Grey dogs panting
straps restraining
freed from their slips.
Brown hair trembling
wild heart racing
a scream on her lips.
Brown hair running
lungs bursting
stretching her length.
Grey dogs coursing
muscles revealing
their power and strength.
Black night enfolding
grey dogs creeping
hunter retreating
blood on his hands.
AH! Now I get it, Perhaps your "Senior figure" and my well-bred 'lady' are close acquaintances.
Wed 15th Jan 2025 12:02
Flyntland, your description of “a well-bred 'lady' rider” says it all: arrogance and entitlement hiding behind a façade of respectability: round our way, anyone else indulging in such behaviour would earn their correct titles: “low-life thugs”.
My previous comment referred to a senior figure, recently accused of bias in favour of hunting, who himself commissioned, a so-called “Review”, which surprise, surprise, found that there was 'no evidence' of collusion with hunt groups….well, there wouldn’t be, would there!
RBK - Holden - Auracle Thankyou for reading, I am very grateful for my flowers.
Thank you Rolph for your detailed comment,
You use the word "Primal" which sums up what I 'saw' when I was writing the poem but I would also like to add 'sinister'.
In my minds eye the hunt ended with the hunter slipping away into the night,
However, again, in my mind's eye, the victim need not be an animal; it could just as easily be a nameless haunting fear. " Primal" and "sinister" suit both versions.
This poem is one that arrived unbidden and was put down on paper with little effort.
Thank you for your encouragement I appreciate it.
Marla Thank you so much for your comment - feedback is so important.
Uilleam Thank you for your like and comment.
I follow the Hunt Sabs on Facebook, so I can tell you that the tide is beginning to turn. The Sabs are now equipped with vehicles, video cameras and drones with cameras. The evidence that they can gather is now indisputable and is handed over to the police who have been very helpful but do not have time themselves to follow the hunt for hours.
One video was particularly offensive when a well-bred 'lady' rider was heard shouting for the Huntsman to "use your whip - these people are so ignorant" I think that says it all.
you say so much with powerfully condensed words.
Tue 14th Jan 2025 19:21
Flyntland,
Your poem is intense and evocative, drawing the reader into a raw and primal scene. The pacing of the lines, from the "grey dogs panting" to the final "blood on his hands," builds a sense of relentless pursuit and tension. The imagery is vivid, particularly the description of the dogs’ strength and power, which contrasts sharply with the “hunter retreating” and the final dark moment.
What I appreciate most is how you capture the physicality of the chase—the "wild heart racing" and "lungs bursting" create an urgency that feels almost tangible. The rhythm and repetition in the poem also enhance this sense of movement and tension, pulling the reader along as the scene unfolds.
That said, the abrupt ending, with "blood on his hands," leaves a strong, haunting impact. While it works to underline the violence and finality of the hunt, I can't help but wonder about the deeper implications. Is it a comment on the cost of such pursuits, or perhaps on the consequences of violence, whether in nature or society?
The poem is powerful in its imagery and rhythm, and I’d love to see more exploration of the aftermath of the hunt. But overall, it’s a compelling and thought-provoking piece. Well done!
Tue 14th Jan 2025 15:02
Thanks Flyntland.
He has blood on his hands....but it's OK, the cops have been err..."instructed" to look the other way. In some parts of the UK they really have!
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Flyntland
Thu 16th Jan 2025 13:38
Thank you so much to Auacle - Holden and Yanma your likes are very encouraging and i am grateful for them.