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Bullfight
by Karl WaldbauerThe bull,
black,
heavy muscles,
gleaming horns.
The crowd
roars
as the animal
makes another pass at the scarlet cape.
Like a picture
captured forever by a camera,
the graceful matador
stands
facing the tired, bloody creature,
sword poised in the air,
ready.
As Death
takes the bull in his icy embrace,
I fail to see
the matador
a masculine
conqueror of nature,
but
rather
a bitter woman
acting out the destruction
of
men in her life.
08/03/2004
Posted on 08/03/2004
Copyright © 2022 Karl Waldbauer
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Michele Schottelkorb on 08/03/04 at 01:32 PM ooooooooo... incredibly imagery, and a twist at the end... bullfights have always enraged me... and i think matadors get what they deserve when run through by a doomed bull (same goes for the running of the bulls)... you have giving me another analogy to look at, and i'm impressed... excellent piece... blessings... |
| Posted by Anne Engelen on 08/04/04 at 01:22 AM The last image is super. It kept me pinned down on a stream of thoughts. I love it! |
| Posted by Maryellen Lebeda-Parra on 08/04/04 at 07:53 AM BRILLIANT my friend! |
| Posted by Max Bouillet on 08/08/04 at 07:30 AM Absolutely cunning that you use bull imagery to present truth that takes the bullcrap away. Exquisite read with imagery that leaves a lasting impression. |
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