Poems About: HUNTING

Upon this threshold of disaster
The birth of the eleventh plague
The fires burn at night, I begin to doubt the smell of burning flesh
Will ever fade away read more »

Orla Hunt runs through
The fog and the wilderness
To the man with the cheap card sign.
The badly well-dressed man, read more »

It must be a fallacy that dead canines can fly
But of the mystery in myths and legends one cannot deny
And one legend I recall from decades gone by
Is when an O Keeffe dies in Cullen dogs bark in the sky. read more »

I hunt.
For specific kinds of meat.
I hunt.
To feed that desire within me I seek. read more »

Without the luxury or remorse,
of the kennelled cops on horse;
the addict dogs patrol the airport lounge.
I'm an Officer of the Force, read more »

They only killed enough of fish, birds and animals to insure their own survival and what they did kill they did eat
For their women their elders and children they had to hunt to bring home meat
They hunted with spears, bows and arrows nowadays men hunt with a gun
Which puts the hunted at a great disadvantage as no living creature a bullet can outrun. read more »

The word-smith hunting
Pen weapon poised, spears a word
Mindful poem hunter read more »

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eyes hunt

heart read more »

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