The bravery of a lion doesn't protect it from the spear of a hunter.
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My Father Is a Great Hunter
In those days they say
Animals live in the bush
I wish my father can travel go West
To see cat and dog
Antelope and elephant
Tiger and lion
Living in man’s house.
They call them pets
But I don’t understand
While in my continent
Mouse hunts for food
Cat hunts for mouse
Dog hunts for cat
Tiger hunts for dog
And my father hunts for tiger and lion.
My father is a great hunter
Our carpet is zebra crossing
Our bed is tiger coat
Our cloth is lion braveness
The walls of my house
Is made with the beauties of boas
And I am proud to be a hunter’s heir.
poem by Abiodun Adekoya
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Protect Me From What I Want
Its that desease of the age
Its that desease that we crave
Alone at the end of the race
We catch the last bus home
Corporate america wakes
Coffee republic in case
We open the latch on the gate
Of the hole that we call our home
Protect me from what I want...
Protect me protect me
Maybe were victims of fate
Remember when wed celebrate
Wed drink and get high until late
And now were all alone
Wedding bells aint gonna chime
With both of us guilty of crime
And both of us sentenced to time
And now were all alone
Protect me from what I want...
Protect me protect me
Protect me from what I want...
Protect me protect me
Protect me from what I want...
Protect me protect me
Protect me from what I want...
Protect me protect me
song performed by by Placebo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bias
even when the lion
smiles at us
we still withhold
confidence
even if the lion is
sincere
and does not think of
evil
like eating all of us
as prey
we always think of
the worst
even if it is just a picture
of the lion
smiling at us
we still suspect
that this can be a trap
another deception
a lion is a lion is a lion
and will always be lion
no matter what
as simple as that
ask the wind
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Peaceful Warrior
His bravery is marked on the tablets in spiritual heaven,
Same ways are propounded so moderately.
The three ways are set to prosper:
Bravery, courage and valour.
This will be physically greater than the angels
That swerve their flight in divine fashion.
I own this kingdom with angels
Like a warrior superior to their rank and file.
My bravery is like his, the bravery is like his,
We are in luck so well, with this bravery.
Our souls stain the skies with blood,
And this is a red substance like the sunset,
Like the sunrise when luck is at your window.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Protection
I have no fear at the present in view of my past experiences,
And i am now delivered from the paw of the lion;
But, do wear a bronze helmet on your head to protect yourself.
Of the valley which lies below her,
There you must go to meet her love;
But, i am now delivered from the paw of the bear.
Of the five smooth stones from the brook,
You need a sound protection in this life;
And Yahweh does not save with sword and spear,
For the battle is Yahweh's.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Bravery defined
What is bravery?
To hunt a tiger,
To win a battle,
To kill an enemy
Or to face a danger?
The bravery is
To confess the truth,
To repent for the sin,
To accept the ignorance
And to reap punishment.
The bravery is
To win within
And not to win without.
03.07.2001, Pkd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Sonnets of the stone ruins
I
Long ago a mighty hunter
sailed on the river to look for medicine
and his canoe made from tree
was swept along with uprooted trees
by a river in flood.
He lost control over the boat
and in the distance
a thundering sound
hanged in the air
mighty smoke
rose ghostly out of the water
in a fine spray
and he could hear tons of water
flowing down a cataract.
II
While the canoe was spinning round
and round
he tied a long thin strong thong
to a arrow
and with all the power in his strong arms
he draws the bow’s string and set his aim
on a massive tree
standing on the shore.
The arrow caught speed
and hanged a moment in the grey air
before it hit the tree with great force
and the thong spanned stiff
and his arms with desperate power
overcame the river.
III
He passed the remains
of ancient mines
and villages declining
and overgrown by bushes
and suddenly there were rock walls and towers
and branches creeping
into the walls.
Cautiously he sneaked nearer
and shot a arrow through a spitting cobra
and suddenly a figure appeared behind a bush,
but before his rock could hit it
it disappeared into the nought
and against a niche another figure stared
deep into his thoughts
IV
When he stormed with assegai in his hand
onto that figure
it disappeared around a corner
into a dark passageway
and all at once
there was an animal with glowing eyes
breathing heavily in the dark in front of him
and he lifted his shield against it
And took a firm grip on the back of the spear.
With rotting breath and cruel anger
a lion leaped with stretched out claws
growling onto him,
but he was shield somewhat
While the assegai went deep past the animal’s ribs.
V
While the lion died in anger
the claws ripped deep into the hunter’s shoulder
and his sharp knife
slashed time after time
through the animal’s heart
and covered in blood
he came out
from under weight of the dead lion.
In horror he saw
the lion changing slowly
from animal to human
with a spear through his ribs
and a lion skin
around his shoulders.
VI
He was still busy
dragging the lion skin from the killed man
and felt the soft fur
in his hands,
when to more lions
in anger leaped on him.
It was too much for him
since both knife and spear
still wedged into the dead man
and with the fighting
he had lost
his bow and arrows
and he was cornered
by lions ripping from both sides.
VII
l’Envoi
It is told
than when the air is open
and the moon takes long to rise
a mighty hunter appears
with the rain gods
where they bash their shields
and spears against each other
and that the air
is now his hunting ground
You can see stripes of thunder
when his arrows with thongs
dropp down to earth,
before the new season’s
first raindrops fall.
[Reference: With thanks to “The ivory trail” by T.V. Bulpin that gave me the idea of this poem.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Gordon Cumming - The Lion Hunter
Some thirty years ago, in conversation with an old sea
captain who had visited or voyaged to all quarters of the
globe, he was denouncing fiercely the degeneracy of these
costermonger times. He said there was a book in our
town library which was a tissue of falsehood from begin-
ning to end, and that there never existed such a man as
Gordon Cumming, the Lion Hunter. I told the old gen-
tleman that I had seen the Lion Hunter hundreds of
times and conversed with him in the woods of Aylter,
and that be was a descendant of the Royal Comyn, one
of whom was killed by King Robert the Bruce, and that
I had seen the magnificent person of Gordon Cumming in
the garb of old Gaul, successfully punish a huge prize
fighter who kept grossly insulting him during the excite-
ment of a general election-when Cumming's uncle,
Major Cumming Bruce, was running for member, this
Major being father-in-law to Lord Elgin, formerly Gov-
ernor of Canada. I also told him that Hugh Millar was
a warm friend of the Lion Hunter's mother, as she was
distinguished both as a geologist and a botanist, and that
Livingstone, the great traveller, was a great admirer and
intimate friend of the Hunter. After his return to
Britain he exhibited himself and his magnificent trophies
throughout all the cities and towns of Britain and Ireland.
His own noble figure in full Highland costume was perhaps no
insignificant part of the exhibition. Barnum afterwards
secured the noble specimens of hides and horns and monstrous
tusks for his New York museum.
Now the youth in fertile Moray
Do in Gordon Cumming glory,
Bold lion hunter-first who made
With Africa tribes successful trade ;
First in those wilds to fire a gun,
While he the mighty trophies won.
The moat celebrated lady traveller in Britain is Miss
Cumming, a niece of the Lion Hunter. She has written
several volumes of her travels in distant lands.
poem by James McIntyre
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Peace
When lion and lamb have together lain down
Spectators cry out, all in chorus;
'The lamb doesn't shrink nor the lion frown
A miracle's working before us!'
But 't is patent why Hot-head his wrath holds in,
And Faint-heart her terror and loathing;
For the one's but an ass in a lion's skin,
The other a wolf in sheep's clothing.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Dead Lion
Lion died
And dead lion
Came to me crying
Dead lion wanted to know
so many thing about life.
I am not here
To told about
Lion's history
Or geography of the area
Where lion was.
Dead lion
I found within
My house my country
Lion was enchanted
on the scene here
Even after death
That much I knew.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Brave Sword
By bravery we subdue the brilliance
Of an enemy with a sling;
O the enchantment that bravery brings,
Promises are made on the mast.
Concerns creep to wander with lust,
Bravery derides the normal quest.
That it is from the strength of the heart.
The strong heart must be brave and gallant,
Like Fancy itself, the real pleasures that await.
Love and bravery are doubled when struck
By the sword, steel in its grip and material.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The animal that escapes the hunter's spear is only allowed to go.
Accepting To Protect False Beliefs
The telling of lies told and sold,
To deny in a hiding of one's insecurities...
Does not prevent,
An increasing mental instability...
As witnessed by those,
Not only experiencing buyer's remorse...
But shows the ones who have lied,
Responsible for much that has gone...
Misunderstood most of their lives,
While fighting against denials.
And today...
There is no way of escaping,
With a possibility on either side of truth...
To correct relationships destroyed to redo,
By accepting to protect false beliefs as done.
Or can fix to mend anyone's heart broken,
Of those victimized who have forgiven.
Since they will never be able to erase in time,
From their minds...
The effects of what has happened to them.
Accepting to protect,
False beliefs...
Doesn't shadow,
A truth that's known.
Accepting to protect,
False beliefs...
Doesn't shadow,
A truth that's known.
Accepting to protect,
False beliefs...
Doesn't shadow,
A truth that's known...
To keep those from being aware,
With a clearing of polluted air.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I A Hunter.
I a hunter of life,
I got shot by a hunter with my knife,
I a hunter of death,
A shot just broke my teeth
I a hunter of destiny,
Am afraid mine is taken,
I hunter of happiness,
am afraid mine is darkness
I a hunter of purity,
Putifying isn't my duty,
I a hunter of greatness,
I've just found am the smallest
I hunter of Love,
But am a sparrow not a dove,
and now I've got a message,
A message I, ve meant to receive
Hallow love Thank you,
my mind is holified that is you,
you have made my mind over due,
you made me think about you
SO THANK YOU
poem by Dickson Mseti
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Who’s Carrying The Books
Courage doesn’t always roar,
but can come from the quiet voice
of a timid man.
Bravery doesn’t always belong
to the muscle bound.
It can sometimes come from
the meekest person around.
Before you judge character by looks,
maybe you should look at
who’s carrying the books.
11 February 2009
poem by David Harris
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Coventry in November
They say it was a Hunter’s moon
The night the City died
They say it was a hunter’s moon
The day the people cried
They say it was a hunter’s moon
That took our house away
They say it was a hunter’s moon
When the devil came to stay
An ageing now I’d like to know
Won’t someone tell me soon,
Why the reaper came to mow
in the light of the hunter’s moon
poem by Adrian Wait
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Lonely Is The Hunter
My eggs in one basket, but she threw me a bone
She was dealt a full deck, but she likes to live alone
Aint just talkin to myself, need a reason to stop (oh yeah)
With a flower in her teeth, she drained the last drop
I said girls love money like bees the honey
But lonely is the hunter, youre my one and only, and lonely is the hunter
Asked her for a refill, sweat flew off my face (oh yeah)
Shes a legendary figure, kept me in a cage
Shes a torture chamber, when I seduced her in my bed (ooh yeah)
She gave a cold reading, success went to her head
In the heat of the battle the heart cannot rule, Im such a fool
But lonely is the hunter, youre my one and only, and lonely is the hunter
Lonely is the hunter, youre my one and only, and lonely is the hunter
Lonely is the hunter, youre my one and only, and lonely is the hunter
Lonely is the hunter, youre my one and only, and lonely is the hunter
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just Because
Just because you did
Doesn't mean that you should
Just because you can
Doesn't mean that you could
Just because you are able
Doesn't mean you would
Just because you sat
Doesn't mean you should‘ve stood.
Just because you spoke
Doesn't mean that you thought
Just because you looked
Doesn't mean that you sought
Just because you argued
Doesn't mean that you fought
Just because you dreamed
Doesn't mean that you wished not.
Just because you cried
Doesn't mean that you wept
Just because you had
Doesn't mean that you kept
Just because you cleaned
Doesn't mean that you swept
Just because you said yes
Doesn't mean that you accept.
Just because you gathered
Doesn't mean that you own
Just because you gave up
Doesn't mean that you were alone
Just because you saw
Doesn't mean that you were shown
Just because you expiate
Doesn't mean you should atone.
Just because your old
Doesn't mean that you have flaws
Just because you won
Doesn't mean you have to applause
Just because you waited
Doesn't mean that you paused
Just because you were you
Doesn't mean anything, because.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Lonely Is The Hunter
There is a thing out there that lives in the dark
Lamented into dust is the crow
A star shining in the sky
In the darkened night
A filling taste it is
Lonely is the hunter in the days
Of them we are
Of they there are none
Two times the rooster crows
In the days of the lonely hunter
Hope dead and cold
Lonely is the hunter
None nearby lonely is the hunter
Tombs filling the heart
Lonely is the hunter
The hunter is he
poem by Alex Fischer
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An action doesn't have to be wrong just because it is not logical. It doesn't have to be right just because it has its logic.
quote by Lion Feuchtwanger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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