The Return of the Mammoth

Where to Go? Where to Look?

I have a confession to make. I’m not doing very well these days.

My cliche-like “metaphor” (one that everybody got tired with by now) is that my Mr. Hyde is doing much better than my Dr. Jekyll. I can’t think of a better statement right now: my mind is not functioning in a way that you can call spirited. Mean-spirited, perhaps; down-spirited: possibly. Spiritless: sure. Not much fun. In fact, it’s anything but fun. It’s quite painful.

Then again, this is a space where I promised I shall not hide my feelings. This is a space where a suprisingly high number of people actually come back, and from time to time check out what I’m up to. Not that they miss my short or long absences too terribly. But for that, I can’t blame them at all. After all, who wants to check out if a searching soul is still soul searching…and not finding it? How boring is that!

Yet, I somehow managed to put together a poem last night describing a certain condition of my personal “state of state.” I was in pain writing it. I remembered some of my friends and readers told me that the pain thing worked rather well for me. I think what they actually meant is that I write better when I’m hurting more than when I’m not.

Sure! Thanks! What else could I say?

I even wrote a piece on pain. If you’ve missed it before, here it is. Just click.

Anyway, not being in a great state of mind, I don’t want to prolong this conversation. I have a feeling I shall come back writing more about it — about the state of my heart, etc., in case anybody shows interest to know. For now, would you please read the poem? Would you please read it more than once…if you can? It might make a difference to get beneath the surface. I hope you actually find something beneath the surface.

Let me know what you think. Maybe, your search will be as futile as mine.

________________

The Return of the Mammoth 
On a dune deserted track
Desolate, no-man’s land
Condemned death bowl
I heard the mammoth return.

Boom, boom, boom…
Like the frightening T-rex in Jurassic Park
I heard them thump down
absolute positive
bone-chillin’ blood-curdlin’ scary.

Thump, thud…thump…thud
Stomp…plod…trudge
Boom…boom…boom
I knew they were comin’
I sensed skins friction
Fume.

If I happened a normal, sensible man
If I belonged
I would instant flee
run for life
Before they ran me over
With tons of megalith wool
Tank belly, hell-like bodily odor
Enormous, branching tusks
Screaming battlefront bugle
Massive, wavering trunk
Primitive, piercing eyes
Like the T-rex in Jurassic Park.

Here they march down, stampede
To trample, crush me like dehuskin’ oat
With those dirty, hairy, gray
Walnut trunk-like elephant legs
Ugly, disease-like elephant legs
Like walnut trunk
They’re marchin’ down
Thump…thud…
Thump…thud…boom
To blow my lung out
Splittin’ open my traumatic heart
With one final sure massive force
Like a walnut suture-blasted.
Zap.

I was tempted to run
I even paused and contemplated
My life
My time
But I didn’t.

On the deserted track
On the desolate, primitive dune
condemned swamp
I stopped and waited
I looked up one last time
A huge wild herd
Chargin’ gargoyle beasts
I saw them comin’
In a fiery dusty storm
Whirling omen
Oscillating highrise trunks
Exposed undulate ivory
Flapping ear spathes.

I did not flee
I stopped and stooped.

I squatted down my knees
Closed my eyes
And then lied down
On my back
On the barren track
On the bleak, depressing, spoilage mud

And waited
Like a captive worm
To be swatted like a fly
a violent blow.

Darkness.

I waited…
And listened to the
approaching
Thump ‘n stomp…
frictionin’ skin…
fumin’ froth…

Because
I always waited
for the
Mammoth
to return.

Here they come.

Return of the Mammoth

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