God made little animals
To live true precious lives
Not to be cut up in pieces
Experimentation survives
Not the shampoo or the scent
Human technology
Is cruel it’s really evil
And it doesn’t have to be
Continued..
Leave us be
Our eternity is ours not yours
A family of bears
On a golf course did play
With the poles and the flag
In a jovial way
Golfers frustrated
No hole in one
No birdey no nothing
Under the sun
Little babies thats all they are
Calves to the slaughter
Each one a star
In it’s mother eyes
But the dairy man
Sees money to be made
A magical valley
surrounded by hills
ancients and modern
And bird life that spills
sea birds and Wood Pigeons
Buzzards Jackdaws
blue tits and sparrows
and thunderous applause
from the jets out of Anglesey
cutting the sky
house martens swallows
each one with a sigh
Dunnocks
and thrushes and black birds
No lie
The mountains take heed
the mists come and go
stone form the bone
and the strength that’s on show
wallers backs bent
muscles becoming
Bold interlocking
And curiously numbing
Poetry proclaims to those
Who see the cruelty around
A gentle form of worldly prose
To rake those embittered torturers
Hunters butchers they
Farmers harmers wild embalmers
Who actually portray
Ugliness personified
A cat and a dog
shared a child’s trampoline
up and down leaping
the happiest scene
both bouncing ruefully
the dog heavier he
watched the cat reach the sky
for much lighter she be
Playful the two of them
a garden scene
one after another
The dog being mean
his weight so much heavier
watch the cat fly
higher and higher
It’s horn through your throat
Out your mouth
What do you say
At last it’s the bull
Getting his way
With the Spaniard a torturer
Karma control
I just hope it hurts
They flip and they flap and they flop
It is air
They are hurting so much
But are we aware
Of the pain and the suffering
We look and we smile
Their agony shared
They cannot reconcile
Of course they do
But many don’t see the tears
They don’t know the fears
They create the pain
Again and again
And all of this is so insane
Filling the poet with pure disdain.
Rainbow colours
Pots of gold
Love and life
So I am told
Hooded figures
Snake skin skies
Hooded lady
Realise
Your worth
Shook hands with him
Patted his back
The criminal took his attack
To a sleeping lion
He felt the result
Of a trigger pulled
A real insult
Of depravity
In the shelter you smiled at me
You gave me hope you did agree
I was for you your home would be
Shared yes sort of shared with me
Then bored you were you told me I
Had to go back which made me cry
Raised my hopes you miserable sod
Brought me closer to my god 🐕
You and me
We shall agree
Whether ape or pig or goose
Love and light
Day and night
Butterfly or Bee or Moose
Elephant or tiger snake
Honestly I am no fake
You and me
We do agree
Such primitiveness of shape and form
Whose feline worth
whose perfect storm
whose primal scream
oh venerable one
behold whose action be undone
winged and powerfully
Could be a jinn
whose epiphany
Is wearing thin
the venerated spirit wakes
a mesmerist for all our sakes
she be a Lynx of bobcat stock
an antediluvian from a flock
of faerie folk of long ago
hatched purposefully
as well we know
winged was she
a flighted soul
Imagined in each spectral role
a snarling ectoplasmic roar
gently broached and flighted for
winged, desiring airborne light
in an instant purposeful flight
the mystical
the honourable fay
whose spirit comes
with the break of day
oh Lynx you snarling epiphany
a climbing grabbing mystery
your colours match the seasons gifts
as powerfully your body lifts
your ascension cometh
And All can see
what is in fact illusory
A concocted and imagined
Rhyme
Whose feyness
spreads it’s light
through time
a flighted feline
mystically
howls and roars
intentionally.
Happy Birthday My dearest Dear
24th August
feline worth
Life is love
And love is care
Animals nurture
Animals share
It’s something we all should be aware
Of Not killing and torturing them
For profit
Ecuador it’s jungle
greener than any i have ever seen
bear witness to the undergrowth
really honestly to have beenAmongst the best
in tangled spheres
where wildness witnesses constant tears
where the Indigenous live and playIts the oil men now who get their way
digging in a paradise
spoiling ruining on a throw of dice
death a constancy
threat and grief
total ruin it’s their belief
Ecuador protect and run
the myriad tree life
under the sun
life is life there
as for oil
the
darkly spirit
that destroys soil
kills off life force
ends what’s true
we must protect
them
that’s my view
they leave their mess
in pools to fester
Toxic waste of course they pester
The angelic tribes
of course they do
Mohanmala stood her ground
A giant the biggest around
Fought off poachers the heartless men
Wildness lived inside her,
when
She came upon them her size her roar
Meant something
Our feathered friends
Delight us so
Birds of a feather
Should never go
With the thrust of cordite
The lead of soul
Standing in hides
The cowards we know
Rich of pocket
Heartless fools
Whose blood and guts
Taint Countless pools
I was born an Englishman
As a baby in the war
In my lovely mothers arms
In the Anderson shelter more
Than ever buzz bombs raging
Ration books and strife
I was born in London Town
Balance and poise
Is one of my joys
As goats we can clamber and leap
The mountainous paths
The rocks ventures
We fly without wind
And we reap
Look in the distance
What can we see
A beautiful tower
And of course history
And mystery calling
Glastonbury’s name
The magic is every where
So poets claim
And
John Wickes 9
Does eternally shine
The eight legged architectural builder
Using silks with such acclaim
Weaving unbelievable traps
Honestly it’s a lovely game
Glastonbury born and bred
Stared at closely by Michelle
Putting me on line she said
Something she does well.
Those disagreeable rotters
Hunters so to say
Who chase my brethren
Everywhere
Making our hearts pay
Giving us the frighteners
Shooting us at will
Leave us alone for goodness sake
Talk about efficient
These Plumbers really be
resourceful, they are disciplined
Such scrupulosity
nothing phases either of them
both are cheerfully
willing and convivial
unflappable in fact
Level headed easy going
its great how they react
intuitive and on the ball
they pull together, they
are adept and logical
and skilful in the way
reliable and resourceful
I have to say that, I
appreciated their rapport
solving problems which is why
Paragons of Plumbing
reliable are they
buoyant and convivial
in every single way
a joy to leave them at it
Where both of them are key
They clean up after working
so capable I say
full on ingenuity
and trustworthy they be
unequalled in my experience
and a cheerful authenticity.
Dafyd and Owen
Lloyds Plumbing and Heating
07534436754
A sweeping oil auction
is now underway
the Congo is reeling
it’s a vile display
Bonobo’s are precious
Bonobo’s are true
we love the forest
The LILUNGU
These wonderful angels
they need us to be
forthright and protective
Its no mystery
Oil and the Congo
Honest it’s why
We must protect wildlife
we must.
Just look here
in a soft repose
and lets create
a solution for the solace
and that criss cross gate
a dry stone implementation
a constancy of soul
covered with such greenery
it be the mothers role
to beautify
and to lend the eye
To a reason just to stroll.
Those piglets were thrown
in the hole and they cried
their little hearts beating
life for them denied
swags porkers life forms
the earth on their backs
we watch are they destined
for hell, they relax
alone in their darkness
inner screams sound
shovel after shovel
in their pit underground
gasping
for air
Suffering so
the farmer gave them the big nod as we know
One day the farmer
will get his reward
when he lies in his box
and achieves a reward
maybe on his death bed
The porkers he’s killed
will come back to haunt him
There’s a warmth in the clouds
almost a smile
Dolgellau’s at peace
It seems for a while
a stillness of plant life
the mountains they doze
light and composure
even a rose
At the head of my gate
as pink as can be
Its thorns really sharp
hang ominously.
they cannot survive
When buried alive
Imagine their thoughts
As the farmer escorts
These beautiful beasts
Into hell and the soil
Shovel after shovel
Hearts bursting they toil
To get out of this pit
Frightened as hell
They were alive
Breathe in and the smell of burning fear
becomes tragically inevitable
Rex Tyler is a Poet, Campaigner, former owner of an organic shop of 30 years, and Public Speaker living in Berkhamsted, UK.
