savannah game
cheetah zips past zebras
for an antelope
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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A Cheetah
By some seen as the kitten of wild cat family,
but it is no joke
when at a speed of
one hundred and ten kilometre per hour
a meter and half long Cheetah
of sixty kilograms comes racing at you
with bared teeth and outstretched piercing claws
and the yellow-brown coat with black spots
shimmers and you can see
the breast muscles retracting in power
and while on patrol, you are ready to shoot it down
but frozen like the Bushman tracker
its final direction averted me from shooting
with the powerful light machinegun
and in parts of a second
the cheetah flashed past
going at speed for the impala
that I did not notice before
of which the eyes were open wide with terror
and in a moment the cheetah tripped it,
with jaws locked around its throat
in a cloud of red-brown dust
pulled it down and laid there motionless
until the antelope stopped struggling.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Cheetah [2]
In the veldt were impalas, some oribi
and kudus roam around wild
a cheetah sneaks forward merciless
without even the zebras noticing
and when they rush away bewildered at speed,
when a cloud of dust rise in their mad run
it's as if his feet get wings
as if he rushes forward much faster
and suddenly catches up with a animal that he has chosen,
drags it down to the ground
and then the jaws of the hunter close like steel
while the other game mill around in a hundred fold.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Savannah
Do you ever think of me
When you lay your head down
Do you ever think of me
When he ain't around
Do you ever wonder why
Our love couldn't be
Ever since you said goodbye
Do you ever think of me
Chorus:
Savannah
The memory just won't fade
Savannah
I sure wish you'd stayed with me
Savannah
Do you ever see my face
In your new lover's eyes
Has my memory been erased
Am i out of your life
I still remember our first night
We made love so tenderly
So when he doesn't hold you right
Do you ever think of me
Chorus
If he ever lets you down
Happiness just can't be found
I'll still be here hangin' 'round
Savannah
Savannah
(do you ever think of me)
... repeat to fade
song performed by by Vince Gill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cheetah Glow
With those distinctive tear-stained eyes
The cheetah looked around,
With ears alert to realise
Each sudden nearby sound...
In hunting mode, the cheetah sensed
Each second one-by-one,
Alone, aloof and without friends
Beneath the burning sun...
The sizzling light shone down all day,
Upon the cheetah's fur,
To warm its cold heart all the way,
Whatever must occur...
For cheetahs want to stay alive,
Regardless of the cost...
They fight a war so they survive,
Until the war is lost...
This cheetah's stare looked left and right,
For something unaware,
Before the creature's taken flight
On land or in the air...
As fast as cheetah legs can run,
Starvation is the foe,
Beneath the ever-burning sun
That makes the cheetah glow...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Cheetah Glow'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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The Cheetah
The sweet sightful moves of an African cheetah
Swooping across the boilling sand of mid-africa
The sun continues to roast the warm fur coat of the feline
As it continues to stride through Africa devine.
It lays down on a rather heated up rock
The cheetah claimed it's resting area
But the reasons of its stop
Was its escape from Malaria
Coming to another increase in speed
The cheetah strolls the farmers of weed
It's green and has an escents of an unfirmiliar smell
But all it knows, was it was grown well.
Passing the various sites of note
The cheetah felt a tad of pain in its throat
The problem was, it couldn't investigate
about the rather dangerous thing it ate.
poem by N.C. Cusack
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The Great Game Massacre
Thomas Baines in eighteen sixty
made a painting
that he entitled “the massacre”
portraying a antelope slaughter
that was organized as a great hunt.
It was in honour of prince Alfred
(a son of queen Victoria)
who was visiting near Bloemfontein.
About a thousand natives
of the baRolong tribe were formed up
under the cover of the hills
armed with assegai spears
and joined on the plain enclosing twenty
to thirty thousand game.
The different kinds of game
grouped as separate herds
of springboks, wildebeests,
bonteboks, zebras and ostriches
and was rushing about
in great confusion,
crossing one another,
in sheer terror trampling each other
with rifles blazing away,
the natives screaming and using their spears
and huge clouds of dust closing over them.
.
The fiercely terrified wildebeests
made wild rushes trying time and again
to break through at places
but were killed with assegais
rushing back over the slain
while the other animals
milled around in the closing circle
and the bellowing
of the wounded animals
drew flocks of vultures
that filled the sky hovering
l’Envoi
with probably no more than
three thousand head of game braking through
in the narrow valley
sweeping past the house of Thomas Baines
and I can only conclude
that man is the most destructive
of all living creatures
on the face of the earth.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Cheetah Vigil
The cheetah vigil first began
When hunters searched for game,
With rifles hanging from each man
Until they each took aim...
Then friends and foes were near to death,
As they fell one-by-one,
Upon the ground to fight for breath,
Before their lives were done...
The sound of guns would spook the birds
That settled in the trees.
The elephants were lost for words,
As death crept by degrees...
The orphaned remnant left behind
Escaped while they had time,
With grief still stirring in each mind
At such a ghastly crime.
What magic would men think of next?
What callous acts would come?
The cheetah paused, looked back perplexed,
Like others feeling numb...
Who gave these men the right to kill
For souvenirs not food?
To stand and fire guns at will
In this calm neighbourhood?
The cheetah sighed with great dismay
That chilled his very soul,
Yet kept his vigil through that day
With utmost self-control...
Tenacity can change the heart,
Turn good folks into bad,
These hunters came and wouldn't part
Till they'd got what was had...
From this day forth, the rules had changed,
The cheetah knew that well...
For now, no peace could be arranged
Within this newborn Hell.
The vigilant may yet survive,
Forewarned with time to hide...
To stay the fastest cat alive
Despite the grief inside...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Cheetah Vigil'.
More Stephen Gayford poems:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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A Dry Savannah
Sun burning the arid safari plains,
Dusty tracks on a dry savannah.
Constant heat, no cool welcome rains,
Inhabited land of the true Afrikaner.
Giraffe, Elephant, Antelope and Lion,
Wandering free, this kingdom's theirs.
Strength and power, with limbs of iron,
One can so easily be taken unawares.
Hunters seek and beasts they perish,
Ivory claimed and illicit money made,
Sadness reigns, these we should cherish,
Skins and tusks, both are an illegal trade.
Veldt of Africa, look at the slain,
Dust rising up as the lorries roll,
Roasting land of the blood red stain,
No protection for them at the waterhole.
Sun burning the arid safari plains,
Dusty tracks on a dry savannah,
Noble creatures roaming these terrains,
Inhabited land of the true Afrikaner.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Couch The Comfort
Couch the comfort and bite the pain
Everybody play insane
There’s chaos at the zoo
Wild wild tigers come for you
And we can whip our way to safety once again
Until the children are all safe
until the children are all safe
until the children
are all safe
Bloods been drawn
down by the bodega store
There’s zebras and lions
and the lions eat the zebras
Over 12 dollars and mother hollars
Juan is gone
My eldest sons been eaten
yes my eldest sons been eaten
Lions run from the blue guns
Rob the poor to build the funds
And they’re running free
Just a little bit more
Too many antelope lose the war
So we couch the comfort and bite the pain
Everybody play insane
There’s chaos at the zoo
Wild wild tigers come for you
And we can whip our way to safety
once again
Until the children all learn
until the children all learn
until the children all learn
To be insane too
poem by Judd David
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A man cannot undo his past. can zebras wipe away their stripes?
Hard Hearted Hannah
In old Savannah
I said Savannah
The weather there is nice and warm
The climate's of a southern brand
But here's what I don't understand
They've got a gal there
A pretty gal there
Who's colder than an artic storm
Got a heart just like a stone
Even nice men leave her alone
They call her "hard hearted Hannah"
The vamp of Savannah
The meanest gal in town
Leather is tough, but Hannah's heart is tougher
She's a gal who loves to see men suffer
To tease them and thrill 'em
To torture and kill 'em
Is her delight they say
I saw her at the seashore with a great big pan
There was Hannah pourin' water on a drownin' man
She's hard hearted Hannah
The vamp of Savannah, G-A
The call her "hard hearted Hannah"
The vamp of Savannah
The meanest gal in town
Talk of your cold, refridgerating mamas
Brotha she's a polar bear's pajamas
To tease them and thrill 'em
To torture and kill 'em
Is her delight they say
An evening spent with Hannah sitting on your knees
Is like travelin' through Alaska in your BVDs
She's hard hearted Hannah
The vamp of Savannah, G-A
Can you imagine a woman as cold as Hannah?
She's got the right name "the vamp of Savannah"
Anytime a woman can take a great big pan
Start pourin' water on a drownin' man
She's hard hearted Hannah
The vamp of Savannah, G-A
Spoken: Ooh! She's sweet as sour milk.
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The antelope is graced
I find an antelope in her swiftness,
Fragility, narrow head and coyness,
Yet, an antelope as such I had no love for.
She should be more than it to love for.
03.02.2002, Pkd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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In the Bushveldt
A crow flies croaking in the game park,
indignant about vultures that descent,
where they act out their antics, pecking,
at remains left by the lions.
I stay detecting through the open window,
and drive a day's journey past gigantic trees of teak
drink ice cold cool drink while we talk pleasantly
and I notice zebras, elephants, a leopard and then this:
three lion cubs that eat voracious, unhindered,
and they look as innocent as small kitten
with the sun touching their fur with patches
until the male roars, makes its presence known.
A crow flies croaking in the game park,
at remains left by the lions.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A hunting expedition
Far off in the bush veldt near to Marken,
where the red sand lies like sea sand,
a young hunter on a day
takes a old.303 rifle with open sights
and walks following a tracker,
that they call a guide,
past green thorn trees
with long white camel-thorns
to where a impala
is standing against a hillock
and he aims for a headshot
and I say to him: “shoot for the shoulder-blade”
but he doesn’t listen
and when the shot resounds
the antelope lowers its head
and the bullet whistles away from a rock plate
with the antelope
running away in a red brown stripe
disappearing into the bushes
and the bush veldt sun
burns without mercy down on us.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sunset
The cheetah rested, there to stay,
So statuesque and still...
Just gently taking in the day...
To mellow and to chill.
Life isn't always running round,
All frantic, to and fro...
Sometimes it's settling on the ground
Or simply walking slow.
Sunset would soon be here once more...
The daylight dimmed to black.
The moonlight shining to restore
The golden glow we lack...
The cheetah watched the changing pace
The cooling breeze must bring,
Before each midnight from deep space
God's stars start sparkle-ing...
Staring skyward, the cheetah knew
The future that must be...
It doesn't matter what we do,
Each sunset sets us free...
Yes, some will sleep while others wake,
Yet each lives for a time...
Till something comes our lives to take...
Yet life goes on sublime...
Our children face the future fields
And they will question why
Another crop each grows and yields
And never seems to die...
The cheetah rested patiently...
Appointments he had none...
He only felt tranquillity
Beneath the gentle sun...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Sunset'.
Gayford poems on denis-martindale(dot) blogspot(dot) com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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High Speed Train
When I look into your eyes.
Your drop like an anchor eyes.
I scudded and clipped the sky
Just shy of making it.
And you almost got away.
I told you I was afraid.
Did I really want to try
You're holding me to my claim
I jump on a high speed train
I'll never look back again
I flail like the antelope
Who jumped from the building
and you caught me on the sly
you've taken me by surprise.
you've mirrored my best disguise and
turned it back on me.
I jump on a high speed train
I'll never look back again
I flail like the antelope
Who jumped from the building
I jump on a high speed train
I'll never look back again
To Berlin, Kyoto or Marseilles
I'd go anywhere for you
I'll bring you a big bouquet
I picked it myself today
it compliments your eyes
there's love at the end of the line
I jump on a high speed train
I'll never look back again
I flail like the antelope
Who jumped from the building
I jump on a high speed train
I'll never look back again
To Berlin, Kyoto or Marseilles
I'd go anywhere for you
And that's what I always knew
I'd like to have hung the moon.
I'd wrestle you for a spoon inside your sleeping bag.
Just us.
No war. no hate. no past.
It's real.
I'm here. I'm yours. I'm fast.
I'm long in the eye
I'm cry when I try
I just want to fly
Just you and I, together
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cheetah
When I was her and she was me
We got along till we became ourselves
When she was me and I was her
We got along till we became ourselves
And trampled in this rut divide our stuff,
Were breaking up
.
You cant believe
How much pain callin
My mama everyday
When I calmed down and saw the sun
Put down the bottle, put down the gun
Ive had enough,
Divide our stuff were breaking up
.
Were breakin up!
Cheetah?
Were breakin up!
Cheetah?
song performed by by Live
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cheetah (Studio Version)
when I was her and she was me
we got along till we became ourselves
when she was me and I was her
we got along till we became ourselves
and trampled in this rut divide our stuff,
we're breaking up
.
you can't believe
how much pain callin'
my mama everyday
when i calmed down and saw the sun
put down the bottle, put down the gun
i've had enough,
divide our stuff we're breaking up
.
we're breakin' up!
cheetah?
we're breakin' up!
cheetah?
song performed by by Live
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thirst Quencher
Both young and old, the zebras came,
To dare to drink again.
Not one of these would know God's Name,
Yet He had sent the rain...
So while the zebras drank their fill,
From empty to the brim,
Not one of these possessed the skill
To offer thanks to Him...
The sizzling sun shone in the sky
Providing heat and light,
Yet none of these could question why
Each owned the gift of sight...
The cool, cool breeze began to blow...
To grant them some relief,
Yet none of these would ever know
True faith or true belief...
Yet there was love within their hearts,
As they stood side-by-side.
This precious gift that never parts,
For conscience is its guide...
While water brings both joy and strife,
Without it, love would end...
May God help zebras to survive,
With water as their friend...
Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Thirst Quencher'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sunset (Second Version)
The cheetah rested, there to stay,
So statuesque and still...
Just gently taking in the day...
To mellow and to chill.
Life isn't always running round,
All frantic, to and fro...
Sometimes it's settling on the ground
Or simply walking slow.
Sunset would soon be here once more...
The daylight dimmed to black.
The moonlight shining to restore
The golden glow we lack...
The cheetah watched the changing pace
The cooling breeze must bring,
Before each midnight from deep space
God's stars start sparkle-ing...
Staring skyward, the cheetah knew
The future that must be...
It doesn't matter what we do,
Each sunset sets us free...
Yes, some will sleep while others wake,
Yet each lives for a time...
Till something comes our lives to take...
Yet life goes on sublime...
Our children face the future fields
And they will question why
Another crop each grows and yields
And never seems to die...
Yet those that swim, fly, walk and run
All perish soon enough,
As if one task must yet be done -
To fall in love with love...
The cheetah rested patiently...
Appointments he had none...
He only felt tranquillity
Beneath the gentle sun...
The version of the poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Sunset'.
Gayford poems on denis-martindale(dot) blogspot(dot) com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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