When its time has arrived, the prey becomes the hunter.
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Hunter or the hunted! ! ! ! !
If you be a hunter,
Besides being good marksman,
One needs sportsmanship.
What makes one a hunter;
Fun of the game or sadistic pleasure,
At times I wonder…
Hunted or the hunter
In the playfield, there is a slim chance,
The pursuer end as prey.
So what,
If its a poem or a poet;
Its all in the game,
an occupational hazard...
poem by Mamta Agarwal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When its time has come, the prey goes to the hunter.
A Hunter
in the forest of life
a hunter kept searching
for a prey to stalk
and salt for a meal or two.
stealthily he moved
afraid of dry leaves underfoot
eyes fixed on a prey.
lo! without warning
the prey's image got blurred.
disappointed he trudged
only to meet a similar fate
home bound he trekked
a man bitter at fate
yet no one promised anything.
poem by Kelvin Karani
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time Has Arrived To Fight Back Terror
Time has arrived to repay
fierce, timid terror its due
and time has arrived not
to sit in silence and suffer.
TIme has arrived those demons
who dance around like flames
of fire and who hide from
their caverns to be cleared
from the earth.
And it is time, time to uproot
fierce, timid terror and it is
time to fight back for
the innocent lives.
Time has arrived not
to sit in silence and suffer
and time has come to
repay their dues.
November 29,2008
poem by Gayatri Nambiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We're Predators and Prey
Are we truly so distant from our primitive past
Are we no longer the hunter or considered fair prey
Were the truth put before you, you’d be most aghast
There are predators among us and they hunt us each day
We’re not truly different from the ones at herds rear
Which the predator watches with hard hungry eye
The prey starts and senses, that death is quite near
On the lonely herds edges, the weak always die
Our modern world is a jungle, and human beasts are a fact
Camouflaged with normalcy, clothed in disarming disguise
Preying on the young and the weakest with terrifying tact
Before melting in to community, they disappear to our eyes
The gazelle in the herd is as the child on the walk
Safety in numbers causes inborn defenses to relax
A lion creeping closer is as a van stopping to stalk
And they’ll both culminate in deadly attacks
No.. we’re not so far distant from our primitive past
Yes.. we’re the hunter and also too, are considered fair prey
don’t allow yourself or your children to lag or be last
Yes… there are predators among us and they hunt us each day
poem by David Whalen
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The patience of the hunter is always greater than that of the prey.
The Hunter
It dont come easy, thats understood
Faint-hearted loser, thats no good
Just take a lesson from the great mohammed
He said... he said...
Pick up a rifle, you must be strong
To take a title, can be so long
If you believe, you cant go wrong
I said... I said...
Hes a fighter, hes my friend,
Always winning in the end,
Hes no angel, hes no fool,
Never plays it by the rule,
Take the glory, steal the prize,
Only the hunter, only the hunter
You took your chances, you hurt your pride
A sense of failure, is hard to hide
You crossed the limit, you broke the code
Back on the road... remember?
Hes a rival, hes my friend,
Always winning in the end,
Hes a tiger, hes a swan,
Hes the one Im counting on,
To take the glory, steal the prize,
Only the hunter, only the hunter survives
Im on the outside, Im looking in
Through the lenses, then into film
Ive got the target set in my sights
I see a vision of truth... look out!
Were gonna fight until we drop,
Were gonna get back to the top,
Were gonna be the first in line,
Winners till the end of time
Only the hunter, only the hunter,
Only the hunter, only the hunter,
Survives
song performed by by Asia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lovehunter
(coverdale/moody/marsden)
I need a woman to treat me good
And give me everything a good woman should
Everyday and every night
Shed be waiting on her brown-eyed boy
To come and treat her right
Im a love hunter baby
Sneaking up on you,
Im a love hunter baby
Sneaking up on you
Im gonna give you all my loving
And use my tail on you
In my time Ive been a back door man,
Ive taken everything I could
But, Ive given all I can
I dont want no woman
To weep or moan,
Im looking for a sweet heartbreaker
And Im never gonna leave her alone
Im a love hunter baby
Sneaking up on you,
Im a love hunter baby
What you gonna do?
Im gonna give you all my loving
And use my tail on you
Im a love hunter baby
Sneaking up on you,
Im a love hunter baby
What you gonna do?
Im gonna give you all my loving
And use my tail on you
cos Im a love hunter baby,
Im a love hunter baby...
Im a love hunter baby
Sneaking up on you
Im sneaking up on you!
song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hunter Fences
Fences may restrict you
And those the Hunter has so much
Like prey you feel caged, that is true
And you just cannot bloom as such.
The greens are open, so be free
The choices vast and exciting
Migrate to tales of ABC
There poetry does the undressing.
We find it Home to have some lines
Drawn to say 'where we cross the street'
All ages read between the lines,
And this the Hunter fairly meets.
Bloom and go where you want to
Never impose what you think
Rules are good and fences too,
These will not let our morals sink.
'Train up a child in the way he should go,
and when he is old, he will not depart from it.'
Proverbs 22: 6
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Hunter’s Song
RISE! Sleep no more! ’T is a noble morn:
The dews hang thick on the fringed thorn,
And the frost shrinks back, like a beaten hound,
Under the steaming, steaming ground.
Behold, where the billowy clouds flow by,
And leave us alone in the clear gray sky!
Our horses are ready and steady.—So, ho!
I ’m gone, like a dart from the Tartar’s bow.
Hark, hark!—Who calleth the maiden Morn
From her sleep in the woods and the stubble corn?
The horn,—the horn!
The merry, sweet ring of the hunter’s horn.
Now, thorough the copse, where the fox is found,
And over the stream, at a mighty bound,
And over the high lands, and over the low,
O’er furrows, o’er meadows, the hunters go!
Away!—as a hawk flies full at its prey,
So flieth the hunter, away,—away!
From the burst at the cover till set of sun,
When the red fox dies, and—the day is done!
Hark, hark!—What sound on the wind is borne?
’T is the conquering voice of the hunter’s horn.
The horn,—the horn!
The merry, bold voice of the hunter’s horn.
Sound! Sound the horn! To the hunter good
What ’s the gulley deep or the roaring flood?
Right over he bounds, as the wild stag bounds,
At the heels of his swift, sure, silent hounds.
O, what delight can a mortal lack,
When he once is firm on his horse’s back,
With his stirrups short, and his snaffle strong,
And the blast of the horn for his morning song?
Hark, hark!—Now, home! and dream till morn
Of the bold, sweet sound of the hunter’s horn!
The horn,—the horn!
O, the sound of all sounds is the hunter’s horn!
poem by Barry Cornwall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Was There
In this world when you first arrived
I was there at your mothers side,
Holding her hand, I was filled with pride,
I was there when you first arrived.
It was I alone who rubbed your hair
It was I who counted your fingers and toes,
And I was I who proudly held you first
And it was I alone who rubbed your nose.
When you first arrived in this world
It was I, who was thinking is it a boy or a girl
But then to myself, I really didn't care,
As long as you arrived, to answer my prayer.
I was there with you every step of the way
I watched your birth, and your coming of age
And what I say now, I say with both a vigor and pride,
That I was there, when you first arrived.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The hunt for love
By my nature
i am not a hunter.
hunting implies
that killing takes place.
the last thing
i want to do
is to kill something.
is hunting wrong?
not necessarily,
but i think hunting is wrong
for me.
besides, as far as i am concerned
motive makes all the difference.
for example,
i was a hunter once
and didn't even know it.
a certain innocence had taken me
into the snowy woods
one snowy evening.
i was hunting
for someone to love.
little did i know my nonchalance
would lead me to another hunter.
this hunter
was moving cautiously
through the same poetic snowy woods
binding snowflakes into winter dreams.
this hunter was careful
to avoid familiar mantraps
while also hunting for someone to love.
poem by Richard Ilnicki
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Man is man's prey.
Frogs find flies as their prey;
Birds find worms as their prey;
Cats find rats as their prey.
For man, another man is prey.
02.11.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Busy Cleaning Up Their Acts
Hasn't the time arrived,
For those accomplished in conniving tasks...
Of planting booby traps,
To catch people off guard...
A throwback to a childish past?
And what purpose is served,
When grown folks laugh?
Hasn't the time arrived,
For the ones who 'should' be mature...
To set aside their hiding behind masks,
With a demonstrating to those younger...
That a life lived of being a fool,
Does not forever last?
With a pursuing of facts.
Few can afford wasting time procrastinating.
Or accepting in their minds they can afford hesitating.
Since that time has arrived to get down to business,
Period!
Even though a seriousness to leave fantasies,
Isn't easy for those entrapped within delusioned beliefs.
No roads ahead are paved with treated sweets.
Or streets left to litter for someone else to clean.
Since that time has arrived to get down to business,
Period!
With everyone expected to roll up their sleeves,
Prepared to get busy cleaning up their acts.
Few sad faces will be given attention to attract.
The days ahead are not about the giving of that.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hare wooing rabbit
‘It is there! Very much there!
Go and catch the mare
before she comes to glare’.
[ a hare was told]
‘How can you dare
come and at me stare?
You can’t get me bare’.
[a rabbit retirted]
‘No hunter can hear
the consent of a hare
before he goes to snare’.
‘No hunter is held dear,
I am a hare neither.
I shall drive you thither’.
‘If I were not a hunter,
will come some hunter,
who will, you the whole, plunder’.
‘I shall put across a barrier,
will soon seek some warrior
in whose arm to slither.’
‘Then why not am I that lad?
I shall make you glad
and serve you salad.’
No, you are a nerd;
your motive is absurd.
I can’t be assured.’
The she-rabbit fled the he-hare.
25.12.2000, Pm
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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