When the hunter returns and is holding mushrooms, don't ask him about how his hunt went.
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If the hunter comes back with mushrooms, don't ask him how his hunt was.
All are hunters
Everyone is a hunter;
Everyone must hunt for food.
As a hunter, one’s no mercy.
Justice has no ultimate role.
09.03.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Harvest
A severe drought but water melons expanded
in the back yard of the farmhouse.
There was no hunt the whole night
and the hunter returns home
with his rusty shot gun.
Farm lassie counts the melons
for the week-end market
and they smiled each other
While he was passing the fence.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Unforgiven Hunt
I shouldn't be telling you this
No one should be telling you this, but
Only a few people even know
About the time of the Unforgiven Hunt-
We are on the Unforgiven Hunt, so I should tell you
I can't even tell you
What the Hunt is about
And why it is called just that-
The Hunt
But I just told you
That the Hunt is called the Hunt
For a reason-
So now I should tell you the whole story
How we came to this point
Why our features stand out
In the whole world, all the countries
First, we were like all the others
Down-to-earth, forgiving, out loud
Sharing all our secrets
But now the Hunt people regret
That we came this far
We came this far, we broke our friendship apart
Now we are on the Unforgiven Hunt
The time of the Hunt started at the time of the Hunt
No one really knows
When it was, what it was that unbalanced the scale
Of life and death-
But we are on the Unforgiven Hunt
We started the Unforgiven Hunt by saying,
"We have to increase our lifestyle, then we'll stop"
But over time, it grew to be our hobby
Beating other countries
In machines, in factories and greed
In food, in water and high standards
In shelter, in organizing, in need
We are still on the Unforgiven Hunt
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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The Hunter's Moon
The Hunter's Moon rides high,
High o'er the close-cropped plain;
Across the desert sky
The herded clouds amain
Scamper tumultuously,
Chased by the hounding wind
That yelps behind.
The clamorous hunt is done,
Warm-housed the kennelled pack;
One huntsman rides alone
With dangling bridle slack;
He wakes a hollow tone,
Far echoing to his horn
In clefts forlorn.
The Hunter's Moon rides low,
Her course is nearly sped.
Where is the panting roe?
Where hath the wild deer fled?
Hunter and hunted now
Lie in oblivion deep:
Dead or asleep.
poem by Mathilde Blind
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The big game often appears when the hunter has given up the hunt for the day.
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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Until lions have their historians, tales of the hunt shall always glorify the hunter.
Until the lions have their historians, tales of the hunt shall always glorify the hunter.
Until lions have their own historians, tales of the hunt shall always glorify the hunter.
Until Lions have their own historians tales of the hunt will always glorify the hunter.
Death Of A Youth
How old is to old?
How young is to young?
For Death knowns no number
Death knows no age.
I have the same dreams as you.
I have the same hopes and fears as you do.
Then why do I not have the same rights as you do?
Why do you hunt me like a animal in the concrete jungle of life.
Why did you track me down the side walk river.
Then gun me down.
What Devine power made you the hunter and me the prey.
Is it because my eyes are not blue like yours.
Could it be because my skin is dark like the dirty it was created from.
Why do you hunt me.
Don't you know I am not a animal.
I am a man just like you
poem by Jackie Compton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When The Poem Returns Life Returns
WHEN THE POEM RETURNS LIFE RETURNS
When the poem returns life returns
There is enthusiasm and exuberance again
There is something to live for
And dreams are dreams
And hopes give hope-
When the poem returns life returns
And I begin again here
As if there is some sense after all
In writing and living again.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Until the lion tells his side of the story, the tale of the hunt will always glorify the hunter.
I Hunt
I hunt.
For specific kinds of meat.
I hunt.
To feed that desire within me I seek.
I hunt.
I do not keep my needs a secret.
I do not wish to discreet them in any way.
I hunt.
I want this known.
I want it easy for the meat,
To be captured and seasoned.
With a sauté done to taste.
And delayed at a minimum wait.
I hunt.
For specific kinds of meat.
I hunt.
To feed that desire within me I seek.
I hunt.
To satisfy what it is I do.
And grunt...
Sometimes,
Just before the morning dew appears.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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