Best Scavenger Poems
To bid farewell to you was life's cruel pun
while love remains so deep within my heart,
unending, as flames of fire in the sun.
Death, the dark scavenger, tore us apart.
Without my hand in yours, moonlight grew dull,
facets of stars lost their glitter and fell.
More lonesome than cries of a lone seagull
is my soul when I weep, "Love, death did quell."
Heavenly forms hold meaning for others,
those who soar to greatest height on love's wings.
But I am bereft. Loneliness smothers
when I recall sharing those wondrous things.
To be yours once more would brighten the moon
Of love and life, both were slain much too soon.
(1)
Strophe
Slowly and slowly fly the mighty feathers:
the uncanny wrath bearer, the poacher's prey,
the bald bizzare stigmatic cryptic creature, the ecology's majestic role player;
the curtain raiser of ecosystem's air purifier.
Alas! Your iconographic role is omitted,
you, the saviour of the mortal race
from the contagious diseases.
Astounded! How you uncontaminated dear environment.
Your poaching has taken away
the soul of the balanced ecosystem;
crucial is saviour friend's presence, on the verge of extinction plight might have horrid ripple effect!
(2)
Antistrophe
Irony! The friend's void can't be substituted by mere replicas of sustainable development;
the diminishing existence will
drastically affect the local food webs!
How alluring to have a glimpse
of the hunch and tuck of the bird's head in the cold,
flapping and fluttering the wings,
stretching the neck in the heat!
You, remain aloft for hours,
soars gracefully on long broad wings;
with dazzling sharp eyes
from the highlands to pick the carrion!
(3)
Epode
Your iconographic presence is being honoured by the myths, legends, fables of civilizations from ages.
High time to contemplate, to introspect,
to jump into the ecosystem's integral bandwagon:
as pivotal to rescue and redeem the bird's friendly endangered existence!
All Rights Reserved © Silpika Kalita
I got to tell you about this dig
It made me dance the jig
I did it by night
With no one in sight
Out of my nose it was bloody big
The scavenger dog
Moving along the dirty streets
With its standing ears down
Sored at both tip. No gametes
At sight sex unknown no proper noun
Running away from stones
Well targeted, thrown by the jocular juveniles
For showing interest in contested bones
They laugh unhappily as their best friend flies
Feasting on the black round faeces
Of well fed fat goats
Or a week old lorry ridden rats or rotten Pisces
Puddle. Lucky when it sees a bone that floats
Playing seriously with Latrine flies
Who always surround its nine vivid ribs
Sucking nectar where it wounds lies.
In its hair dead ticks build their cribs.
Lying comfortably on the puffy street sewage
Allowing the fighting mice to lull it to death
It was after a drink from the drainage
And barking on a scorpion which it later ate.
Shaking helplessly on the road
Till the lead trailer ran pass it.
It was buried by cars and buses full with load
The worms and flies could not just die with it
It was a pregnant dog.
Jilting muse with availing inspiration did wend
Barren reservoir doth futility portend
A bristling quill with no well to descend
No gratuitous frills on vapid contours suspend
Seeking with brokered shill to amend
Imploring vagabond seeking itinerant dividend
Wading through flooded channels, silty grains to append
From literary vault embezzled title apprehend
In voluminous discourse a simple aphorism distend
In ancient annals a trite fable from corroded parchments
rend
From Medieval chronicles a homily with which to contend
Out of Victorian poet's graded folio a euphemism vend
From contemporary laureates' silken threads, new yarn
spin
distend- to stretch out, to inflate
Scavenger crabs live under rocks
They live under seaweed, they live under docks
Scavenger crabs live under floats
They live under driftwood, they live under boats.
Scavenger crabs are bad because
They'll bite you with gigantic claws
They'll poke you, pinch you, stab and jab
If you go near a scavenger crab.
Scavenger crabs live by the shore
Hiding, waiting, crabs galore
Crabs are bad without a doubt
Chew you up and spit you out.
While wearing the garb
Of a twenty year old
On a 50 something body
Her eyes rove hungrily,
Spotting her quarry
She pounces upon
The daily newspapers
Left by a prior denizen
Of the local coffee bar
Every word on every page
Is ravenously devoured
The lives of others
Happy or horrid
Fills her empty hours
Pouring over her soul
Like so many lattes
Prepared by bored baristas
When she's had her fill
She stows the carcasses
Under her cushions
Guarding them
For later gnawing
And when our eyes meet
She knows I lie in wait
For her to vacate the seat
So I can pick the bones clean
Born with nothing in this place
Tattered clothes and dirty lace
Searching food to suffice my hunger
When can this life get so over?
Stomach crumbling and dying
Insufficiency keeps me on crying
Looking for a one big help!
This heart only knows how to yelp.
Sleeping in a coldest street,
Folded boxes terribly greet.
Storms are blowing in my life.
This is such a hell of life!
Craving for a one sweet home
How I wish I live in a biggest dome!
Guess my dreams are so unclear…
Everything is just a tear.
I'm a carnivore who craves the taste of meat
and yet, I can't kill anything. It just isn't within me.
Until now, all of my protein has been provided in great variety,
all pre slaughtered and butchered and preserved nicely,
at the supermarket in my neighborhood locally.
Modern technology has desensitized me.
As I now forage in the forest, I come upon the carcass of a doe's body
most likely taken down by a grizzly.
It's been days now since I've consumed any meat.
My hunger grows stronger. I'm getting dizzy and weak
but I must be careful. I must stay aware.
Close by may be a snoozing grizzly bear.
I scan my surroundings and all appears clear.
Quickly, I butcher off a shank of the now deceased deer
then run off into the forest and disappear.
I relish in what I've scavenged as I consume the venison.
Tomorrow I will venture out to scavenge again.
I only hope that I'm not the one who ends up being eaten.
"Want to be alive today while my future is uncertain
Scavenging is all my soul seaks"
it was my Instagram status
these words are meant to represent us
nothing in this entire world would defines me truly
because the vision , the question and the confusion I have cannot be expressed freely
I always wanted to be at peace and wanted time to heal me
but what if confusion ,uncertainty and stability is the real answer
you feel me?
why is the non existence of any Bond or attachment feels like home ,
it excites and thrills me
I haven't found any word that can define this state other than 'Scavenger'
it's like being a The Hulk 'a loner' but still sometimes ! an Avenger
you know what is the thing that makes me most scared ?
settlement, satisfaction, stability it is said !
everytime I look at a movie that ends with "happily lived Ever After !"
It gets to my nerve , for me that's boring end of chapter
such boring end is the last thing I want, I'll rather die after
or maybe the real question is about the meaning of life
when I think about it everything loses its importance like a blunt knife
but still there is no answer to this question
I tried to find it !! I am not lazy!!
but the question itself is unclear, that drives me crazy !!
how can you find the answer if you don't know what you are finding
how can you navigate if you don't know which vehicle you are riding
how can you be so sure that society is right, that nothing is in the hiding
how can I find out the real meaning of my existence because this thought is overwhelming and astounding
Yeah ! I can hear myself Ishwar....... crazy I am sounding
but let's find out what this life really mean
not by thinking about it but by seeing the unseen
let's be that wanderer , that Traveller, that dreamer
the person who wants to know the truth about being Alive
just a lonely SCAVENGER !
Their feathered shields
like steel, shimmer in sunlight.
Gobbling, wobbling on thorny feet
without flight;
foraging through leathered leaves
that autumn left behind,
acorns lay abundant,
for hungry turkey's to find.
battle between bucks
deadly duel-decided ~
scavengers spectate
(November Full Moon – Dakota and Lakota)
Feral.
He's a dirty little kid
small and wiry, hair
all matted and dull.
Covered in scabs,
no shoes on his feet.
Poor little chap.
Looks like he has just crawled from under a hedge.
Gone feral, that's what's happened to him.
Left to his own devices a scavenger he's become.
Feeding off other peoples rubbish.
His clothes are just rags, he needs a good bath,
and a hot meal.
He's a feral child, gone wild, untamed, no one to take care of him.
Antony Slausen.
07/08/2018.
I am a collector of natures splendors
Rocks, sand, plants and feathers,
Around the world they come together
All in one place for me to treasure.
scavenger hunt
sandy summer beach
welcomes a scavenger hunt ~
hot sand samba dance
lacy edged scallops
rippled shells like wind kissed surf ~
trim tidal ball gowns
fallen stars – starfish
through clear waters see the sky ~
starlets seeking fame
building spiral rooms
nautilus remodel grows ~
under construction
precious sand dollars
bear reminders of the cross ~
hidden doves seek sky
from many seashores
loves sandy, sheltered, beaches ~
cockle shells sea hearts
grazing the seabeds
cerith night hunter in swirls ~
aquarius shell
many alias
periwinkle and magpie ~
whelks create red dye
lazy summer days
tidal froth splashes through surf ~
shells decorate beach