TRIPE
Unbelieving nostrils flare upon each taxed face
smelling death's breath in an unfamiliar place.
Survival's panic flashes in their innocent eyes
as not guilty pleas echo in their unheeded cries!
The end comes with steel piercing a trapped head
then shackles grip hind legs, before they are dead.
Hoisting them stupefied to where jugulars are cut
now no more open fields, or leisurely casual strut!
Amid the stench of death and near congealed blood
the compulsory spilling out of that morning's cud.
For the stomach walls to be misshapen then dipped
in mother's milk, after all tubes have been clipped!
Hired slaughtermen sharpen blades to start again
on those left cowering without a future to sustain.
With only a raw instinct, fostered by others fright,
oh, how well all good meat eaters will eat tonight!
sonofadam
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Posted: Sep 2009
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Author: Unknown
I am the king of kings whose name is still neat.
The strongest one who doesn't know what weakness means.
I am the worthy creature who doesn't eat except meat.
Shame on you human you scandalized the glory of lions.
Shame on you Ozymandias, our body can't be yours.
We, unlike you, are neither greedy nor steel.
Look upon the rules that we respect in wars.
The greediest one of us spends days on one meal.
The rules of our combat were still honorable and fair.
Kill me man, torture, or slay me, but do not disguise in my honour.
The crimes you commit make Gulliver despair.
May the lion-body of Remises leave the evil head and be a runner.
Fortunately, I am still a lion with hairy head.
Who respect the rules that made by the dead.
A poem by Fayez
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Posted: Jun 2009
About this poem:
I wrote this poem when I was studying at Bethlehem University. I wrote when the war of Iraq had broken out. I felt sad for people who die everyday and found that Lions are good creatures that follow rules, don't lie and....
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Author: Unknown
What is it makes your old yard dog
Bay all night at the moon,
In chorus with the wild coyote's
Archaic clannish tune?
By daylight he's content enough
To lay around and nap.
Domesticated by his look
A ward of table scrap.
But nightfall wakens something deep
Where mind and soul convene.
Some age-old longing locked away
Embedded in his genes.
The same thing makes a fella
Who is both steadfast and sane,
Jerk down a rope and join the chase
With slack pitched in his rein.
His slight regard for consequence
Attests to what's inside.
A banner unfurled honestly,
Impossible to hide.
Some know it on the ocean's waves.
Some dig it out of mines.
It finds us on the city streets
Or high up in the pines.
It's played out in the stadiums
For all the multitude,
Or realized in the cedar breaks
In perfect solitude.
That we fool others and ourselves
It matters not at all.
We're ruled by what's inside us
When we hear the coyote call.
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Posted: Sep 2009
About this poem:
This poem came to me as I was riding with some friends high up in the mountains a few years ago. I'd say the poem out loud and we'd all repeat it , finding the words, making it complete. :-) It speaks of man's desire to answer what's inside. :-)
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FRISKIE THE SQUIRREL
As the morning sun shines on the soft fluffy snow
The birds on the treetops are looking below
When out of his home comes frisky the squirrel
Scurrying and scampering up the tree he does go
Than sits on a tree branch with his tail curled just so
Chattering and chattering at the movements below
Then along comes thumper with snow shoes for feet
Trips over a log than takes a big leap
Benny the weasel he sneaks through the snow
Hoping that no one will see where he goes
But Hotter the owl he sees him right now
Swoops down to scare him but where did he go
Friskies’s now tired of the commotion below
So he drops down an acorn and off they all go
Written by
Dorothy Elaine Calvert
Copyrights©
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Posted: Sep 2009
About this poem:
I have written about five poems about Friskie my grandson used to just love for me to tell his about friskie befor he went to sleep
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Author: Unknown
I like bees, they're so
Yellow and black, and yellow
And black and yellow
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Posted: Sep 2009
About this poem:
i wrote this cos i love bees
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Author: Unknown
They have life,
They are flesh and blood,
They have families,
They are just like you and me.
They feel pain,
They get hurt,
Though they can't say it,
The way we blurt.
Animals just look different,
They aren’t other,
Created by the same Creator,
We just are crueller.
We conquer,
We give them no space,
We do not compliment them,
As how our Creator said.
Know you people,
Creations of God,
Love other creatures,
Do not get them gnawed.
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Posted: Jul 2009
About this poem:
A poem dedicated to all animals. Praying that mankind would give them space.
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Author: Unknown
for how sweet you are like a strawberry by far much more than sugar and spice alot more than everything nice as there is alot of love in the air youre the woman for me i declare the wedding will be soon how down to earth we are planning our dreams starting a family living happily til death do us apart our love joy and god always in our heart nothing to over come us to tear us apart as we stay together forever
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Posted: Jul 2009
About this poem:
its about how love feels
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