The Hunter (Narrative Poetry)
His time and wealth all there
For him, possessed just to enjoy
But hunting was a pleasure where
His shooting skills he could employ.
Flew his plane to the island
At will, he shot the fleeing birds
The gun obeyed his able hand
Only the sound of death was heard.
One shot took down the creature
Its partner gave a chilling cry,
As though its heart the bullet tore
Seeing its Love, fall there to die.
Around, around, it wailed in anguish
A bird lamenting the one it lost
It would not leave the love it cherished
Unmindful of what it would cost.
The man was dazed, he felt its pain,
It tormented his ears with grief.
Shot it down where its love had lain
Sealed the union, though it was brief.
That day he left, and never came back.
Vowed never more to kill for pleasure
The bird had shown what he really lacked,
Real peace and concern for Nature.
Cynthia Buhain Baello
11.10.12
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Shot
There was a shot,
A shot fleeing through the dark night,
And all around was still
For fear of being found
As it whistled past the widows
Of every man, woman, child.
Searching.
Looking to rip and tear and kill,
And penetrate
The innocent flesh
Of any being, anywhere at all
There was a shot,
The sound came cracking through my dreams,
Impersonal and deadly
And hunting for the flesh
Of anyone who ever felt
Who ever laughed and sang,
Hunting,
Getting ready for the kill.
I will not let them die,
The ones who,
When the time comes,
Will live and love and grow.
I step out into the treacle night
And the bullet thuds home.
poem by Clover West
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A Shooting Star Flew By One Night
A shooting Star flew by one night
I wished upon its burning light
I wished for love to fill a heart
For love taken away in the dark
A Shooting Star flew by one night
I wished upon its burning light
My wish was answered by you and you
Who would have known the love of few
Would grow to heaven’s blue
A Shooting Star flew by one night
I wished upon its burning light
A knight in shining armor you might not be
A protector with strength and love you have given me
A Shooting Star flew by one night
I wished upon its burning light
Your love for us you have not failed
You took our hands and rode the Shooting Star’s tail
A Shooting Star flew by one night
I wished upon its burning light
Although I wished for many more
My love for you I will always adore
A Shooting Star flew by one night
I wished upon its burning light
May heaven bring us Peace
Your love for us will never cease
poem by Anthony Wayne Parran
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The Beat
Were all going on a summer holiday
Vigilantes coming out to follow me.
Heard somebody say theyre out to collar me.
Anybody wanna swallow me?
It takes two to tumble. it takes two to tango.
Speak up; dont mumble if youre in the combo.
On the beat, on the beat.
Till a man comes along and he says,
have you been a good boy, never played with your toy?
Though you never enjoy, such pleasure to employ.
See your friends in the state their in.
See your friends getting under their skin.
See your friends getting taken in.
Well, if you only knew the things you do to me.
Id do anything to confuse the enemy.
Theres only one thing wrong with you befriending me.
Take it easy. I think youre bending me.
Ive been a bad boy with the standard leader.
My neighbors revving up his vauxhall viva.
On the beat, on the upbeat.
Till a man comes along and he says,
have you been a good boy, never played with your toy?
Though you never enjoy, such pleasure to employ.
See your friends walking down the street.
See your friends never quite complete.
See your friends getting under their feet.
Oh, I dont want to disease you,
But Im no good with machinery.
Oh, I dont wanna freeze you.
Stop looking at the scenry.
I keep thinking about your mother.
Oh, I dont wanna lick them.
I dont wanna be a lover.
I just wanna be your victim.
I dont go out much at night.
I dont go out much at all.
Did you think you were the only one
Who was waiting for a call
On the beat, on the upbeat.
Till a man comes along and he says,
have you been a good boy, never played with your toy?
Though you never enjoy, such pleasure to employ.
See your friends treat me like a stranger.
See your friends despite all the arrangements.
See your friends nothing here has changed.
Just the beat.
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wishing on a shooting star
I wished upon a shooting star
As it went through the sky,
I wished upon a shooting star
As it shot right by.
I wished upon a shooting star
That my prayers would all come true,
I wished upon a shooting star
And then I thought of you.
I wished upon a shooting star
And noticed I was crying,
I wished upon a shooting star
And realized I was dying.
I wished upon a shooting star
But my wish never came true,
I wished upon a shooting star
And hoped it would get me through.
I wished upon a shooting star
That the she would still be there,
I wished upon a shooting star
That she would always care.
I wished upon a shooting star
Here in this night sky,
I wished upon a shooting star
That our love will never die.
poem by Xx Charmer Xx
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Opposite displeasure
Success gives pleasure.
Conquest gives pleasure.
Revenge gives pleasure.
Hunting gives pleasure.
Coveting gives pleasure.
Mind; every pleasure
Gives equal and opposite
Displeasure to others.
In a way we act as sadists
04.05.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The game ranch
We went to visit my cousins
on their game ranch
and you hated it there
although every thing
was very comfortable
and you were well cared for.
What had set you off?
I still do not know,
but at breakfast you were already furious
although everybody
danced to serve and entertain you.
Was it the hunting tales
of the previous night
around the blazing big fire,
or the bush hog
that the Spaniard boasted
about killing,
which almost smashed him
of which his wife
had taken a video?
At the shooting range
some cool drink tins were set
and you didn’t want any help from me
and didn’t really listen
to the instructions from my cousins,
closing your eyes with every shot
that you took with the pistol
and missed every target by a mile.
I looked at the nine-millimetre pistol
with its missing front sight
and both my cousins smiled
as if conspiring with each other
and I clasped both hands together
in a well taught military hold
and your eyes went big,
almost popping out of your head
while the row of tins
was shot off
in what sounded like almost one shot.
On instruction I shot at the fallen tins
letting them jump into the air
until the magazine was empty
and the cousins
put matches standing up on bricks
and gave me a old.303 rifle
with an open sight.
I aimed carefully before pressing the trigger
and shot those matches down
and on your face
there was a frown
and even before we left
to go hunting
with some trackers
you looked at me
as if I had turned into a killer
and was going to shoot
at every living thing.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Hunting dreams
Please, do not follow me any more
I am tired of your shadow and of your kisses in my dreams.
Let me go, and please return to where you belong.
You know I cannot go with you there where you going.
Do not hunting me and my dreams, and don’t close my eyes
Let me go, because it is impassible to love a ghost
Don’t hunting me and my dreams any more…and don’t close my eyes, because you can’t possessed me, I’m not a toy! !
Return to your twilight zone and close the door behind you.
In addition, do not even thing about it coming back to hunting my dreams. I will become your hunting nightmare!
poem by Vanesa Rabic
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Red Baron / Blue Max
The son of a major, Prussian nobleman
His name bestowed by a holy Roman
The war broke out, and looked to the air
24 hours of training he was there
100 miles an hour, top speed his plane would fly
and if he flew behind you, you know you're sure to die
Eighty kills, that are confirmed
While other pilots have so much more to learn
Red Baron! Blue Max! The albatross flies high
Red Baron! Blue Max! He's got you in his sights
The Red-Battle Flyer
Roll right fire
He sees no faces
The ace of aces
His British quarry flew a reckless flight
A shot from the ground took the red baron's life
He flew with honor, he flew with pride
In 1918, The battle flyer died
Chorus
The red baron...Blue max!
The albatross flies high
The red baron...Blue max!
He's got you in his sight!
song performed by by Iced Earth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Suicide
I can go any time
Any where, in any direction
Just like the shooting star.
Why should I go?
Did I know I was coming?
So I must postpone my early going.
I shall drink the moon light
And the sight of shooting stars with delight
I shall enjoy the nature's charm and grace
I shall rejoice the humanity's infectious face
I know after every pain there is pleasure
After every sadness, gladness
After every adversaries, an advantage
I promise I shall never bow down
I shall fight back and let my life go on
If I have not come here of my own
Somebody has sent me with definite purpose
So there is no need to go early I suppose
Rather it will be better
To find the answer
To do the most desirable duty,
Who, how, when and why!
Long, long ago I wanted to die
Someone says somebody somewhere is waiting
So I must postpone my early going! !
poem by Abdul Wahab
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The Island poem.
The Island was there surrounded by sea,
Where the family stayed, so much to see;
The birds flying in the sky, and on the water too,
Yes! They were enjoying their holiday, it's true.
The Island stretched for many a mile, they could see,
With plenty of shells, and sand, the sunsets so pretty;
The Coconut palms, and date palms, to walk in the cool,
And the children enjoyed it all, for there was no school.
The husband enjoyed to go fishing each day,
The children loved to run on the sand and play;
The wife, she enjoyed it too, to rest under the tree,
Then she called them all at night, it is time for tea.
The Island holiday soon came to an end,
The children said, our holiday we can pretend;
That we are still on our lovely holiday retreat,
And remember the birds, and the birds so sweet.
Have you ever been to an Island, for a holiday?
Maybe you travelled far, to Queensland, is what you'd say;
Or was it somewhere in the Islands of the south see?
You'll know it was a holiday to feel so very free.
poem by Margaret Haig
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The first time I shot the hook, I was in fourth grade, and I was about five feet eight inches tall. I put the ball up and felt totally at ease with the shot. I was completely confident it would go in and I've been shooting it ever since.
quote by Kareem Abdul-Jabar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You know, I've carried a weapon for 10 years, never shot anybody, never robbed anybody. It has saved my life twice, but I know they're not toys. I practice with firearms, I enjoy shooting, it's a hobby of mine and I have a healthy respect for them.
quote by Luke Scott
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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The Banyan Tree Vavroovahana Patra
Banyan tree looks beautiful;
Birds fly on the tree are delightful.
Beauteous is the environment;
Beautiful leaves provide merriment.
Green trees provide oxygen daily;
God guys and girls rest beneath the tree gaily.
Glad lovers derive peace;
Glamorous atmosphere provides Divine Bliss.
Valley’s trees attract travelers;
Valiant poets enjoy the beauty with pleasure.
Various birds play on the tree gaily;
Vagabond boys enjoy the beauty enthusiastically.
The tree on road side entices women, men daily;
Travelers enjoy the beauty gaily.
Birds fly gleefully;
Children plays beneath the tree pleasantly.
Nature lures all travelers;
Provides peace pleasure.
Beauty of Nature is enticing;
Poets are delighting.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Deer Hunting Time Is Here Again
Deer hunting time is here again
And many hunters take to the woods
After months of planning with family and friends
They gather in common brotherhood
It's a freedom that fills the soul of a man
With the peace of God's nature all around
Lessons that have been taught since time began
And lifelong memories and friendships are found
Hunting is taught by tradition still yet
Knowledge passed on from man to man
And you'll learn things that you'll never forget
And respect nature more, our wildlife, and our land
So all you hunters enjoy this time
May you be skilled and have lots of luck
May God bless you as you hunt today
And may you bag that ten point buck! !
Dedicated to my Father who enjoyed hunting with family and friends all of his life. He died of a heart attack on the opening day, while hunting with my brothers and uncles. He could not have asked for a better way to go, doing what he loved most!
poem by Kathleen West
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Hurry Before You Perish
Time is running out
Hurry before you perish
Smile and laugh
As much as you can
Love every near and dear
Enjoy life without any fear
Let the eyes see
Wonders of nature
The flowing rivers,
The rising seas,
High mountains,
And the green trees
Listen to the music of birds
Smell the
Fragrance of flowers
Play in the snow
Wander in the jungles
Nobody knows
When one has to leave
So don’t waste your time
Live life with pleasure
Enjoy it to the fullest
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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On The Last Minute That You Boarded The Plane
on the last minute that you boarded
the plane
and you think
it is the one owned by God,
sorry, so sorry, that plane left
a minute ago,
and you were not
on its manifest
you boarded the wrong plane
and that is the truth
enjoy your ride,
and pray
who knows
you may catch up on the next flight
to purgatory.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Misfitness
I would not allow you in my space...
If I did not enjoy those expressions,
You create on your face.
With a bit of coy you employ to seduce.
You know you are too young for me.
Why do you tease?
What is it,
You wish me to reveal for you,
To see?
You introduce a misfitness to this.
Knowing our age differences...
Has me a little queasy.
And just a bit uneased.
You introduce a misfitness to this.
Why have you picked me,
To victimize and solicit!
I would not allow you in my space...
If I did not enjoy those expressions,
You create on your face.
With a bit of coy you employ to seduce.
You know you are too young for me.
Why do you tease?
What is it,
You wish me to reveal for you,
To see?
My willingness to strip naked?
With a promise your misfitness once given...
I can not resist and will miss.
After doing what is done on a firm mattress.
I would not allow you in my space...
If I did not enjoy those expressions,
You create on your face.
With a bit of coy you employ to seduce.
Introduced,
With applied misfitness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Set them free..They will multiply..
Watching the birds is real fun,
no need dime, only the time,
colorful birds to colored birds,
chirping birds to singing birds,
flying birds to walking birds,
cunning birds to love birds,
Watching birds is just a lesson,
making mind to have a vision.
collect the twigs to make the nest,
one by one, they think the best,
choose the right tree,
just high and free,
Making the nest perfect,
without any single defect,
The birds toil together or alone,
all day long until it is done.
I bought two love birds,
that were kept in a cage.
Hung the cage under the balcony,
above the reach of dogs not felony.
chirping disturbed their sleep,
Nikko, the dog set them free.
Only two flew away,
but I have a few dozens now,
making their nests,
right in front of me, on the trees.
Watching the birds is real fun,
no need dime, only the time.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Even leaves beg me'' says Eagle
eagle, niggard and black
perched on sycomore on Nile bank
tasty fish gambolled in water
at lightening speed eagle caught
tasty fish and scrambled out
eagle flew and perched on a tree
man was under a tree
and glanced at what sat on tree
eagle and man eyes met at ninety angle
eagle flew away saying
''man may conjure him
by evil eyes''
eagle flew and perched on second tree
some birds were on that tree
Eagle and others birds eyes met at ninety angle
eagle flew away saying he
'' choke as birds watch him eating''
Eagle flew and perched on third tree
the breeze shook leaves of tree
eagle saw leaves unfolded shaking
like a begging hand
eagle flew away saying
'' everything beg me , even leaves
beg me too''
Eagle flew and perched on fourth withered tree
no birds, men and leaves around there
only exrtreme silence around there
eagle ate tasty fish
sang in loudest resounding voice
''eel fish and tasty fish are not the same
I ate tasyty fish until heart palpitated in happiness''
poem by David Aoloch Bion
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