The Vengeance
The Vengeance
There is no war it is all happening on TV, for our
entertainment, I look out of the window and see
no dead bodies, no blood or bombed buildings,
or soldiers prancing about, except Pedro coming
back after hunting rabbits. He hates rabbits since
one chased him and bit his bum, he was twelve
at the time but the indignity made him malicious.
He hunts rabbits in the morning, they hear him
come and hide in burrows, except for the unwise
that think they can make play hide and seek with
him. Pedro is a crack shot and at times bag one,
which is good for us, had he always missed his
hatred may have grown to include us and the war
would move from the TV screen on to our street.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Rabbit
Rabbits, rabbits everywhere
Bigger than a rat
Smaller than a hare
Jump, hop in the grass
Eating carrots
Hoping fast
Rabbits, rabbits fluffy fur
Hunting season
They hustle and stir
Pointy ears, bushy tails
Wet nose
Hind legs down the trail
Rabbits, rabbits into holes
Time for bed
Bless their souls
Now all tucked in and put to sleep
No noise in the hole
Not even a peep
poem by TaBresha Bozeman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hunting Season
hunting season
Every Saturdays and Sunday there is a war going on in the woods,
man against birds and rabbits. On my lemon tree sparrows and
hawks sit and wait for Monday. In my garden rabbits seek shelter
from shoot gun pellets, eat my flowers and dig holes. My dog is
desperate its instinct is to go out and kill them. Killing for sport, is
like bullfighting without spectators, grown men, sneaking about
amongst trees slaughtering the innocent; not unlike the Settlers
behaviour against the Palestinian olive pickers and goat herders.
Monday morning I shovel wheel barrow’s full of bird droppings
from the ground that is also full of holes. Something got to be done
with these awful animals, why do they not move to neighbouring
woods and seek shelter there?
poem by Oskar Hansen
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People's dreams are made out of what they do all day. The same way a dog that runs after rabbits will dream of rabbits. It's what you do that makes your soul, not the other way around.
quote by Barbara Kingsolver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Winter Terror
As the days grow shorter and nights longer,
the rabbits change color and the foxes change too...
While trappers grow excited,
to go out and get a few.
This is because the change of color,
and the money for pelts...
Some make the fur and skin into,
fancy leather belts.
During winter rabbits and foxes,
need to run and hide...
If they were caught,
you'd bet they died.
Family
Family can be difficult,
sometimes even hard...
Either way you always get,
a birthday card.
You may disagree,
wtih Mom or Dad...
Then you might remember,
all the good times you've had.
You'll start to cry,
and then they say...
'A family we are,
a family we'll stay.'
poem by Cally A. Nixon
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Random Thoughts
In the hot summer morning light,
I stood looking from a great height.
And to my right there was a pack,
Of dogs, barking for a snack.
And on the road to Naukuchiatal,
There lay a dead man.
But I guess I was mistaken,
For he woke up and smiled.
What is death I wondered?
Pain, sadness, oblivion?
Or
Relief, bliss, happiness?
In a clearing nearby,
There were some rabbits snowy white.
He neared and made a noise,
Thinking they might like.
But ran away the rabbits shy,
Thinking any moment they might die.
What is life I wondered?
Prejudice, inequality, discrimination?
Or
Fame, power, pleasure?
Thoughts keep coming and going,
And so do people.
But each has in mind what he's supposed to do.
Obstacles come and go,
Never fear them for you can find a way out.
It is true, any time now we might die,
And yet, anytime now we might perceive a moment of joy.
poem by Anushna Satapathy
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Just an Idle Poem
A cargo plane, loaded with white rabbits, got lost in a heavenly
storm and landed on the moon, the pilot declared himself king.
The second pilot would have none of it, slew the pilot, declared
a republic, with him as president, and freed the rabbits.
When all the little bottles of booze planes carry for hospitality,
were empty the president got depressed and threw himself;
off the moon, was sucked up into a black hole and woke up on
the Australian outback and got a job a camel rider with an all
consuming hatred for airline pilots. The moon rabbits, however,
thrived lived on nourishing dust and moon dew. But slowly they
changed appearance and became moonbeams that lit up parks
summer nights and make lovers swoon. A cynic may say they
became inconsequent spectres, useless as a poem written for
pleasure and lacking in moral judiciousness.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Judgment pending
The god is too busy to take note of
Your complaints against your sinners.
He still sits on trillions like this:
From grass against rabbits,
From rabbits against fox
From small fish against big fish
Sins were committed here with no
Provocations from the victims though
12.06.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Coloured Eggs
Coloued eggs for a culture,
And of he story of a rabbit that laid them!
Oh, this culture is yet to know the truth;
For rabbits do not lay eggs!
Why should they teach the children this way?
And of coloured eggs lay by rabbits;
But this culture cannot change,
For history had made them so.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Howlin At The Moon
Words and music by hank williams, sr.
I [c] know theres never been a man in the awful [c7] shape Im [f] in
I cant even [c] spell my name, my [d7] heads in such a [g7] spin
To-[c] day I tried to eat a steak with a big old [c7] table-[f] spoon
You got me chasin rabbits, [c] walkin on my hands
...and [g7] howlin at the [c] moon.
Well, (*sug), I took one look at you and it almost drove me mad
And then I even went and lost what little sense I had
Now I cant tell the day from night, Im crazy as a loon
You got me chasin rabbits, pullin out my hair and howlin at the moon.
Some friends of mine asked me to go out on a huntin spree
cause there aint a hound dog in this state that can hold a light to me
I eat three bones for dinner today, then tried to tree a coon
You got me chasin rabbits, scratchin fleas and howlin at the moon.
I rode my horse to town to day and a gas pump we did pass
I pulled im up and I hollered whoa!, said fill im up with gas
The man picked up a monkey wrench and wham!, he changed my tune
You got me chasin rabbits, spittin out teeth and howlin at the moon.
I never thought in this old world a fool could fall so hard
But honey baby, when I fell the whole world must have jarred
I think Id quit my doggish ways if youd take me for your groom
You got me chasin rabbits, pickin out rings and howlin at the moon
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The buffalo is all gone, and an Indian can't catch enough jack rabbits to subsist himself and his family, and then, there aren't enough jack rabbits to catch. What are they to do?
quote by George Crook
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Walk in the Country
I walked by the river
Where it is usually so quiet and peaceful.
Crazy kids on motorbikes sounded
Like trapped bluebottles in a summer kitchen,
But the January light was still beautiful.
Jackdaws wheeled above with their sharp cries
And there were dead rabbits among the puddles,
Victims of weasels or foxes or who knows what.
Suddenly a jet-fighter ripped the sky open with a loud scream.
A gun went off, some enthusiast shooting
At the jackdaws or rabbits.
Then silence again.
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Puppy And I
I met a Man as I went walking:
We got talking,
Man and I.
'Where are you going to, Man?' I said
(I said to the Man as he went by).
'Down to the village, to get some bread.
Will you come with me?' 'No, not I.'
I met a horse as I went walking;
We got talking,
Horse and I.
'Where are you going to, Horse, today?'
(I said to the Horse as he went by).
'Down to the village to get some hay.
Will you come with me?' 'No, not I.'
I met a Woman as I went walking;
We got talking,
Woman and I.
'Where are you going to, Woman, so early?'
(I said to the Woman as she went by).
'Down to the village to get some barley.
Will you come with me?' 'No, not I.'
I met some Rabbits as I went walking;
We got talking,
Rabbits and I.
'Where are you going in your brown fur coats?'
(I said to the Rabbits as they went by).
'Down to the village to get some oats.
Will you come with us?' 'No, not I.'
I met a Puppy as I went walking;
We got talking,
Puppy and I.
'Where are you going this nice fine day?'
(I said to the Puppy as he went by).
'Up to the hills to roll and play.'
'I'll come with you, Puppy,' said I.
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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0010 Memory
and brought back with her
the first few primroses she did not pick
tucked neat into the hedgerow
a wisp of sheepwool
caught on wire she did not touch
a dewdro p which the sun caught as she passed
rabbits who lifted softbrush ears
paused then hopped away and yet not fast
a slight breeze which did not touch the primroses
which blew the wisp of sheepwool a little for a moment
which trembled the dewdro p into colours
and yet it stayed on the grass stalk
in the night
the primroses sheltered in her and grew imperceptibly
the sheepwool almost touched her
the dewdro p joined the air around her
the rabbits slept close to her
the breeze sighed and waited outside the window
in the morning they awoke together
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Vedanta
VEDANTA
We don’t know
From where &
On what conditions
Our Master brought a
Blood thirsty Tiger
To our land &
Said-
Come Dear!
Welcome to my soil
And prey on
All the Deers, Rabbits, Men & Asses…
In gay abandon
The Tiger leapt into our land
And started devouring one by one
Our Deers, Rabbits, Men & Assess…
In one breath
And finished all
In some days.
Now,
No one remains alive in our land
Except, the hungry Tiger &
Master of ours.
poem by Debendra Lal
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Retiring Early
A man who did retire early
each night, and was a rather burly
well-fed and stocky specimen,
would always have lights out at ten.
One evening, it was in May,
the month when younger folk will play,
he somehow failed, did not remember
woke up next day, it was November.
This shows the act of breaking habits
should really be left to rabbits.
You see, a rabbit either sleeps
or checks the basement, where it keeps
digested pellets for re-use,
but rabbits always (is this news?)
are in the mood to....well, to hop,
they'll do this easily, non-stop.
So, if a rabbit oversleeps,
he's done his homework, heaps and heaps,
it matters little, but for man
he's got to do it while he can.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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Hunting With Dad
I'm going hunting with my dad.
And trust me it's not bad.
I'm hunting rabbits, and squirrels, and stuff.
I might even hunt in a bluff.
This weekend will be so fun.
Just a father and his son.
poem by Garrett Hager
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The Hunter And Dog
The Hunter.
The man who crosses the field carries his shotgun
tucked into his left arm. In his belt five rabbits hang.
This is not a hobby hunter in camouflage outfit,
but a mall time farmer who uses the wildlife to
augment his meager income… his dog that has been
walking at heel runs in front of him, barks, and up
from the tall, dry grass a rabbit springs a shot and
now he has six rabbits hanging from his belt….
He will sell his catch later at a hotel or restaurant.
The man who crossed field, his face is naturally dark,
by years spent outdoors, walks into a landscape of
trees and bushes and disappears from view.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Who goes hunting without dogs, comes home without rabbits.
Go hunting for rabbits - be eaten by wolves.
It is difficult to produce a television documentary that is both incisive and probing when every twelve minutes one is interrupted by twelve dancing rabbits singing about toilet paper.
quote by Rod Serling
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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