Pigeons

We hear them often in the evenings
Cooing and we know
That what we hear are clearly pigeons
Most of us we know
in cities they find ledges
On roofs and windows, they
Are often attacked with netting and nails
To block their way

Rats with wings some call them
These truly beautiful souls
Very very intelligent
They know their various roles
Long ago were domesticated
The Rock Dove they were called
Truly wonderful creatures
Collaboratively schooled

They are amazing actually
Homing their quality
Wherever they find themselves
What they do and sensationally
Is monitor their position
And using the sun and the sky
And actually their compass
To return home which they apply

The pull of the earth
A sniff of the air
And they are on their way
They have binocular vision
Their visual field at play
A layout of the journey
An acoustic map they use
Truly fantastic feathers
For them fantastic news

Seventy to eight kilometres per hour
With a strong tail wind
Even faster still
Thats more sprightly than a Cheetah
All the way it will
Manage without stopping
Or veering off to rest
Used in war time spectacularly
They managed every test.

Two pigeons are in the Smithsonian
With medals they had won
The Grand British Dicken Medal
What their bravery had done
And that was during wartime
Their courage to the fore
Taking on the buzz bombs and the bullets
In the war

Posted in Animal Rights, birds and the environment | Leave a comment

Gestation crates are torture chambers

It was a man
That designed this crate
To save space in barns
However sedate
Pigs different sized pigs
Get trapped there for they
Cannot turn around at the end of the day
A pregnant pig carrying she
Will be so uncomfortable
Yes actually
A bloody farmer doesn’t care less
And pork eating morons
Don’t even stress

Posted in A day in the life, Farming, Gestation crates, Meat trade, Pigs | Leave a comment

Trophy hunters trophy rooms hunting big game in Africa

It’s really on the increase
These sick Sods toting guns
Hunting big game after trophies
Actually there are tons
Of Tuskers in Botswana
Their government prepared
To succumb to the US dollars spree
Which really makes me scared

These sixty year old veterans
They are iconic bulls
Vital to the eco system
And tourism it rolls
On each day
these massive souls
Must not be targets for
The little men
With tiny brains
And so little in their core

Americans with trophy rooms
To show their stupid mates
Much of what is sacrificed
In hunting terms it rates
Highly in the pubs and bars
Many kills I know
Are carried out by the agencies
Not the hunters
And their ego

Tanzania allows hunting parties
But Americans are
Banned
From taking back their spoils of war
Even if it is planned
Shooting all these veterans
For sport one has to say
Agencies and hunting trips
Should be closed down right away

A hunting tax should be levied
Make the sinister pay
Egocentric arse oles
Self-indulgently display
They need a damn good hiding
Avaricious twits
Indulging in such sinfulness
And to me it now sits
Squarely in the soulless mindless
Advertise their mugs
The front page of a local rag
We can pull their rugs
From under them
Expose them
No bloody shame at all
They really are degenerates
Breaking every rule

Honestly good for nothings
Heartless to a tee
Put them in an closed off space
As targets seems to me
The best idea
They can shoot each other
What a grand idea
And feed their corpses to the wild life

Posted in Africa, Death penalty, Humanity is a shithouse | Leave a comment

Rupert Lowe read some of the rape gang witness statements

In the House of Commons
One Rupert Lowe did read
A lot of unexpurgated statements
Which have led
Any to have heard them
To sicken in their soul
How the Pakistani rape gangs
And our police’s roll

Rotherham and many other cities
In these Isles
Taken down by Pakistani men
So little trials
The wind of change was racist
So many got away
With raping young aged white girls
Just make many pay
Raping them with bottles
Making babies bleed
Moving them to Pakistan
And many did succeed

A torrent of exclusion
Devil like and pain
Under age
kids groomed they were
Again and of course again
Terror struck the cobblestones the working class at war
Rupert read these statements
Never heard before

Local people ashen hearing crude dark sin
Perpetrators using acid
Wanting just to win
Hundreds of these bastards
From Rawalpindi they
Came across on sailing boats
And wiped our girls away.

Posted in Migrants | Leave a comment

Rural arrogance Rural Ignorance Rural Torture Rural agony

These so called marvellous breeding places
Pheasants and Partridges
Get to be
Made to lay millions of eggs
Have chicks it’s for the shooters, we
Hear them clucking on about
Amazing standards and short cuts none
Looked after in their lovely cages
Heart Of England fire the gun

Other than properly cared for creatures
Fed and watered and loved to bits
A reporter happened to be right there
And saw an injury at the pits
Of what could be described
As Hellish damage
A full prolapse and there it sat
Screaming out in utter terror
In filthy cages where it was at

No vet around just shit and widdle
Blood and vomit painful cries
It’s soaked feathers
Gaping wounds
An arse third class
Tending we see
Filthy gloves and bloodied body
Pushing the innards back was he
Imagine the sickening unrelenting
agony
The shooting mobsters this young hen
Would end up traversing water hell
Screaming from her busted Base frame
So small yet a dreadful smell

She oh dear an egg producer
Stressing over all that she
Was put on earth to carry out
A miracle apparently
But due to crazy hazy working
Dirty filthy nasty souls
Who look at this as just a victim
Where the hell are the controls

To be shot by gangs of shooters
Lead at the ready toxic stew
Beaters frighten
They fly skywards
That’s what any of them do
On fear we lift our precious bodies
Feathers flapping off we go
Wait for the lead shot, to down us
A contaminant as well we know.

These poor birds entirely vulnerable
Look into their eyes so clear
Suffering enormous pain
No painkillers their awful fear
Brought down to drown perhaps in water
No one cares no not at all
Shooting pretty birds is great fun
Just watch them spiral as they fall.

Homage to a neglected terribly injured egg laying pheasant for the shooting industry that supposedly never puts a foot wrong.

Posted in A country tale, A day in the life, Animal Rights, birds and the environment, Death and Dying, Food, Gamekeeping, Humanity is a shithouse, Hunting and Poaching ( includes canned hunts), Lead contaminates, Pheasant shooting, shooting | Leave a comment

Happy birthday great lady

Dorothy Brooke’s
My grannie
She possessed a heart of gold
She could feel for the horses
On empathy was sold
She loved and cared for animals
She worried for them, she
So compassionately beautiful
She exposed the cruelty

This day is her birthday
What an amazing soul
All animal lovers love her

Sent from my iPad

On 1 Jun 2026, at 12:34 pm, Richard Searight wrote:

Posted in Horses | Leave a comment

The milk maid a torturer too

What a rotten weirdo raping a female cow
Stuffing her arm to do the harm
Most people would say how
Could girls ever do such things
For the dairy boss
And still smile at the camera
I am at a loss
To understand the mentality
Of everyone involved
Drinking kidnapped babies milk
Now the mystery is solved

Cruelty torture and theft
And done by a feminine worker
On the instructions of a dairy farmer

Posted in Dairy farmers criminals, Farming, Milk and its associated problems, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Sows get no chance in love

Sows are raped
By horny bores
Locked in crates
Down on all fours
No love just ramparts
Female sadly
Why are they treated so badly 🐖

Posted in A country tale, Animal Rights, Pigs | Leave a comment

Mother bears their orphans dieback

Ignorance is bliss
For those
Guards who wear them
I suppose
A mother bear is slaughtered she
Killed for her fur indecently
Canada why do this trade

Posted in A not my king story, Bears, Canada | Leave a comment

Who’d be a mother cow

Dairies are seats of great violence
And pain
Where mothers are raped
Undergoing such pain
They carry their babies
Secured in a place
Covered in excrement
On their little face
Taken away
So that humanity
can then buy its milk
Such depravity

Bovine nutrition
That is the mission

Copious pus
An issue for all

Stop eating dairy chocolate, ice cream anything with dairy is absolute cruelty

Posted in A country tale, Abandonment, Animal Rights, Brainwashing the youth, breast milk, Cacao or chocolate, CAFO's and factory farms, Calves and Cows and Bulls, Meat trade | Leave a comment

Sydney witnessed the most heinous of crimes against a 17 year old girl

Australia witnesses injustice here
A rape lasting six hours
Imagine the fear
They destroyed her
Such vehemence
It’s very clear

In the throes of such torture
This tyrannical four
Engulfed her in sex
An act of such gore
Of evil personified
For four months poor soul
She lay in a coma
Her life over
A war

in her soul
And who were they
And how long will they spend in prison at tge publics expense

They should be put to death
Without favour

Posted in Abandonment, Australia and the epic journeys, Grooming gangs, Migrants, womens issues, world domination, Zombies | Leave a comment

Pigs are born with clean habits

Born without sweat glands
Which is then why
pigs
Need to stay cool
Under the sky

All grouped together
Farrowed in crates
Their urge to remain clean
Against reprobates

Farmers who care
Nothing
Animals who
Made to stand where they dump
This story is true

Posted in Piglets suckling, Pigs | Leave a comment

I have yellow poppies in my garden

The Welsh Poppy
Good and yellow,
Symbolises some success
Prosperity and optimism
A land that’s kind of mellow

Shingle banks
Good drainage
Loves the sun that shines
Ground shading
Good weed clearing
A living mulch are signs

That beautify
Up yellow
blossoms
Of the prolific kind
Papery thin and winsome
They make a lovely gift to find

Keep away from Hosta’s
Or Sunflowers if you can
Any moisture loving plants
That is the best plan
Poppies represent the fae
Dancing every break of day
Butterflies and Bees exclaim
And their feel for life is much the same.

Posted in Faery, Flowers | Leave a comment

Anyone for sushi?

It’s all about freshness
And so the Japanese
Keep me alive
Choking yes one big tease
Gasping for air
The huge pangs of pain
So you can eat fresh
Again and again

By Fredrick Fish

Posted in A tale of the sea, Abandonment, Commercial fishermen, Japan, Japanese food obscenity | Leave a comment

Saving a fox

Con Cáo Được Cứu Thoát… Và Điều Nó Làm Hôm Sau Khiến Tất Cả Sững Sờ youtube.com/shorts/gj9xtT3… via @YouTube

Most foxes know
That humans show
Malice to their breed
And being knotted up
Inside his garden
It could lead
To injury
But some humans
Are fateful to the cause
To free the fox from bondage

Posted in A country tale, foxes | Leave a comment

Monsters in our midst

When the suffering of others
Becomes the pleasure for the few
These grooming gangs that operate
It is my honest view
Arrogance and ignorance
On the vilest scale
Carried out on children
And on infants doth derail
All argument of sanity
For innocence appears
A cursor in their dark warped minds
And the horror and the fears
Collectively obsessive
Totally indisposed
Angst ridden and tormenting.
Crucially they have nosed
Down into a quagmire
Of their own making
Far below
Their dishing out the agony
And the victims undergo
Terror and depravity
A long time malady
Collective demonstrations
Of what is intolerably
Worse than

words can muster
On babies as we hear
Grooming pregnant mothers
To maltreat what was their dear
Offspring it is hard to fathom
The evil path they choose
Ugliness personified
To continually abuse

All these men, these monsters
Utterly depraved
Really should be put to death
Nothing about them shoukd be saved
Wickedness malignancy,
Callous through and through
Collectively they should be hanged
On a hanging tree my view

Such malevolent intentions
Malignant through and through
Blackguards of the lowest order
Everything they do
Homicidal hatchet men
Unpardonable now they
Require a death sentence
For their iniquitous display.

Posted in Death penalty, Grooming gangs | Leave a comment

Trophy hunters

A divine right
As a hunter to be
Killing the elephant
Yes painfully
Not for any reason
Only that he, the hunter
Can kill and
Most certainly
For me trophy hunters
Need to be
Educated about life
And never to be
Given their freedom
Not any more
And that killing Wild life is precious
For sure
Just To win some trophy
Jail time at least
Up to ten years
For the death of each beast

If that doesn’t stop them
Painfully they
Have to be shot
At the end of the day.

Posted in Elephants, Hunting and Poaching ( includes canned hunts), Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Gifting Sparrows

At first level
Fed the birds today
Sunflower hearts they love
Nibbling fastidiously
Fallen from above
Teasels buds and foodie hits
The early voters they
Find the good that I have left
Earlier in the day
All of them were twittering
Joyous hearts aloud
Fluttering and muttering
It’s a glorious sound
Clearly with discernment
They scurry here and there
Purists and idealists
All very much aware.

Posted in A country tale, A day in the life, birds and the environment | Leave a comment

It happened in Bangladesh so I hear

Meat eating those of you who do
Who originate from far away
Killing and dismembering a holy flock
Making beautiful animals pay
With their lives
Everyday
Torturing them
Can’t you see
The agony
For them was real

And for what
And for why
Did they really have to die

In absolute agony
Thanks to you

Posted in A day in the life | Leave a comment

I heard what a pig said in his darkness

In a craven cellar
A vile gestation crate
Farrowing disasters
Sadly are of late
Squalid spaces smelling
Of excrement and pee
And I will die an Angel
And shits will then eat me

Posted in A country tale, A day in the life, Piglets suckling, Pigs | Leave a comment

Farming pigs

His thoughts about the pigs he keeps
This ignorant farmer who
Imprisons them all from day one
And he thinks he is true
They do no have sweat glands
So he keeps them in the heat
Throws mud at them and expletives
He surely is a chest
Pigs are glorious animals

Posted in A country tale, A day in the life, Farming, Piglets suckling, Pigs | Leave a comment

Luca’s Photography

It’s clearly a therapy
That we can see
With his Canon he captures
Art forms that be
Hiding in plain sight
Fastidious sense
Awarding and sharing
New found confidence

A stage set observing
A great panoply
The Snowdonia sky’s she
That captures the eye
The moon’s strong embrace
On our senses we see
An intriguing picture
His photography

He wanders alone
With his eye on the sky
At the hoot of an owl
That close by might fly
A fox might have shuffled
Rodents might spy
A warrior gently
Sharing a sigh

For night forms
And cloudscapes
And genuine beauty
Of wonder where thunder
He sees as his duty
To record the heavens
The hamlet below
Lit up with the lights
A perspective on show

A study of grasses
And edibles he
Bathing good taste
A refined delicacy
Sort of eye candy
To wanderers who
See the height of the heavens
Come back into view

Euphuistic and precious
The pictures we see
Kind of theatrical and naturally
Pictures of forests and mountaintops where
As a sage with a lens
He doth bountifully share

A wisdom of honour
His photography
Reaching nights of expression
Through his artistry
The great elementals
He captures with ease
The forests below
And The wonder of trees

Refined for the city eye
His artistry
Very discerning
Such learning can be
A delicate hand
As great lenses that spy
With painstaking comment
We see the true sky

For me it’s to witness
The wonder he sees
And it’s with admiration
That surely does please
An old man who once
Took him long long ago
Into the forest to begin
This new show

Last night I saw real lunar activity
Craters and shading
And true artistry
Wonder was working
Luca was there
His attention to detail
Wanting to share
To those of us interested
In his subtlety
The mystique and the magic
Set out for me

Posted in A day in the life, Venerable and respected, Wales | Leave a comment

In the ancient forest

I live near the forest
As ancient as hell
Where the mosses and lichens
Summarily spell
Ancientnessness none of of the modern day stuff
In the great web of life
Where so much is enough

Glyphosate,
toxins
shooters lead shots
Pumped into sad birds
these rich toady snots
With money to burn
could use tungsten to fire
But prefer to use lead
which is ofcourse dire

Get into the ancientness
Misted and old
Lichens bursting upwards
Seemingly like gold
Dust accumulated from aged specks of care
Cortisol rising inflammation aware
The Japanese are into it
They know the ancient ways
They drink their ceremonials
And then their old brain plays

Evidential theories
Of old forests trailing deep
Vibrations of the peace on earth
The great ancestral sweep
Of time, cuts inflammation
Draws waxy shadows through
I believe the forest
Will do great things for you.

Inspired by a instagram post from Claudie Ferri
may 31/5

Posted in Forests and wild places | Leave a comment

The voice

Competing,
imagine that
Singing away
An audience listening
This is your day
The soul in you cries
The heartbeat you hear
Your hands clenched and warming
And there’s a tear

Rolling down your cheek
You are moved by it all
Watching the audience
Hearing the fall
Of the traffic the wind
The chatter, it’s there
Watching them smile
Yes being aware

Posted in Musical Bric-a-Brac | Leave a comment

Opera

Years ago
Up in London
Covent Garden
I stood
Singing those sweet love songs
Just cos I could

My friend her guitar
A soprano was she
We sang for our supper
For a nice pot of tea
Jasmine or sencha
Or genmaicha
Hitting the high notes
Travelling far

We made sixty old pounds
Some clapped,
some jeered
Opera
on the placement
Yea it seemed weird
So close to the real stars
And us on the street
Like mice in a way
Trying hard to compete

Posted in Musical Bric-a-Brac | Leave a comment

Busking in the high street

It’s an unchained melody
Cluttering streets
Loads of passers by
Unaware of the beats
The simple guitar
The lilt of the voice
Some stand and swoon
Accepting the choice
Others a great sea
Of inveterate souls
Shopping not stopping
With other goals
There’s those who love music
And those who can’t hear
Who have, come out shopping
And, they stay clear
Shopping bags stuffed
Chatting away
This is what busking is
Every day.

It’s where we prove our worth
Singing away
Our ring of softness
Hearing you play
Others just chatter
As they stroll by
They think your a nuisance
That glint in your eye
They can never see
No problem I say
Sing out those melodies everyday

Just write those poems
Post them and share
Very few watching
Very few care
You are out on the ether
Taking your sound
Breaching the clutter
Covering ground

Infamous shadows
Chase here and there
As darkness closes in
The light more aware
You are still singing
It breaks through the night
Busking alone there
And it just feels right.

Posted in Musical Bric-a-Brac | Leave a comment

Close to the wild

From our window
We see them the high peaks away
Wildness apparent
Almost every day
Close to the wild woods
Where wild sounds exist
The stoat and the fox
Faces lost in the mist
They may peer at your window
Under the moon
That swims in the heavens
As a Stevie Nicks tune
Plays on the tellie
Stevie is here
Beaming into your living room
Top hat, it’s clear
A wonderful closeup
Better than being
With her she
Sings in your house
Rhythmic shadows embrace
Ear drops of silver and soul
This is Awelfa close to the mountains
With the nights and the lights in control.

Posted in Musical Bric-a-Brac | Leave a comment

Friendships in the garden

Flowers and there are many
In gardens everywhere
But a genuine quality
To actually be aware
Marigolds reduce nematodes
Often in the soil
And poppies suppress weed growth
Saving us the toil
Wallflowers good with orchard plants
Lupins aid the Rose
A good nitrogen fixer
More then just to suppose.

Posted in A country tale | Leave a comment

Vegetable companions

The arrogance of ignorant man
Gardeners of sort
Who just deem to imagine
How growing things needs thought
Groups of various edibles
Some operating well
With companion planting
Not something people sell

Asparagus loves Parsley
And basil seems to be
Helpful but for certain
Onions dreadfully
And of course potatoes
Are aliens in fact
Planted with asparagus
Detrimentally react

like most human beings
Some we don’t get along
It’s the same of course
Amongst the flowers
Differences belong
Growing them together
Detrimentally
Can punish us for our arrogance
Interestingly

Take Beans
That some call pulses
Apparently love Beets
Borage, carrots cauliflower
And cabbage somehow greets
Cucumbers and tomatoes
But never should one grow
Chives fennel or garlic
So Now we are in the know

Rue and sage are no no’s
With cucumbers it seems.
Parsnips and potatoes
For celery bad dreams
All round it seems
Imagine it
Broad beans hate fennel so
Dill Rosemary and radish
Carrots will forclose
On having them around about
Just shows you other plants
Have the power to upset
And it’s not all down to chance

Posted in A country tale, A day in the life | Leave a comment

Awelfa’s garden

It comes on all levels
Alpine inclines
Fruit trees and ferns
So many signs
Of deep thoughts
And caring
Selections we see
Wild edibles bordering
Attract the Bee

No immaculate borders
Nor flowers in straight rows
All sorts of orders
Really that pose
Magical colours
Ancient type leaves
Natures my gardener
Along with tall trees

A wood at the back
Hazels we see
Holly and hawthorn
Give shade naturally
Dry stone steps
Boldly set perfectly
Move to high levels
And look beautifully

Pebbles and slate pieces
Form a bold path
Attracting the sun
Whose rays do bath
The higher levels
In sunshine and soul
With bunches of flowers
Kind of out of control

A sloworm or two
Newts in our tank
Butterflies hawk moths
Cash in the bank
All sorts of birds
Who share their song
Who drink from our gutters
Where they do belong

Posted in Wales | Leave a comment