Category Archives: photos of animals

In the Blood (Entertainment?)

In the Blood!!!

Don’t you just love football—the running and the tackling?
The sounds of hamstrings pulling and the crunch of femurs crackling?
We sit up in the bleachers eating hot dogs, drinking beer,
comfortably viewing blood sport—the kind we hold so dear.

Aren’t dogfights lovely–the growling and the whining?
Too bad they aren’t more elite, so we could watch while dining.
So amusing watching canines being dished their due.
Dying is so entertaining when it isn’t you!

Better still are bullfights, though they’re few and far between.
The bull so lithe and dangerous, the matador so lean.
The best part of the sport is that the dying is so slow.
I feel its thrill suffuse me from my head down to my toe.

We adore big game hunting in such exotic lands–
our chance to prove our manliness with our own two hands–
handing over money to those trackers in the know
who guarantee an easy kill with rifle or with bow.

Easy on the hunter, but not the animal,
for just because he’s hit the prey’s not guaranteed to fall.
We get more for our money if he’s hard to track,
and war games are more pleasant when one’s foe doesn’t shoot back!

All these minor titillations just a prelude to
the main event and the most major way of counting coup.
Once all the good old boys are finding life is just a bore,
they round up all the younger men and send them off to war.

See how the valiant struggle, see their stripes and purple hearts–
apt pay for missing arms and legs and other blown off parts.
Lucky to be home at last and lucky to be living–
the products of that blood sport that just somehow keeps on giving

Repost of a poem from 3 1/2  years ago.  Crocodile photo new!  More to follow. The prompt today is entertain.

Adventures with Animals in my Careless Youth

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“No, no, no,” I said, “I can’t”
ride upon that elephant.
The creature lowered to one knee,
leg bent to make a step for me,
and seconds later, I was in air.
Was it courage or a dare?

Each  leg gripped on a massive shoulder,
balanced on that giant boulder
of a back, somewhat nonplussed
as his handler swore and  cussed
to not take down that massive tree
so long as he was bearing me!

Whereupon, once told “You can’t,”
this timber-working elephant
turned to descend the river bank.
I gave the rope a mighty yank.
(That was all I had to hold
as this leviathan grew bold,

intent on giving me a bath.)
His trainer ran to bar his path
and none to soon, in my opinion,
relieved this mammoth of his minion.
Soon after we had said adieu,
I faced adventures that were new.

It’s hard to see what I had there
around my neck, beneath my hair.
That snake wrapped loosely around me
hung writhing down below my knee.
I blew the pungi, hoping harm
would be abated by its charm.

What possessed me, I don’t know,
to agree to this viper show.
I wasn’t squeezed, I wasn’t bitten.
The snake was docile as a kitten.
I was a foolish girl back then.
What wild adventures way back when.

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I’m pretty sure this is a python around my neck. I don’t think I would have been foolish enough to drape myself in a cobra, still, his owner had a pungi, which is what snake charmers use, usually to “charm” vipers or cobras. (Actually, it is the motion of the instrument, not its sound that weaves the spell.) I had on a top that was perfect camouflage  for the reptile. Both of these photos were taken in Sri Lanka in 1973.

Squirreled Away: Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge, the Letter Q

I’ve been saving these photos taken in Sheridan, Wyoming in October for the correct occasion.  Looks like this is it.  The challenge is photos of anything containing the letter “Q.”  Soooooo. (Click on first photo to enlarge all. If you are viewing on Facebook, click on URL first or you won’t see all the photos.)

 

 For Cee’s Fun Foto, Letter Q Challenge.

J’accuse

 

J’accuse

Those who meander the paths of zoos
gain exercise as they peruse
the animals by ones and twos.
Whatever pathways they may cruise
will lead them to new rendezvous:
otters as they blithely ooze
through water as if to amuse.
They watch the bowerbird as it woos
with intricate patterns it pursues,
the aardvarks, elephants and gnus.

Did Mother Nature simply choose

to create hippos and kangaroos
with the intention to bemuse
these interlopers in tennis shoes?
Does our curiosity excuse
and give us license to abuse
koala bears and caribous?

We see it nightly in the news—

the ways that all of us misuse
the wonders of nature. We refuse
to stem consumerism, excuse
pollution, fracking and more taboos.
Imprison animals in zoos,
then honor them with our reviews
of fascinated ahhhs and ooos.

The prompt word today was ooze.

Little Savages

Little Savages

Hungry little savages attack the bedroom rug,
assaulting the tassels as they sortie for a bug.
They pounce upon the jingling ball, climb the sliding screen,
finding potential nourishment in everything they’ve seen.
They fall upon the kitten food and empty out their dishes,
inspecting corners of their bowls–stray morsels now their wishes.
Tidily lick my fingers, tongues curling from their lips,
mining me for fish oil caught in whorls of fingertips.

They can find adventure in anything you’d name—
pursuing errant crickets is like stalking wild game.
Every moving thing around is something to be followed—
to be toyed with, then when humans enter, quickly swallowed.
Frisky little savages win every hunting game.
They pounce upon their victim—live or plastic is the same.
They stalk their largest quarry as though they have a map—
track it down and take a leap and curl up in my lap!

(Click on first photo to enlarge all.)

The prompt word today was savage.

Kitten Afternoon

 

Kitten Afternoon

They tumble off the bed and land on padded feet,
light as feathers blown by wind, their movements sure and fleet.


They leap upon the pillows, sliding down the back
of the leather sofa, this little feline pack.

Off on single sorties, still they must collect
together in a pile to communally reflect

on the adventures of the day: the palm fronds they’ve combatted
and all the tiny spaces they have covertly catted.

They bravely face the secrets under the guest room bed,
approaching cowering crickets with fascinated dread.


They eye the inert bed cat with a careful glance,
then settle down around her, mirroring her stance.

Tumblers and explorers, their days are wildly varied––
sculptures to be batted at, business to be buried.


Laps to be climbed up on, computers to be checked.
Feathers to be batted at. Bird nests to be wrecked.

With their indulgent human approving all of it,
that nests are being shredded matters not a whit.


These kittens are her little bits of kinetic art,
infusing her still house with a spontaneous heart.


Those who say that kittens are a bother and a mess

could not begin to fathom, to comprehend or guess


how those subtle sounds—each skittering and scratching
heard from the next room is another mystery hatching.

Each tiny paw that walks across her unsuspecting chest
as she lies in bed is a most welcome guest,


messing up the covers of her unruffled day
with an invitation to leave her work and play.