Hunting the Wild Goose

Remember,

the road to hell is paved with poems,

First, catch your poem,

entice it with sweetmeats and chicken,

watch carefully,

a feral poem may turn on you at any instant,

metaphors - extended

personification about to bite

A kittenish sense of humour

will tickle you into a fisherman's arms

or tear you to shreds with good intentions,

so it's best to use armour piercing bullets

to ensure you are the hunter and not the hunted.

Caged, a wild poem is practically worthless,

so why should our intrepid poet

sludging through mud and malaria

to bring back only death and decay.

Truth is, it's hard to say,

maybe it’s the beat of the jungle

the breathy wild entrancing lies

Maybe it's the thrill of the chase

or the trophy hung upon the wall

Or maybe

just maybe,

its none of these things at all.

A.J. Ponder 

Trawling through lots of old poems - and thought this feels like a beginning of the year poem - so it's quite appropriate to post it on the official beginning of my Tuesday Poem Blog for 2012.  

Now of course there are plenty of other lovely poets and poems up on the Tuesday Poem blog, and it's so exciting for everybody to be up and running again I know I'll be dropping in to see what's happening.  But only very quickly because with all the story organising and house painting, tree felling...  I'm kind of exhausted.  :)  Have a great week everybody.  

A.J. Ponder 

 A.J. Ponder's work is available through Rona Gallery, Amazon, and good Wellington bookstores