I am a hunter
A hunter who hunts a hunter
But this hunt haunt hunters
As fiery hunters hunt their game
II
I met a fisherman in hunt
He made a bait
And an imaginary water
And placed me center stage
Loving my swim as fishes swim in nets
When caught with no escape
II
I met a real hunter in hunt
Whereas I held a heart
He held a gun
Coupled with an arrow
And an annoying catapult
Making me the trapped
In his little trap
Playing with my toil
Loving my blood in soil dripping
III
I met a dog in hunt
It worked as a stooge part time
But all it did was bark
Scaring off the cowardly and self respecting
Calling the engaged
Waking the asleep
To see to its wolf crying where chickens played
As I watched helplessly
IV
I met a chameleon in a glassland
As I got closer it pretended to be me
At any change of clothe
It copied to the tee
I never knew its colour
Copying was its hallmark
Wearing shoes of all in pretence was its dutiful duty
Until it saw another with an interesting colour
And followed like a slave
V
I met a lion in hunt
Its roars sent all enemies falling
And friends flying south
In my loneliness
It roared till shivers pierced holes of fright
In my flying kite
Bringing me down from my loving sky
Until legs found the strength to flee
VI
I met a hunting lizard
Who was a nodding king
All it did was nod at every resting step
Always saying nil
Branding me queer
And crawling on grounds marked for stonning
Until its dodging skills failed
As it was consumed by the forest
At the hands of an unknown
VII
I still hunt the hunting
Fearing all the ranting
Walking and running in panting
As my rhythms do the chanting
What kind of hunter hunt to be hunted
And risks being haunted
In a thick jungle so daunting?
Did I hear a bird chirp in calling?
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) September 28, 2016
2 replies on “THIS WEIRD HUNT”
Wonderful poem, Cecilia, so really deeply felt 🙂
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Thank you Irene. 🙂
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