Predation Poems - Poems about Predation

A mother to you, a son to me, sucking the life out of my bosom and weep in disgust when it's saggy. Men love a tempting hole to fit in, to dissolve seeds of bliss and then chymic wring it barren of faith. They carve open doors in me and call it a home. women love a alchemist man ,...

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Nature isn't Disney No wild animals die of old age They die of hunger, exposure, illness Parasitism, injury and predation The first five manners of death All lead to death by predation As the animal becomes too weak To defend itself Predation means They are torn asunder While conscious and aware Of what is happening. Compared to their fate The hunter's...

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Why does he provoke me to anger? He stalks among us - with his song - a wolf's grin His inimicality beckons like a hawk's talons, luring prey to certain death Yet he imparts wisdom to those who bleed Beware! his insights twist like a pit of pepper x vipers; devouring souls He spins tales of survival and primal instinct Beneath the façade lies decay concealing...

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Moderation in all metaphysical and physical declarations exerting autonomous preposterous implementations. ImModeration in self as also Other love. Moderation in all things, except continuously flowing integrity Reforming and propelling compassionate universal regard. Passionately love wisdom that diversely and re-contextually regards win/win positive co-arisings and win/lose negative correlations to bilaterally become felt knowing integral bicameral polycultural polypathic polyvagal polynomially pleasing praxis. Unconditionally practice ecological praxis Contextually and spatially temporally expanding consciousness into eco/theological contemplative enabling arts, spiritual nature-living indigenous nondualistic deductive/inductive exhaling/inhaling wisdom Peak sensory nonviolent performance of co-passionately experiential...

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It creeps over beer stained carpets. Last night I saw its hunchbacked shadow rooting in the fridge for spreading cheese. This morning it peers out of my front window, looking to see if anything has changed - nothing has. I know it will be up all night shaking an unlit Christmas tree, it will moan. It imagines rearranging my leftover life for another...

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If it is true that only one fundamental, all or nothing, choice in evolutionary life is offered-- To eat or become someone else's dinner Then, are you choosing to remain the Exclusive Eater, Selfish Harvester, or the Weakest Plant not yet sacrificially eaten? What if both could be true for you? Cooperatively planting what we will inevitably harvest together To gather only what we planted: One both/and still connected nutrition...

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For Trumpians our multiculturally celebrated Golden Rule applies first to Ego then to immediate white privileged family, then to wealthier gated community, then to a more rabblous Republican Party, then to USA nationalists European predative culture idolaters mistaking capital-inspired Manifest Destiny for sacred DNA theology, then to fallen Earth, if there is any gold left over after all that strained dispassion, divestment fatigue stretching out from entitled EgoCenters. For Green...

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Predation In Woeful Times By Roy Merritt Life is getting ghastly now For few it seems sublime Everyone engrossed with thoughts Of predation in woeful times In times like this trust for neighbors Is a luxury you can’t define You can’t depend on anybody With predation in woeful times Who knows if some day soon Some day just down the line We’re all at each others...

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There was no clear move. Flamethrowers were on the way- and I was looking, backward. A fragile truce with the clouds. They had abandoned- the sky and were wringing- the neck of mountains. Compromising with the painted lips of winter, my secret was out. I was shivering in the crowd of moon-gazers. Satish Verma...

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