DEVON RAUB

POETRY PROJECT

HUNTING

Still Hunting Susanne Donoghue I love to lie on my backin the summer lakes,watching the skywith the water nearly up to my eyes,my ears hearing only drum of my heart,feet fluttering to keep me afloat.I can do this for hours. A variation--to take the rowboat outto the center of the lake, lie on my backand let it drift while I gaze upwardsas far as I can until I feel as ifI am falling into the sky.Once I lured a blue heronby my silence, though I did not know ituntil I sat up and he flapped heavily away. Another--to sit in my folding chairin the midst of the deep woodsand watch the light fall like gold dustthrough the trees onto the forest floor,the blackberries and the mushrooms.Just breathing and watching, I have luredmany deer within range of my mind's camera,their ears flicking, listening for the soundswhich I never make. In the dark heartof the still forest lies a mysterywhich may only be seenwith unblinking eyes andunmoving mouth. I hunger forthis mystery more than bread.

• This poem is about how the narrator loves to go out and be in the nature. This poem isn’t actually about a person hunting to kill, but bunting to find things. For example she walks through the woods and looks for things like mushrooms and deer. But as you can tell she doesn't’t kill the deer she captures it in her mind with her “ minds camera”.

Black and WhiteYou have invoked my rageI must deal with this soonI'll fetch my twelve gaugeThat plays the same ol' tune I know where you're hidingYou know you're not safeIn your weakness, I'm confidingUnderwear beginning to chafe Come out, come outWhere ever you areYou will die without a doubtFor you cannot be far I've ransacked your homeI must say it stunkI'm putting a slug in your domeYou stupid little skunk

Barrett Wiley

This poem is about a guy who is hunting a skunk. This guy is clearly having a rough time trying to kill this skunk. You can tell that he is mad because he says “you have invoked my rage, and I must deal with it soon”. So pretty much this poem I just talking about a guy who is hunting a skunk but cannot get the skunk.

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• Fall Hunt

• Pants wet to the knees,

• fresh fallen vibrant leaves.

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• Rubs scrapes,

• and contemplates.

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• Blaze orange in the tree

• Dogs flushing pheasant flee.

• Sunset God sent pleasant to see.

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• Be still, listen.

• Was that? But the wind.

• Snort, huff, and nosed again.

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Be still, listen.Coyote, fox?Snap brush white tines glisten. Be still listen. Thump, thump through your body,Trembling in your arms.Beating in your ears,count the barns or farms. Here he comes.Upright, strong, king of his domain.Hooting owl, screeching hawk.To hear a robins song in the rain. Be still, listen. The wind again. The flash of a white tailbounds along a vanishing trail.

Nate Howard

This is a very vivid poem about hunting in the fall. In this poem there is not one specific animal being hunted. This poem does rhyme. So overall this poem is just a very vivid hunting poem that explains everything that is seen and heard. For instance like the color of his clothes or how wet his pants are, or even hearing snorts or huffs.

The findYou can find me in the backwoods making my mendskicked back where the river bendsposted up high in a treecovered in came so they will never find memy predator instincts are raging withinunder my skin I'm playing to winthere's nothing better than hunting the great outdoorsso many things are roaming the shoresthe sound of the water peace of mindsomething both man and animal seek to findI could stay here all day trying my luckif I'm lucky I will kill a big buckon the prowl keeping the wind behindLooking for a monstrous deer and waiting on the findtime and time again like I'm stuck in rewindI go back to the river just to remind ROOSTARAY

This is a poem by Roostaray. This is a hunting poem. In this poem the animal being hunted is a deer. There is no animal killed in this poem. Its just talks about the efforts it takes to kill a animal. This poem does rhyme. The way this poem rhymes is every set of two lines rhyme.

• HUNTING

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• It seems like we thrive from the adrenaline flow

• While hunting the morning of the very first snow.

• For all the mornings that we practically froze

• When we can't feel our fingers, or the tips of our toes.

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• Yet, we still hunt day after day

• In anticipation of the moment we can finally say

• 'I GOT A DEER' with a cheerful shout.

• As we jump up and down and run all about.

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• We think it's skill, but it's mostly luck

• That feeling we get when we get our first buck.

• When we talk about the hunt, or the antler size

• No one knows the real truth, 'cause everyone lies.

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• It's remembering our first hunt, as a girl or a boy

• When we felt the excitement with a heart full of joy.

• It's the fun that we have with our family and friends.

• It's the sharing and experience that we hope never ends.

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• So, go deer hunting...just do it some day

• Then you might understand what I'm trying to say.

• Hunting deer is special to me

• So, try it sometime and you'll find out and see.•

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This poem is talking about hunting deer. It talks about the efforts it takes to kill deer. It talks about the happiness when a deer is killed and it talks about the frustration when one cannot be killed. This is a rhyming poem and every other set of two lines rhyme.

• Arrowhead Hunting

• BY A. E. STALLINGS

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• The land is full of what was lost. What's hidden

• Rises to the surface after rain

• In new-ploughed fields, and fields stubble again:

• The clay shards, foot and lip, that heaped the madden,

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• And here and there a blade or flakes of blade,

• A patient art, knapped from a core of flint,

• Most broken, few as coins new from the mint,

• Perfect, shot through time as through a glade.

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• You cannot help but think how they were lost:

• The quarry, fletched shaft in its flank, the blood

• Whose trail soon vanished in the antlered wood,

• Not just the meat, but what the weapon cost—

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• O hapless hunter, though your aim was true—

• The wounded hart, spooked, fleeting in its fear—

• And the sharpness honed with longing, year by year

• Buried deeper, found someday, but not by you.

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This poem is probably my favorite poem I have chosen for my poetry project. Believe it or not this poem isn’t exactly talking about hunting. This poem is talking about hunting arrowheads. It also talks about the Indian who had the arrowhead and how he/she used the arrowhead to hunt with.

• Deer Hunter

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• Getting up before dawn

• He puts his boots on

• Going about his precatory ritual

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• Camouflaged gear

• Assorted scents of deer

• Makes him nearly invisible

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• He climbs up his stand

• Hand over hand

• Perched in the perfect branch

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• Preparations were clear

• If he wants to get his deer

• This is where he'll get his chance

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• In the predawn light

• He beholds a grand sight

• A massive buck enters the clearing

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• The swift deadly arrow

• Cleaves through sinew and marrow

• He shall eat venison this evening

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• Fig Newton

This is a hunting poem about hunting deer. This poem talks about the clothes he wears when he hunts. It talks about the preperation before the hunt. This poem does rhyme, the rhyme scheme would be that the first and second lines rhyme and the last line of each stanza rhyme.

• Deer Hunting Time Is Here Again

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• Deer hunting time is here again

• And many hunters take to the woods

• After months of planning with family and friends

• They gather in common brotherhood

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• It's a freedom that fills the soul of a man

• With the peace of God's nature all around

• Lessons that have been taught since time began

• And lifelong memories and friendships are found

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• Hunting is taught by tradition still yet

• Knowledge passed on from man to man

• And you'll learn things that you'll never forget

• And respect nature more, our wildlife, and our land

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• So all you hunters enjoy this time

• May you be skilled and have lots of luck

• May God bless you as you hunt today

• And may you bag that ten point buck! !

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• Kathleen West

This is a hunting poem about hunting deer. This poem talks about hunting getting out in the woods, its talks about how hunting is passed on from tradition. And this poem does rhyme, the way this poem rhymes is the first line rhymes with the third rhyme and the second line rhymes with the fourth line.

• Hunting

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• Hunting season is coming up

• And deer is your main prey

• Wear bright colors, so you wont get stuck

• Taking your life away

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• When sitting in a tree stand

• Or walking along with others

• Make sure what you see is not a man

• Waiting for deer in a gutter

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• Safety is the most important thing

• When hunting with a bow or a gun

• A terrible tragedy they can bring

• When using them just for fun

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• So take my advise and play it safe

• Hunting is not a game

• Take your time, it's not a race

• The results will still be the same

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• Kevin Seales

This hunting poem isn’t specifically talking about any certain animal being hunted. I think this is more of like a hunter safety poem. I think this because it talks about using guns in a safe way. And it talks about what terrible tragedies can happen if you use a gun in a wrong way.

• 'Hunting Season Is Open'

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Gun hunting season opens tomorrow morning

• my husband is gathering his hunting gear around.

• He'll be getting up really early in the morning

• way before the break of dawn.

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• He's trying his special orange hunting cap on

• so that he's not mistaken for a deer.

• Us wives always worry about that you know

• it is one of a hunter's wifes greatest fears.

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• The weather is suppose to be very cold and rainy

• my husband says that is the best weather for hunting in.

• Because the deer are on the move much more

• then when it's warmer like some recent days have been.

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• I will say a prayer to our Lord above

• asking that He protect all hunters, on this opening day.

• And that they all come back with that Buck or Doe their after

• and no bullets from their guns shot go astray.

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• Linda winchell•

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• Linda Winchell

This hunting poem is about hunting deer. The writer of this poem is a women. She talks about one of her greatest fears, having her husband mistaken for a deer. In this poem they plan to go hunting the next day which is opening day of deer hunting season. The day is supposed to be cold and rainy.

MY POEMS

I AM POEM

• I am

• Motorcycles, guns, cars.

• I like hunting and baseball.

• Humor is important to me, trustworthiness is important to me, being fun is important to me.

• I will be succesful.

• Being doubtful is bad, but can be good if you doubt something bad.

• I like to play baseball.

• I don’t like tomatoes.

• I am.

CINQUAIN

Dog

Fat, hairy

Wagging, breathing, running

A pain to clean up after

Bestfriend

DIAMONTE

• Car

• Fast, loud

• Racing, revving, drifting

• Road, track, sky, clouds

• Flying, transporting, crashing

• Big, scary

• Plane

SENSES POEM

• Happiness is a rainbow

• It tastes like lolipops and gumdrops

• It sounds like Pharrell Williams

• And smells like fresh cut grass

• It looks like a room without a roof

• And makes you feel like clapping.

HAIKU

A long days work

Muscles ache, back hurts

I finally get to rest