Tag Archives: Big Game Hunting

The Wild Life

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The Wild Life

If you’re yearning for the wild life but haven’t a clue
about how to go about it, here’s a hint for you.
Gratify your need by visiting the zoo
to ogle hippopotami and maybe get a view
of zebra or a lion or a cheetah or a gnu.
Snap photos of a reindeer or a caribou.

See monkeys in their cages or an eagle in its aerie.
Hang out at the petting zoo if eagles are too scary.
Give the lambs sweet clover and all the ponies oats.
Pat their little heads and stroke their hairy coats.
Stop by aerated pools to touch a koi’s smooth scales,
keeping a proper distance from the killer whales.

In this modern world where violence is rife,
one need not act out to enjoy the wild life.
So put away your crossbow, your rifle or your knife
and head out to the game park with your kids and wife.
You need not stalk your game through the forest or the fens.
Better to hunt your wildlife through a camera  lens.

Prompt words today are aerate, scary, zoo, gratify and give.

For dVerse Poets Quadrille: Extinction

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jdb photo

Today I read a story about a man who led big game hunting expeditions whose claim was that he could guarantee a kill with one hundred percent surety.  Ironically enough, after shooting a water buffalo and posing with his kill, he was fatally gored by another water buffalo. This was perhaps on my mind as I wrote this poem on the subject of extinction for the quadrille challenge. Please note that I am not in favor of big game hunting. In the last lines, I’m talking about luck in a general sense, not in terms of big game hunting. I took this photo in Kenya in 1967.

 

Extinction

If we all were always winners, winning would lose distinction.
Every hunter bagging game would lead to their extinction.
So to qualify my wishes, I guess that I’ll just say
I hope when it’s your turn for luck, that it will come your way!

for dVerse Poets

Sssshhhhh, Don’t Tell! Flower of the Day, Nov 21, 2017

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See Cee’s gorgeous poppies HERE.

In the Blood!!!
(Dedicated to Walter Palmer)

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.


R.I.P. Cecil and the numerous humans who have shed blood in unnecessary wars.
This post is in response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Game of Groans.” Think about an object, an activity, or a cultural phenomenon you really don’t like. Now write a post (tongue in cheek or not — your call!) about why it’s the best thing ever.