A dog in a kennel barks at his fleas -- a hunting dog does not feel them.
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A dog in a kennel barks at his fleas; a dog hunting does not notice them.
Big fleas have little fleas upon their backs to bite them, and little fleas have lesser fleas, and so ad infinitum.
Dogs In The House
since we love the dogs
who sleep with us
now we must feast
with all the fleas
we feel the rhythm
of their barks
we mark our lives
with dog ears
we master the art of
stand and sit and roll
and get that ball!
now scratch my back
as i scratch yours.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The dog that barks much is never good for hunting.
When the hunting dog barks it's a signal that the prey is near.
A snorer's cute darling
He always thinks when he unlocks the brass kennel door
She jumps out; But she never tries.
The nextdoor handsome greyhound named 'Romeo'
Barks mostly sad songs in the midnight.
But his darling 'Juliette' never listens.
'Hey! Your bony Master is getting old and tumbledown
And reach the goal very soon.'
Whenever he tells her his pathetic story
She just smile and wags her bushy tail.
* To my beloved wife who accompanies me through all my hardships along this foggy roads.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hunting High And Low
Typed by [email protected]
Hunting High and Low:
Here I am
And within the reach of my hand
She's sound asleep
And she's sweeter now
Than the wildest dream
Could have seen her
And I watch her slipping away
But I know I'll be
Hunting high and low
Ah there's no end
To the lengths I'll go to
Hunting high and low
Ah there's no end
To the lengths I'll go
To find her again
Upon this my dreams are depending
Through the dark
I sense the pounding of her heart
Next to mine
She's the sweetest love
I could find
So I guess I'll be
Hunting high and low
Ah, there's no end
To lengths I'll go to
High and low
Ah, do you know what it means
To love you
I'm hunting high and low
And now she's telling me
She's got to go away
I'll always be hunting high and low
Only for you (And now she's telling me)
Watch me tearing myself to pieces
Hunting high and low
Ah, there's no end
To lengths I'll go to
For you I'll be hunting high and low
song performed by by A-Ha
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When the dog barks
When the dog barks
Don’t crack, I remark
Watch your back
Maybe it is about to attack
A dog is commonly your loyal slave
But your master when it is brave
It can be your best friend
It can be your worst enemy
When the dog barks
Get ready on your mark
It senses you in the dark
When the dog barks
And you don’t talk back
It will sense the courage you lack
When the dog barks
You may need to give it a whack
To set it on the right track
Before it embarks
On a mission with its mates in a pack
When the dog bites
You must put up a fight
When the dog bites
Think hard, do what is right
When the dog whines
Even you should know it’s not fine
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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The Forest Greeting
GOOD hunting! — aye, good hunting,
Wherever the forests call;
But ever a heart beats hot with fear,
And what of the birds that fall?
Good hunting! — aye, good hunting,
Wherever the north winds blow;
But what of the stag that calls for his mate?
And what of the wounded doe?
Good hunting! — aye, good hunting,
And ah! we are bold and strong;
But our triumph call through the forest hall
Is a brother's funeral song.
For we are brothers ever,
Panther and bird and bear;
Man and the weakest that fear his face,
Born to the nest or lair.
Yes, brothers, and who shall judge us?
Hunters and game are we;
But who gave the right for me to smite?
Who boasts when he smiteth me?
Good hunting! — aye, good hunting,
And dim is the forest track;
But the sportsman Death comes striding on:
Brothers, the way is black.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Hunters Lullaby
Your fathers gone a-hunting
Hes deep in the forest so wild
And he cannot take his wife with him
He cannot take his child
Your fathers gone a-hunting
In the quicksand and the clay
And a woman cannot follow him
Although she knows the way
Your fathers gone a-hunting
Through the silver and the glass
Where only greed can enter
But spirit, spirit cannot pass
Your fathers gone a-hunting
For the beast well never cannot bind
And he leaves a baby sleeping
And his blessings all behind
Your fathers gone a-hunting
And hes lost his lucky charm
And hes lost the guardian heart
That keeps the hunter from the harm
Your fathers gone a-hunting
He asked me to say goodbye
And he warned me not to stop him
I wouldnt, I wouldnt even try
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When a dog barks at the moon, then it is religion; but when he barks at strangers, it is patriotism!
quote by David Starr Jordan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dogs bark and Mountains in stance
The next door dog sleeps in his kennel
And his dog sleeps out in their kennel.
The following morning a big grumble.
Dogs are friends and housewives are enemies.
'Let the dogs be friendly and we too make a peaceful negotiation.'
He said.
His wife laughs with his scribbling
When he woke up in the Sunday morning.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If the dog barks, go in; if the bitch barks you had better stay outside.
Hunting High & Low
Here I am
And within the reach of my hands
Shes sound asleep and shes sweeter now
Than thewildest dream could have seen her
And I watch her slipping away
Though I know Ill be hunting high and low
High
Theres no end to the the lengths Ill go to
Hunting high and low
High
Theres no end to the the lengths Ill go to
To find her again
Upon this my dreams are depending
Through the dark
I sense the pounding of her heart
Next to mine
Shes the sweetest love I could find
So I guess Ill be hunting high and low
High
Theres no end to the lengths Ill go to
High and low
High
Do you know what it means to love you
Im hunting high and low
And now shes telling me shes got to go away
Ill always be hunting high and low
Hungry for you
Watch me tearing myself to pieces
Hunting high and low
High
Theres no end to the lengths Ill go to
Oh! for you Ill be hunting high and low
song performed by by A-Ha
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wild F*#$ing Manners
hunting a tiger
big sharp teeth
man-eater
these hunters
big egos, big guns
hunting for survival
need fur and meat to survive
hunting wild game
wild f*#$ing manners
saw lioness and her cubs
on f*#$ing youtube
wild animals is to game theory
as man is to war
primitive yet perfect in movements
stop hunting these majestic creatures
they echo the intelligence we lack
in a far away land called our sub-conscience
only to find our only way to organized life
we're just animals on a hunting ground
poem by Inner Projection
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How Boomer Ruined Our Hunting Trips
For years we have gone hunting.
I've loved sitting next to him in his deer blind
or sitting quietly in my own.
Now that Boomer came into our lives
I see all living animals as having feelings
and I can't stand the thought of hunting.
Boomer is our bassett hound.
He thinks he is human.
I sometimes think so too.
The way he has shown me
that he feels things like we do
has changed me forever.
Now, all I can think of is that
if a dog can feel emotions like we do...
can a deer?
Are they afraid?
Do they know why we are sitting there?
Do they hate me?
I have to explain this to my husband
and pray he understands why
our hunting days together are over.
Fleas, lice
fleas, lice
the cat too
fleeing me
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Fleas
My thoughts are like fleas,
Eternally skipping.
I try as I please
To prevent their slipping,
To probe them for more meant
Than my wit can utter;
But out of the torment
They quiver and flutter,
Dance, sparkle, and vanish
With insolent ease.
To hold or to banish
My thoughts are like fleas.
poem by Gamaliel Bradford
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Always Remember
always remember that when
a fake dog
takes a poise on your sofa
at the middle of your
living room
or your study
try looking
try listening carefully
it never barks.
it is your silly puppy without a mommy
that barks
in the mirror. barking at its image
waggling its tail
the fake ones
do not bark, remember that, and i know that you know
that i know about this plasticity
between us.
it is you that barks
almost every morning when i begin to write a poem
and all the while for years and years
i have always been silent.
that is the difference between us.
and let me tell the obvious. do not be hurt.
i am fake and you are true.you are angry and i never was once.
you breathe. i don't anymore.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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