The hunting party
One weekend a hunting party
comes together on Serfaas Lourens’s farm
and they consist out of family, friends
and town folk:
two teachers, the school principal,
a lawyer, a visiting advocate and magistrate.
The group is dressed in hunting clothes
and with four by four pickups they drive
through the open veldt
past the stream with the blue gum trees.
Guinea fowl and pheasants fly up into the air,
the vehicles brake in a cloud of dust
while hunter after hunter jumps down
with shotgun upon shotgun blasting into the air.
The son of Serfaas Lourens
is shooting with a ELG-12 bore
with red LG cartridges, as if
he wants to teach the older men something
but they find only pieces
of his guinea fowl
and with the trip back
Serfaas Lourens reprimands him
all the way to the homestead
to use the right ammunition.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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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Shotgun Wedding
(roy hammond)
People were standing, all around
At a shot gun wedding, here in this town
And Im a victim oh yea
Of a shotgun wedding
Cause your fathers got a gun
And there aint no place to run
Shotgun wedding and oh listen to me
Well I got to find a job
You, me, baby makes three
Shotgun, shotgun, shotgun, wedding oh yea
Cause your fathers got a gun
And there aint no place to run
Shotgun wedding
And all I could hear that day was
Do you take this woman
To be your lawful wedded wife
My my my my shotgun, shotgun, shotgun, shotgun wedding
I looked around
I looked around
And all I could see was a shotgun wedding....listen
But I tried to run from town
But her mother tracked me down
She said before I meet my maker,
Some mans gonna make an honest woman of my daughter
So it might as well be you
Oh daddy may be poor
But he owns a forty forty
Shotgun wedding
And oh Im walking up the aisle right now
Here comes the bride singing
Shotgun, shotgun, shotgun, shotgun, shotgun.....yea yeaaaa
I could of run away oh no I could be living high
Nobody could stop me now oh shotgun, shotgun
Just give me one more chance
Let me hear that bass boys that bass boys
Breaking my heart
Breaking my heart
Breaking my heart........
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Brief Short Story: Eve's Historical Mind
All what I inherited is to be a good hunter, eve learned to stay back with the elders and the children in the safe zone. I do not know much about her feelings while she is waiting. I am a hunter, I learned to control my feelings and sharp my mind while crossing the hunting zone.
I want eve to be a hunter too, and to experience the roughness of hunting, all the mystery of wilderness, and what is beyond the unknown.
poem by Atef Ayadi
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Early I Viewed The Morning's New Birth (Cavatina)
Early I viewed the morning's new birth,
the eastern sky
was aflame while I walked on a path
that wounded by
a small copse, some hillocks and a field,
up birds did fly,
pheasants and guinea-fowl screeched protest
while in nature I was extremely blest.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Wind Blows Rustling Through The Bush
The wind blows rustling through the bush
and only it and God knows where it is going,
when it disappears and nothing move in the veldt
and when it returns some grains of dust are blown away.
An ibises raises gleaming copper into the sky
while God finds some answers for His earth,
and it chatters while big wings slam against the wind,
as it flies high over a small wooded hillock.
Guinea fowl peck along in the red grass,
after the rain some small bulbs are growing,
some lovely flowers astonish the veldt
but still this world is wounded by man.
The wind blows rustling through the bush
and when it returns some grains of dust are blown away.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The gliding death angel
Only a dot is caught
in the early morning air
of the eagle
in its morning flight
where almost invisible small
it hangs storeys high
in radial winds
in a little dot against the blue
before with stretched out claws
lightning fast
as a shadow
it falls from heaven
with death
striking in precision.
[Reference: Arend speel doodsengel by Jan Lourens.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Snare
Where guinea fowl
nest against the cornfields
and I sometimes saw pheasants,
just on the other side of the tributary,
day after day I found
snares made from fishing gut,
or wire
that was destroying constantly
and I was very angry
when one morning
I found a small duiker there,
with a leg
into which the wire were wringing
and I liberated that small antelope.
poem by Gert Strydom
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When they wish to eat a vulture, they call it a guinea fowl.
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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Home invasion in Springs
Masked like the black criminals
that robs you of your car
and just there and there promises you death,
they arrived
with a mini bus taxi on the farm,
drove right through the farm gate
and at the front door
jumped out of the kombi
with five steps intruded into the house
to bring death to the farmer,
to rape the wife
and daughter.
The farmer heard the crash
at the gate,
he realized that it was big trouble
heard them in their own language command
to kill, while shot upon shot
was ringing from the front porch
and he though about the obliteration
of his whole family.
His wife was too far away
in the lounge busy with sewing
and he heard his daughter rushing screaming
to her mother
turned about hurried to the gun safe
and got hold of a pump action shotgun
with LG cartridges
and rushed down the hallway.
In the lounge four black criminals
aimed pistols at his daughter and wife
told them to strip themselves bare
and when they did not want to
one said to the others in his language
to kill them
while the farmer was sneaking
closer at the back of the lounge suite.
Just one glance from the farmer
made his wife and daughter fall to the ground
two shots came from the shotgun
lifting two of the gangsters right from their feet
and the other two started shooting
into the ceiling
and the wall of the lounge
and when the farmer fired again
they fled in fear to the outside
turning around to fire at the farmer
and another one dropped in his tracks,
the other ran wounded into the cornfield.
At the start the police, wanted to arrest
the farmer for the murder of the robbers,
but there was more than enough evidence
that it was self-defence,
even the farm workers
were witnesses
about the shooting, threat
of the robbers
and by his actions
the farmer saved himself, his wife and daughter
and the labourers praised him
as a kind and a just man
but at the church
some members regarded the farmer
as a mass killer
who had determined the fate of others with a shotgun.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Dont Shoot Shotgun
Run
(run for cover)
For for cover
Dont shoot!
Shoot!
Shes so dangerous
(shotgun!)
(gun!)
(dont shoot shotgun!)
Maybe Im wrong, maybe Im right
Fallin head over heals at the speed of light
Hey little miss heaven on earth
Whoa, wont you walk this way but I see a red alert
Oh, my senses say keep away
So dont shoot!
Dont shoot shotgun
Dream on nightmare
Touch n go
Dove turned destroyer, she cut you up, shes a slave of love
Run for cover, shes so dangerous
Undercover, shes so shameless
Dont shoot shotgun
You got me bitin my lip
Dont shoot shotgun!
Ya shootin straight from the hip
So dont shoot shotgun
Shoot me, baby!
Ow!
Hit n miss, flesh and blood
Shes sweet and indiscreet, she cant get enough
A little midnight madness
Oh baby, you cant hide
So wild n unpredictable
Step aside
cos youre, youre shooting wide
Oh
Shake it, shake it!
Ah, take this, little hit n miss
Oh
Dont shoot shotgun
You got me bitin my lip
Dont shoot shotgun!
Ya shootin straight from the hip
Dont shoot it!
Dont shoot shotgun!
Shake it, shake it!
Aw, take this little hit n miss
Ow!
(dont shoot! shotgun!)
Oh shoot it!
Dont shoot it!
Uh, oh shotgun!
Shoot me, baby!
Ow!
Let it blow!
song performed by by Def Leppard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Hunting Season Is Open
Gun hunting season opens tomorrow morning
my husband is gathering his hunting gear around.
He'll be getting up really early in the morning
way before the break of dawn.
He's trying his special orange hunting cap on
so that he's not mistaken for a deer.
Us wives always worry about that you know
it is one of a hunter's wifes greatest fears.
The weather is suppose to be very cold and rainy
my husband says that is the best weather for hunting in.
Because the deer are on the move much more
then when it's warmer like some recent days have been.
I will say a prayer to our Lord above
asking that He protect all hunters, on this opening day.
And that they all come back with that Buck or Doe their after
and no bullets from their guns shot go astray.
poem by Linda Winchell
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Meet the hunter.
Meet the hunter.
Oh, the day past and the sun disappear,
Night come and is time to put on the mask,
Hunger and ready to go hunting,
Hungry for meats and sausages,
Any catch both would be nice,
Boys and girls make the best to impress.
Holy showing legs and chest;
In this tiger den, with all hungry meats eater!
Hunting for a big fatty meat!
Who know the hunter will be hunts?
Let see who play the game smarter?
Dress in suit and tie, who know empty pocket or full?
Stand up front, the look can easily past everyone eyes.
If lucky you got a free drink, mostly you digs on your own pocket,
Be real stranger to stranger, buy you drinks?
In this western den, buy your own sweetie.
You think, you wise, really a fool!
Everyone out smart one another,
and nobody is a fool.
poem by See Fee Lee
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When The Cape Winter Rain Comes
When the Cape winter rain comes and falls softly
mushrooms rise up everywhere,
everywhere in the plantations and the dale
with the mud flowing around like brown soup
while fog that draws close over the hilltop,
and suddenly a rainbow appears over the pine tops,
while guinea fowl wander around in a large group
but nowhere any thunder bolt resounds
and this world sparkles like a small universe.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Duck! Don't Stick Your Neck Out
How many quacks does a quack quack quack
before he ducks for fish?
How many ducks does a quack quack duck
before his fish is fished?
How many geese's goose is cooked
because they ate up all the fish?
How many cooks cook geese
before their goose is cooked?
How many fowl fall foul
of fowl hunting cooks?
How many fowls' geese are cooked
before they flew from a foul hunting cook?
How many ducks' goose is cooked
because he didn't duck duck duck
when a fowl cook reached for his neck?
poem by David Taylor
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Twice As Much
Red-red-red-wine!
Red-red-red-wine on my lips and,
I am about to say something;
But the sweet of the meat is in the eater.
Does not the rain has a father?
Does not the rain has a mother?
For my ears have heard of you but now,
My own eyes have seen you too.
Twice as much,
As beautiful as the daughters of Iyyob;
For the stone which the builders rejected had become the head.
Today, i am the stone and you are my lover;
For i am the headstone of the corner.
Come and work in my vineyard,
And come and quench my heart with love;
Like a roasted turkey and cranbery source from Turkey.
Today you are mine and,
Like a roasted guinea-fowl from Guinea!
Come and make love tom me my sweet one.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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What I Go To School For
Her voice is echoed in my mind
I count the days till she is mine
Can't tell my friends cos they will laugh
I love a member of the staff
I fight my way to front of class
To get the best view of her ass
I drop a pencil on the floor
She bends down and shows me moreand#8230;.
That's what I go to school for
Even though it is a real bore
You can call me crazy
I know that she craves me
That's what I go to school for
Even though it is a real bore
Girlfriends I've had plenty
None like Miss Mackenzie
That's what I go to school for
That's what I go to school for
So she may be thirty-three
But that doesn't bother me
Her boyfriends working out of town
I find a reason to go round
I climb a tree outside her home
To make sure she is all alone
I see her in her underwear
I can't help but stop and stare
Everyone that u teach all day knows your looking at me in a different way
I guess thats why my marks are getting so high
I can see those tell tale signs telling me that I was on your mind
I could see that you want it more when you told me that I'm what you go to school for
I'm what you go to school for
She's packed her bag its in the trunk
Looks like she's picked herself a hunk
We drive past school to say goodbye
My friends they can't believe their eyesand#8230;.
song performed by by Busted from Busted
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
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