Elusive Poacher
He drank a glassful brandy,
All over again randy,
Then tried a little Quanta
And soon began to banter
"I'm a Poaching Trespasser,
In a Property, Racer,
Moving at a clean canter,
No halting by your Mantra...
Often watching Lawful Pace,
A keen eye on Owner's Face
To hellfire not let loose,
Owner to reject a truce,
My poaching finger first list
For those
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Categories:
poacher, change, corruption, evil, money,
Form: Rhyme
Eager To See a Poacher
When I started guarding Najin and Fatu I was twenty-two years young.
I am now sixty-two, and I am worried about my reflexes.
Poachers have never stopped coming.
They are the only predators of the white rhino.
How much longer can they live? My partner Abdul asks me.
Some white rhinos live to be fifty years old, I tell him.
Will
...
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Categories:
poacher, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Prose Poetry
A Man of Many Parts
He is a man of many parts;
Not once not twice topping The Charts,
Even at throws of A Drunk’s Darts
And easy picking of noiseless farts …
In their party, a top notcher,
On campus, discussed lecturer,
In some property, a poacher,
In some clinic, Satan’s butcher,
Amidst women, Adventurer …
Indeed, A Man of many parts,
Who might soon dare horse-driven
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Categories:
poacher, character, conflict, confusion, corruption,
Form: Rhyme
Words To a Poacher
This once majestic creature - its form
now a dried hide stretched over mutilated bones.
As defenseless in death, as it was in life,
its tusks hacked from its noble skull.
Its ear rests serenely on its shoulder
among dead sticks the carcass testifies
to the barbarity of evil men
front legs folded back where it heaved in agony-
gave its last breath
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Categories:
poacher, africa, corruption, death, earth,
Form: Free verse
Poacher
The mother carries about her jutting womb,
pains, torments, fatigue… her daily companions.
For nine months or thereabout no one relieves her
of the bulk, and the toil attached to it.
At labour she is—oh! It’s unbearable!
If a baby girl she gives breath to,
She raises and nurtures her to her prime.
Growing and developing all her puberty signs,
she swing-walks
...
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Categories:
poacher, marriage, metaphor,
Form: I do not know?
Poacher
The mother carries about her jutting womb,
pains, torments, fatigue… her daily companions.
For nine months or thereabout no one relieves her
of the bulk, and the toil attached to it.
At labour she is—oh! It’s unbearable!
If a baby girl she gives breath to,
She raises and nurtures her to her prime.
Growing and developing all her puberty signs,
she swing-walks
...
Continue reading...
Categories:
poacher, marriage, metaphor,
Form: I do not know?