Sunday, 18 May 2014

Polar Bear

By: Ansgar Walk
It happened at the end of March
And finished with a mighty crunch
The drowning of many thousand bears
Their melted homes vanished into air

And if you stood within a hundred miles
You might hear something from the wild
A wind would carry the mournful growl
And prick your ears like something foul

It took days and days and days and days
Until they started washing up on the edge of bays
Their heavy coats and tasseled fur

And when time had passed in slow repose
Their carcasses indefinable and decomposed
They fed the earth with surreptitious zeal
Their collective wrath would be revealed



By: Josyan Pierson


It wasn’t until three years had passed
Where bears were but a ghost behind glass
Their image iconic and a reminder of
The ignorance that hadn’t budged



The Arctic White and Ursine Sprite
Worked on potions throughout the night
With tooth of wolf and tail of seal
He crushed and mixed the pasty meal

At last the magical dough rose higher
And he placed it over the open fire
It bubbled and hissed and sighed and wheezed
Until all animation seized

The Sprite cradled the cake in his wiry arms
You could hear him whisper something warm
An eerie melody mixed with a lamenting cry
Some ancient enchanting lullaby

He off-ed his rugged moccasins
Revealing corkscrewed toe-like limbs
And bore them through the icy ground
Offering the cake to the depths beyond

The next morning came like a slap in the face
The day would be filled with our disgrace
As it would every three years
And eventually be penned the ‘Ursine Fear’

By: Ansgar Walk

The spell that had been cast succeeded
And into water the souls retreated 
The vengeance came without a notice
And water was the bear’s new hostess

And what will follow may seem implausible
But we all know that nothing’s impossible
Where water lived and flowed and dripped
A darkness lurked and skulked and sipped



The events that unfold in no particular succession
Are true accounts or near impressions
Of what some people may have witnessed
They may appear grisly, startling and twisted

A rainy day, buckets to say the least
And puddles appeared as large as the beasts
That resided in the mirrored fluid
Who could have guessed what had ensued

Claws came crashing through the miniature tarns
The hirsute trunks and stiffened arms
Transporting them to the ‘other side’

In baths and sinks and old skating rinks
Where water ruled and things could sink
From seas and lochs and ponds and streams
One could hear the shrieks and screams

The bears return was no good tiding
In every droplet they were hiding
And if you looked in the waters’ eye
You would see the bear alive with ire

Paul W. J. de Groot

You would not have a second chance
Even if you looked askance
They’d take you in a giant hug
And flatten you into a rug

No remorse was ever given
To the elderly, the sick, the children
In droves the bears would seek revenge
And as quickly as it began it ended

Thousands of bodies taken by force
An antithesis of Nature’s course
And every three years forever more
The Bear would return to settle the score

By: Antoine Boissonneault

As we near World Environmental Day I wanted to share a poem written by my wildly talented brother Antoine which highlights the polar bear, a Beautiful Creature that most of us will never see in their natural habitat. 


Popular Posts

Visit my Site