. but all animals (us included) as constantly fighting, to stay a head, alive , abreast…..this poem resonates well with life even in our concrete jungle. Nice one Mark…


    • Thank you, the fighting tone is a hard one…but all hard work pays off. Everyone’s busy surviving, it’s just time to live now! Glad you enjoyed it.


  2. Cool! The trees get the upper hand. Need to see this, since I’m a tree hugger. Yes, happy Friday! Hope Judge Dredd has been a good experience. I think my nephew likes that comic.


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