poems
 
   
Mighty Tiger

Like a powerful mighty tiger
Thy hunger piercing through mine eyes
As I am planning my move
Feeling the heat on the the back of your neck
Thy Strength as The tiger grips your body
Giving in...He is devouring...Tasting
Your every last morsel
The desire increases with each taste of flesh...
Every dropp of sweat
The mighty tiger once he has tasted the meat
Tames Him
He will hunger for Her always
The Lioness will be part of him
Her taste forever in him
No other will satisfy
Wandering through Life
Craving...
For His One Love

---Peter LeBuhn
   ©2006 Peter LeBuhn

 

Tigers of the snow.

tigers of the snow.
one shot two down.
no more Truth
be told. NO MORE!
words be sold.

enslaved in a rapture of vocal oppression.
a rhapsody of shrapnel, dirt-kicked faces
on the ground. misery is the scar
of the dark sheep on a podium.

absolute power corrupts, absolutely.

far away from pleasant sounds
of a pianissimo melody, her eyes
cannot - can NOT - CAN NOT
convey
the captive
catastrophe
of a world in crisis.

imagine, the smoke
from Pashupatinath temple
rising from the barrel
of an AK47 rested
on the Royal Throne.

tigers of the snow.
one shot two down.
voices separated.
lives un-united.



-- Jeff Dhungana
   ©Jeff Dhungana 2006

 

 

 

Unlimited Power
 


Unlimited Power
The Tiger watches over us
Ultimate Protection and Care.
Evil not to enter
Not even to Dare.
The Mighty Tiger
Ever Watching
Ever Knowing
...Her Family
Keeping the dynasty intact
So Strong their possession attract.
Kingly...Queenly
With Sovereign Grace.
Over Their Place.
The Mighty Tiger
Invincible
The Mighty Tiger
Forever Shall Reign

---Peter LeBuhn
   ©2006 Peter LeBuhn

   
   

Dancing Panthers(A Love Story)

You come upon thee
Dancing slowly
Akin to the theater in the round
Your smile on passionate ground
Mischievous as a pirate to her prey.

Circling 'round each other
As Black Panthers
Atop A Hill Of Green
Hoping to unveil the things
Unseen.

The Sun Beats down
On Our bare backs
Your breasts...Inviting
This situation... exciting...delighting

The Heat Rises
In Store Many Surprises
Back on your rear feet are you
Pouncing on your lover...your prey
To your love I am bay

Your Samson Am I
My Deliaha Are You


---Peter LeBuhn
   ©2005 Peter LeBuhn

 
   

The Tiger and the Lamb

I saw a Tiger's golden flank,
I saw what food he ate,
By a desert spring he drank;
The Tiger's name was Hate.

Then I saw a placid Lamb
Lying fast asleep;
Like a river from its dam
Flashed the Tiger's leap.

I saw a lion tawny-red,
Terrible and brave;
The Tiger's leap overhead
Broke like a wave.

In sand below or sun above
He faded like a flame.
The Lamb said, "I am Love;
Lion, tell your name."

The Lion's voice thundering
Shook his vaulted breast,
"I am Love. By this spring,
Brother, let us rest."

---Elinor Morton Wylie

 

 

Twarted tiger.

Tiger hunting in dark of night,
Keenful eyes keeping it's prey in sight,
hidden in the long grass, crouching low,
waiting to deliver it's fatal blow.

Moon watches tiger with a glint in his eye,
illuminates crouched tiger to all prey nearby,
tiger growles at the moon as he shakes his furry head,
and on an empty stomach takes himself off to bed.

---Liz Munro

 

The Other Tiger

A tiger comes to mind. The twilight here
Exalts the vast and busy Library
And seems to set the bookshelves back in gloom;
Innocent, ruthless, bloodstained, sleek
It wanders through its forest and its day
Printing a track along the muddy banks
Of sluggish streams whose names it does not know
(In its world there are no names or past
Or time to come, only the vivid now)
And makes its way across wild distances
Sniffing the braided labyrinth of smells
And in the wind picking the smell of dawn
And tantalizing scent of grazing deer;
Among the bamboo's slanting stripes I glimpse
The tiger's stripes and sense the bony frame
Under the splendid, quivering cover of skin.
Curving oceans and the planet's wastes keep us
Apart in vain; from here in a house far off
In South America I dream of you,
Track you, O tiger of the Ganges' banks.

It strikes me now as evening fills my soul
That the tiger addressed in my poem
Is a shadowy beast, a tiger of symbols
And scraps picked up at random out of books,
A string of labored tropes that have no life,
And not the fated tiger, the deadly jewel
That under sun or stars or changing moon
Goes on in Bengal or Sumatra fulfilling
Its rounds of love and indolence and death.
To the tiger of symbols I hold opposed
The one that's real, the one whose blood runs hot
As it cuts down a herd of buffaloes,
And that today, this August third, nineteen
Fifty-nine, throws its shadow on the grass;
But by the act of giving it a name,
By trying to fix the limits of its world,
It becomes a fiction not a living beast,
Not a tiger out roaming the wilds of earth.

We'll hunt for a third tiger now, but like
The others this one too will be a form
Of what I dream, a structure of words, and not
The flesh and one tiger that beyond all myths
Paces the earth. I know these things quite well,
Yet nonetheless some force keeps driving me
In this vague, unreasonable, and ancient quest,
And I go on pursuing through the hours
Another tiger, the beast not found in verse.

---Jorge Luis Borges

 

Tale Of A Tiger

He stood beside the Tiber
Holding the tail of a Tiger
He tried to hold it fast
But it bit him on the Ass
Make Love not War

---allan james saywell

TIGER

I want to understand why those paws snatches life,
I want to read those fiery eyes,
And the pain that you have no friends,

Every one screams by your name,
That striped body makes all scream,
Tiger! Tiger! They say and run away.

I know you can feel others pain,
That's why you let go the wounded name,
You are the king so you do not kill the injured prey.

Has anyone thought about your importance in nature?
Do all know how much you have helped to balance the eco?
All only know to kill for your body saying they fear you.
But the fact remains that you are the priceless so killed,
You fear no one so all fear you,
That's why you are the king of jungle who has the quality to snatch life.

---Sambidhan Acharya


The Tiger

The tiger, on the other hand,
Is kittenish and mild,
And makes a pretty playfellow
For any little child.
And mothers of large families
(Who claim to common sense)
Will find a tiger well repays
The trouble and expense.

---Hilaire Belloc




DARK FORESTS

Dark forests...Northern...Sourthern Mountains,
Fierce tigers circle around the villages in broad daylight.
Protecting what is theirs
In the magic of the night
The tigers roam everywhere taking lives for food.
The Majesty of the tigers power,
The prey dare not make a sound.
The new kin tiger sprout every year
In the valleys low.
Male and female tigers come up and down the mountains in large groups.
There is a village near the tigers’ dens in the valley,
Where tigers often come and eat the villagers’ brown calves.
Rich young men dare not shoot the arrows at the tigers.
The Majesty of the Tiger lives forever
The Majesty of the Tiger
They only pretend to check for the tigers’ tracks in the forests.

---  Peter LeBuhn
     ©2006 Peter LeBuhn

   
 
   
THE TYGER

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare sieze the fire?


And what shoulder, & what art.
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?


What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?


When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?


Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

---1794 AD By William Blake

   
 

I would like to thank my friend Peter Lebuhn for writing poem for tiger.com.np .

 

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