Poetry

The Unraveling

We don’t yet know the depths of deep despair
That will engulf us everywhere
When life in wondrous forms is lost
No calculations could reveal the cost
Of earth impoverished by human greed
Oblivious to the world we really need;
There’s something rotten at the core
Of those who can’t stand back in awe
To marvel at those wild delights
In nature’s glorious sounds and sights,
And when that ghostly silence reigns
Inducing tears and untold pains,
Man will grieve for all that’s gone
From acts that cannot be undone.

A Visit from St Francis

Twas the fight before Christmas, when all through the house
Every creature was stirring, except Santa’s spouse,
Whose stockings were flung by her mules with despair
In the hopes that the family would soon disappear.

The children had wrestled, now smug in their beds
With visions of ipads and games in their heads,
And mamma in bondage gear ready to snap
Had just pickled our brains and danced on my lap.

When out on the lawn the dogs had grown fatter,
From far too much junk food as health doesn’t matter,
Away to the hen house I flew there to slash
The throat of our turkey we’d named Ogden Nash.

The fat on the breast of the new-fallen snow-
Goose defied every concept of kindness we show,
When to our wandering eyes disappear
The plight of such creatures as piglets and steer.

With a little bold killer so deadly and slick,
I knew in a moment – it’s all been a trick!
More rapid than beagles in labs for the same
Ends hairs all bristled but no-one to blame.

Now rasher, enhancer of pasta and mix-in!
On vomit! On, stupid on, doner and bits-in!
To stop all the torture! To stop all the gall
Now back away! Back away! Back away all!

As wry thieves that before mild curried eggs try
To steal every one laid, don’t understand why,
So up to the tree top all slaughtered withdrew
An array full of poise, and their dignity too!

And when in a sprinkling of turd as a spoof
The dancing and singing provided the proof,
As I stuck out my head, to turn up the sound,
Down the farmyard rejoiced where new life had been found.

None dressed in fur nor with leather on foot,
And no clothes were tarnished by fibres that put
A bundle of ploys to get wool on the rack,
Or half naked geese whose warm feathers lack.

Their eyes how they twinkled and cackling how merry
Their peeps among roses, not yells from the ferry!
Their hand-to-mouth existence had shone with the flow
Of kindness and trust we have all come to know.

The stump of the beak and the clipping of teeth,
And the smoke that encircled the flesh underneath,
Had all been replaced by scenes on the telly
That shook as they laughed, no pigs turned to jelly.

Neither fillet nor rump, nor milk on the shelf
And I laughed at the tofu in spite of myself!
A drink or a pie, where none lost its head,
Soon tastes start to grow for the vegetable spread.

They spoke not a word, but continued to lurk
Still captured in prisons as slaves to hard work,
And laying down arms their captors all froze
And giving up cod, their karma soon rose.

They sang night and day of extreme views that bristle
With subversive compassion (praised lentils and thistle!),
But I heard them proclaim, ‘ere we forget their plight
‘Happy Christmas to all – keep up the good fight!’

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