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October 29, 2011
October 26, 2011
|Underneath a moonlit sky,
shined bright lit stars for passerby.
Hear howl, hear roars, hear “Click. Click. Click.”
from creatures hid by trees and sticks.
Inquisitive our hairy beast,
upon a scene his eyes would feast.
Bold aliens with spittle yawned mouth,
faced predators come long from south.
Our watcher, watched behind a tree,
sees creatures, aliens and thing that be.
With curiosity heightened full,
this beastie Wolfman felt the pull.
Of smell in nostrils, most broad and perk,
what goes on here drives him berserk.
With senses sharp and thoughts on fire,
Would he dare leap to see from higher.
But wiser self held him in place,
Stood back, through leaves and did not pace.
From side to side, nor up, nor down,
stock still he stood and gave no frown.
But growled to self, what could he do,
with claws seen here, would not pursue.
As prey by him they would not be,
such mouths, such teeth, that he doth see.
These monstrous creatures of far beyond,
were strangers yes, wish they were gone.
For while they’re here they interrupt,
what could he do to fill his cup.
A cup of blood filled to the brim,
from open veins his mouth did grin.
The thought of this brings total lust,
this be his moment, this be his must.
But this true moment and this true lust,
is squelched and squashed, he does not trust.
That he will gain some upper ground,
that he be monster and he be sound.
His howl, dark night, brought no one fear,
anode complete by creatures here.
That spit and thrust, with lance and teeth,
and bleed green/red from underneath.
Write verse, write words, write on dear sir,
of he, of them, I do concur.
One interrupted moon and night,
he’ll watch from distance, not join this fight.
For if he does, he’ll surely die,
and not for reasons worth a cry.
He’ll linger longer, but not to long,
and stager backward, moan out a song.
So long to moments that should not be,
goodbye, he’ll go beyond this tree.
In morning light become a man,
no memory where he did stand.
Behind a tree and witnessed all,
of monsters short and monsters tall.
Who cut each other from head to toe,
and knew the other as their foe.
Of darkest night and shadowed tree,
be ever careful of the things you see.
Cause Wolfman saw, though never tell,
of Aliens and Predators Hell.
Upon this Earth these creatures came,
and fought and lost to games insane.
For who should fight in darkest trees,
behold their death upon their knees.
And now our tale is to its end,
in pain, in gore these things won’t mend.
Nor leave the scar of battles won,
for these herewith there is no sun.
Let interrupted moonlit sky,
shine on of witness as they die.
For creatures, monsters blood red/green,
the sky above no memories seen.
|Watch out rats,
that blood, those guts
will be the death of you.
|Here is the full
36" x 12" x 18"
|Anyone wishing to see production pictures you can click here
and see it from it's inception as a PS composition many years ago.
Click on image here for larger view of
the alien before it was set into the diorama
|Here's one Predator.
A casualty of war.
|Here is the full diorama as it sits on my bureau
in my computer room.
Now it will get covered so as not to collect dust.
Oh yeah, this is a major dust collector.
Will it be seen at another show somewhere down the road ...
Time will tell.
|Here is a side view
of the full diorama.