Running the Bulls

Anger and wrathfulness
Dressed up as joy
As festival tourism
So to employ
The innocent nature
Of Bulls of the field
Vindictive malevolence
It tends to build
Up in the animals
Tortured this way
A growling impatience
Is on display
A lack of respect
Indignation and rage
Annoyed and angered
Right off the page

Men of bravado
Its painted that way
But in my heart of hearts
Its really a display
That irritates ungulates
Ferments their soul
Angers their spirits
Its taunting control
Wheres the benevolence
Where is the care
The fraternal feelings
Of being aware

Its the evil intent
The acerbity
Its flint hearted rancour
Its vulgarity
Cursing the Bulls
No humanity
Its more making mischief
Its sinners I see

The Bulls run in fright
There is no pity there
Running on cobbles
You feel their despair
Callous intent
Driven with heat
The cries of the crowds
All lining the street

Its discrimination
Unfitting and wrong
These Bulls will be fighting
They do not belong
To this evil intention
For me, its unjust
It disentitles their being
Out there in the dust

Chasing down youth
And others who try
And probe to onlookers
Really now why
As truants and clowns
They show scant respect
Sneer at and snub
Its all done for effect
These are majestic
Creatures of soul
Big bovine ruminants
Out of control
Galloping forwards
To laughter and scorn
Meanness and paltriness
Since they were born

Mocked and disregarded
The sangria flows
Runners feel heroic
Their rascality pose
Risking the horns
The great weight of beast
The bulls are atoning
Its hurting them least
They got the all clear
To take on the fight
To run like the clappers
Knowing how right

They are in their minds eye
To chase and to catch
there is no damnation
Really as such
Its history after all
Honouring saints
Post run bullfighters
Really it taints
The air we all breathe
Castigation and all
There is nothing divine
Those who answer the call

Hathor looks down
From his high place above
The Elysian Fields
Where the green grass of love
Springs from the loam
In a rich verdant hue
Waiting for bulls
Who will die as they do
In the rings in the dust
Where the heathens aspire
To torture and murder
And introduce fire
The torrid irreverence
That he can feel
All the duplicity
Which is so real.

BULL RUNNING and FIGHTING is Medieval and wrong
We need to grow up and respect animals

The 50 – 100 human victims each year
Are a sad reflection of our humanity

As for the 15 fatalites since RUNNING began
The karmic debt is huge
For the Bulls and the families who suffered the grief