Long Hunting Poems
Long Hunting Poems. Below are the most popular long Hunting by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hunting poems by poem length and keyword.
Some people like to live on the edge or hang on a ledge. Not me.
I'm just Daniel, a trailblazer forging ahead, making a pathway for others.
In the process, I have no shortest of respect for God's great creation.
I set foot on a wilderness from the warm Atlantic to the cold Pacific,
and spent a lifetime trapping, fishing, hunting, and heading wagon trains.
Earthquake Susan's quiet and sleepy today, not likely to quake, shake, or tremor. Volcano Sam has started emitting smoke, but maybe he won't blow his top today. Unlike a Hurricane Helen roaring across the Caribean on a course with measurable data, Sam's under a lot of pressure and he's always filled with suspense and unpredictabilities.
In mid-winter when it's quiet with lots of snow, I can hear Sam's pleads as he hopes people will pay more attention and not take him for granted. Like a youngster filled with rebellion and rage because of 'he knows not what', that volcano just ahead named Sam cannot control the massive 'buildup of fire' going on inside of him.
But I have been listening, watching, and studying his history for years, and if I have learned anything about my proper relationship with Sam, it's that I keep my distance and pay attention, being ready at all times to flee this entire mountain area.
12262018PoSoupContest, Sleeping Volcano, Eve Roper; 2P
Evening cicadas
Cacophony climax;
Night time music
~~~~~~~~~
By this playground
Noisy frolic parades;
Little feet gather
~~~~~~~~~
Haiku moment:
Brief promontory,
Dragonfly buzz
~~~~~~~~~
Raining non-stop
Wet moments splash;
Umbrella parade
~~~~~~~~~
Aqueous verses
Heavy pieces drowning;
Pouring rain recites
~~~~~~~~~
Walkway cobblestones
Busy footfalls conspire;
Old man ponders
~~~~~~~~~
Odd faces
Cellphone conversations;
Bus-stop queue
~~~~~~~~~
Gone away
Cannes vacation;
Stopover at Nice
~~~~~~~~~
Fruit serenade
Plate ready-to-eat;
Delicious desserts
~~~~~~~~~
Dazzling confections
Sensuous delights;
Ice cream scoops
~~~~~~~~~
Dangerous curves
Sculptures of art;
Calligraphy unfurls
~~~~~~~~~
Beauty walks by
Curious eyes watch;
Attraction sizzles
~~~~~~~~~
Midnight buzz
Moon hiatus;
Darkness greets raindrops
~~~~~~~~~
House hunting
Viewing prospects;
Curious query judges
~~~~~~~~~
Glimpses here
In a new light;
Dawn brings gifts
~~~~~~~~~
By my bay window
A grand view;
City lights tell
~~~~~~~~~
Cheer cascades
House warming party;
Hope wears well
~~~~~~~~~
Poignant posture
Mindful moments move;
Stretching sway slants
~~~~~~~~~
Yoga trance
Body dance rituals;
Graceful ecstasy
~~~~~~~~~
If you must ask
The master said;
You do not know
~~~~~~~~~
Plain words tell
Potent fragments;
Haiku presence
~~~~~~~~~
Dynamic
Plain telling sculpts;
Balance firms form
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
21 September 2017
Singapore
Human hands and hawks have worked well together
Five thousand year record for falconry
An eternal bond of flesh and feather
Shows us how epic hawk hunting can be
As raptors light upon a gloved fist
Freed from handler's hoods hawks wing on high
See this dim lit tale through thicket and mist
Think how hawks think in the chase as they fly
These predators soar into human hearts
Seek nature's balance between bird and prey
Fiercely their talons grasp the killing arts
Pouncing and crushing victims every way
Returns to the glove are acts to behold
By the hands of man see nature unfold
105 words Sonnet 14 lines
Colored Pencil illustration by G. Gaul
I’m visiting the Manor with the paranormal society
It’s said to be haunted; I’m filled with some anxiety
The Duke was murdered, bringing his lover notoriety
With bloodied hands she’s found guilty of impropriety
The Manor is so spooky, at one time it looked so grand
I startle as the door slams, my boyfriend holds my hand
I shiver when the key turns, there’s something underhand
Being locked in the old Manor wasn’t something I’d planned!
The windows are all boarded up, I’m feeling quite unsure
He tells me not to worry; we can exit from the back door
Cobwebs hang from the ceiling, they’re something I abhor
I wish I’d never agreed to go on this ghost hunting tour
Members wander off in pairs to the renowned haunted zones
Detection equipment is set up; to pick up creaks and groans
We know we must be quiet and talk in such hushed tones
Suddenly our hand held scanners pick up wails and moans
The floorboards begin to creak; we hear footsteps in the hall
A dust covered portrait of the Duke suddenly falls off the wall
Hairs stand on the back of my neck and my skin starts to crawl
I’ve come to the conclusion I don’t like ghost hunting after all!
Tonight’s paranormal activity has given me such a dreadful fright
We hurry down the staircase; my face has turned a ghastly white
Our torches light up the entrance hall and to our great delight
The huge wooden door swings open and we escape into the night!
Sponsor Dear Heart
Contest The Haunted House
8/23/18
Halloween Harvester Of Souls
It was October. The time was right, or was it now, or later
It’s all the same to me, stuck here in isolation
Ripe for exploitation
The parents took off to Europe for a spell
My medication makes me swoon
The moon sliced its way into my room and made a pattern.
It appeared to be quite green, a specter thing, an apparition
Several days before Halloween, furniture levitated
A wicked storm came up from hell with demons on the spot
Took out the moon and electric with clouds and lightning strikes
Trapped in my bed with flu, I could not leave
Chairs disappeared at first and then the rugs and mirrors
Pictures on the bureau, paintings on the wall; vanished one and all
I dared not sleep as green creates oozed from cracks
Down the hall and under doors they crept with howling sounds
I slipped into a sleep for just a second
Then my bed became a ghost
Only peeling paint remained on walls and ceiling
Everything I ever owned or knew was gone
It was the evil harvester at work, hunting Halloween souls
I was all alone, with nothing left but me, exposed to evil
And of course my soul for company
In a dark dark room
There was nothing to hold on to but four walls and screams
Created on 9/08 14 for - In A Dark Dark Room...Halloween – Poetry Contest
(A flash fiction piece)
Breathless summer heat retreats with the sun. People come out after dusk - like nocturnal animals. We’re hunting ice-cream, at a carnival-painted shop.
There are four serving windows, hundreds of flavors and crickets serenading from the dark.
My BFF Kim and I are with my older brother - we run to the line and he follows. We’re waiting in line when the noisy muscle car roars up. The driver is Kim’s ex-boyfriend - Rob. Dumped but still, somehow, on the planet.
We fear the contamination of simple ice-cream pleasures with sour drama.
We turn our backs as they park and they join a nearby line. I feel Rob watching us, we’re tense, like maybe there’s a spider nearby.
Rob comes over - he wants something from her - she’s bored with understanding. He stands close - private-space-invader close - he’s high-school-junior smooth. His assertions have no creativity - just history repeating itself - the talk is brief.
After a minute, he storms off - his friends are disappointed - I think they wanted ice-cream. Tire squealing and motor roaring announce his departure - his reputation is upheld.
I got two gigantic scoops- one Banana Peanut Butter Ripple the other Key Lime pie. YUM
BE AWARE MANDINGO MAN…
Be aware Mandingo man---
Its open season---
The pack-hunting hyena like
Human predators are roaming
As if on an urban savannah safari;
Be aware Mandingo man---
Its hunting season---
Ebony hued panther sheen males---
The game of prey to be picked off
Like coconuts from mothering trees;
Be aware Mandingo man---
It’s shooting season---
The hunters have set their sites
On sable skin male dears
Who must trod urban trail ways
As if cotton balls bouncing on thin ice;
Be aware Mandingo man---
It’s still
Strange fruit
Season---
Today, there’re no sheets to warn you;
Be aware Mandingo man
It’s you know what
Season---
The streets are the new killing fields.
Be aware Mandingo man---
Be aware:
Pow!
The majestic eagle preens itself as a brilliant new day is born,
Flexing its lithesome wings to prepare for its daily bourne.
The rising sun enhances it exquisite gilded plumage.
Gentle zephyrs will uphold its wings, its flight to assuage.
From atop a craggy tor where nestles its rustic aerie,
It surveys its domain, rugged mountain and rolling prairie.
From its lofty perch, it spots vistas mere man will never see,
Anon to ride the surging winds, its earthly bonds to flee!
Stretching its powerful wings ready to begin the day,
It sets about that eternal quest to seek its daily prey.
Aerobatic savvy it will use and hunting skills it will test,
To fill is needs and the gaping maws of eaglets in the nest!
Other winged creatures flee when its clarion scream is heard.
'Tis perilous to invade the territory of this raptorial bird.
The august eagle displays a most imposing aerial ballet,
As it swiftly and silently descends upon its hapless prey!
It is apt that the eagle is the symbol of these United States.
There are so many venerable traits that in each equates.
Cleared-eyed vision, firm resolve and imposing nobility,
Meeting all challenges and dangers with stalwart versatility!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
On the wind's current,
face-swept and braving fret;
I push forward...facing a tough day,
never fainthearted: merrily drifting away!
I challenge my strength,
to fuse more enthusiasm;
to beat the puzzled clouds with ingenuity,
and they, frustrated, initiate a plot against me!
I laugh, making them infuriated,
and they respond with stronger blows;
thinking they can't be imitated!
Don't they know that I watch all their moves?
Call me a marine or a sky-diver,
I may not look too convincing for a liar;
the open sky lets me on the wind's current,
lifting me off the earth to deliver my stunt!
Where are my rivals? Are they hiding or
planning my imminent defeat?
I may be too naive to cheat,
but I am as swift as a hunting panther!
On the wind's current so rough,
aware and attentive, I make my living;
chasing the fearless eagles with a bluff,
vulnerable...yes, but unafraid and willing!
Copyright by Andrew Crisci
Oh what a thrill
sliding downhill
an icy peak
then go back up
for a repeat
just for the fun
of it!
Beat my brother
at a wrestling match
then cuddle up
for mother’s milk
buttery fat
sweet.
It’s spring!
Mom is hunting
seals for meals
patiently waiting
by the hole
ring
till a head pops up
to breathe
then down goes mom
with lightning speed
to snatch it up
for a banquet meal.
Summer is hot
under Hudson Bay
sky
ice like a baby
cries!
Then starts
our long
miles long hike
leaving beyond
what was ice
now a liquid sky
of sparkling stars.
Food will be scarce inland
and scarcer yet
with summers getting longer
and ice seasons shorter.
I learned mom’s lessons well
to approach the prey
downwind undetected
but it's sad
there won’t be enough
for us bears to share
and some will be left
inland
among the dead.
Think of our habitat
when a stuffed bear
you hug to your heart
because that’s all
you may have left
if for nature
you have no respect.