A yank has killed a baby
A monkey who did no wrong
He was playing where he was living
Where he did belong
But camouflage jack was waiting
An arrogant ignorant lout
Photographed holding the spoils of war
Exactly what he’s about.
murdered in cold blood in South Africa
Free range pigs imagine that
rooting on the ground
metal bins positioned
where the dead are found
Piled high the blue bottles
in heaven so to say
some babies shot in the head
for being sick they pay
watch out it’s red tractor
and RSPCA
inspector’s coming surely
some look the other way
these poor pigs take a beating
suffering their lot
ruptures worst some burst
and, some shot on the spot
free range pigs sounds brilliant
it ought to be, but they
really all are suffering
all pigs have to pay
The supermarkets raise their price
and meat eaters some will
pay more for their wonderful life
Cows I see them in the dairy
Filthy dirty floors all wet
Excrement it rots their hooves
Really we are in their debt
How they suffer milked like crazy
Udders almost on the floor
Beaten if they do not move
Fast enough
Of that I am sure
An a4 sheet of paper
Thats its entire place
Hardly cannot turn around
Really a disgrace
Cramped a tiny prison cell
Where it eats and shits
No wonder it looks awfully sad
And frightened to bits.
An open mouth
A hunter
Carrying a head to where
He thinks he is going to add to his trophies
Totally unaware
His karmic debt is deeper
More profound than he
A scum bag plain and simple
If those of you
Who love to eat
The honest dead
Which you call meat
Frightened souls
Born to be
Alive and well
As a constancy
But most slaughtered before their time
Was up
Sadly
And so a rhyme
Penned today
Explicitly serenity
a true home of Rest
A real abundance of good hearts
Exemplifying zest
A peaceful purposeful haven
A genuine place to be
Our Donkeys and ponies
Love it here
In their equine family
Sir Galahad just look at him
As handsome as can be
A soft heart in his home of Rest
Where he really loves to be
A knight who lives with glory
Historically acclaimed
He really is a darling boy
So appropriately named
Loaded just like cargo
many of us we
All have hearts and souls and thoughts
as where we need to be
manhandled into trailers
The stench of death us near
start the engines
we fall about
we all know that the fear
is rampant in our being
tossed from side to side
travelling to the slaughterhouse
no it’s not denied
the stench of death
is prevalent
the sky above was blue
soon the gates will open
and the machinery will ensue
noises blood and the death cries
of others in front they be
victims of the meat trade
that inhumanity
Male chicks little babies
with feathers hearts and souls
born inside egg factories
about to begin their roles
of life of love of caring
in factories where they
are conveyed to macerators
and made into soup
a whey
of skin and bone
and agony
imagine that will you
eating eggs is paying for
the deaths yes alas it’s true
Every animal born has family
each knows love and care
mothers vixens love their babiesFathers are aware
Cubs are little children
being taught to be
caring of each other
it is a travesty
what hunters now are doing
teaching hounds to chase
and break into the foxes dens
yes its a disgrace
Supermarket dead flesh
cruelty and pain
shoulders legs
and breasts and thighs
listen as each animal dies
meat, they call it
life was once
a living being
How sad you are that you don’t know
How marvellous live pigs be
Mothers with their offspring
A wealth of industry
Passionate and intelligent
Beautiful they be
Entirely very affable
I really know you see
I have saved several females
From dying in the flame
And coming to know their spirit
The cowards the absolute scumbags
Hunting cubs so they
Train their hounds it’s incumbent
It must never be the way
Wild brethren suffer familial loss
These hunters ought to see
Foxes wild as the Wintery winds
Are one great family
On us all to show the way
He lives on ants
A pangolin
His scales apparently
Of keratin the Chinese sin
A curative he be
Thousands of them murdered
For the same stuff as our hair
Pangolins and Rhinocerus
Being murdered everywhere
Mason I can feel the angst
The worry and the pain
I live in the North up in the mountains
Where I gain
Vast amounts of sky and forest
Places where I write
Poetry by sparkling streams
And sometimes late at night
With the owls I share a hoot
Wondering where those barbecues
Will be set to offer sparks
And collectively tragic news🦉
A soft bed in heaven
Of damask and lace
a beautiful genre
a voice of pure grace
we hear she has left us
her country highway
was beautifully crafted
and many will say
a generous spirit
and angelic tone
Dolly was special
of the many we’ve known
tonight I am sad
she has passed
but feel sure
she will be remembered
For evermore
Wildness runs rampant in my alpine gardens
Butterflies and birds visit regularly
The odd fox, the squirrel and the ancient Guinea pig
Laps the water purposefully
Marigolds toadflax and plantains
Distinguish themselves broad leaf and narrow
Staring backwards at an ancient wood
With no public footpath
Oak Holly Beech and Hazel
Apple Masses of Blackberries
and Ivy
British free range
Yes by name
The poor chickens
All the same
Just as cruel
No mater what
Making money
Fills the pot
With fibs and upset
Our feathered friends
We know where the joyfulness ends
Arses keep tapping driving us bonkers
We’ve been here years
And Nobody cares
It’s been unreasonable
Frighteningly obvious
Just so much torture
Nothing compares
To the wild and to memories
To be born an animal
Any animal
Guarantees you will
Be tortured murdered beaten starved
Every reason to kill
Strip you of your leather
Your horn your blood your heart
From tiny through to massive
Humanity will impart
Every fearsome agony
Upon you night and day
Imprison you in some dark zoo
And butcher you
An elephant full grown
A mamba has bitten through
The toxicity of its poison
And what it’s seen to do
Way lay this huge animal
Send it on its way
And man can save with medicine
Or anyway delay
The inevitable
M The want of her waste
Deposited she
Sits on the beach
Shatting she be
A stench of a wench
A vile travesty
For children to walk on
How can this be
Allowed to be happening
s migrant who be
closest me thinks
To the beautiful sea.
Oh yes that they do
In a forest glade
Clean living creatures
On them is laid
Words like dirty
When they are clean
They eat at their table
They view as
Obscene
to eat where they dump
Like some humans do
Pigs are resplendent
In glory, anew
🐖🐖
Imagine the agony choking on sweat
A bone in her jaw
A karmic debt
From a murdered deer
A bone good and stuck
The carnivore dying
She’d run out of luck
A vet in the vicinity
Took it upon
Herself to remove it
The bone was soon gone
And breathing was once again
It’s reward
It’s all about freshness
A living being
A heart that is beating
Eyes that are seeing
Humanities evil
Violence and pain
Vastly destructive
Again and again
Imagine the frustration
Sharing what air
Is locked in a coffin
Of total despair
Absolutely
Words of blood
Innocence
The new age flood
Of angelic proportions
Everywhere
Streets of evil
And darkened despair
Iniquity the flood gates
We
Can smell the blood
And the infamy
Cheaper and cheaper
A toxic stew
Thrown into cesspools
They are feeding you
The vampire fishes
Evil beyond
Anything human
An iniquitous pond
Of chemical powders
Genetically cut
With all sorts of rubbish
Vast toxic death cults
Spread across miles
Of awful dead soup masses
Many denials
Cannibal aquatics
Dying a death
Sold off to the ignorant
Fighting for breath
Rex Tyler is a Poet, Campaigner, former owner of an organic shop of 30 years, and Public Speaker living in Berkhamsted, UK.
