Animals in Poetry

[Bowwowmeow]

I found a nice online collection of poetry about animals I thought I would share. But be careful; some of these will make you cry.

[Bowwowmeow]

THE DEATH OF THE OLD PLYMOUTH ROCK HEN
by Senator Eugene McCarthy

It was tragic when her time came
After a lifetime of laying brown eggs
Among the white of leghorns.
Now, unattractive to the rooster,
Laying no more eggs,
Faking it on other hens' nests,
Caught in the act,
Taken to the woodpile
In the winter of execution.


A quick stroke of the axe,
One first and last upward cast
Of eyes that in life
Had looked only down,
Scanning the ground for seeds and worms
And for the shadow of the hawk.
Now those eyes are covered
By yellow lids,
Closing from the bottom up.


Decapitated, she did not act
Like a chicken with its head cut off.
No pirouettes, no somersaults,
No last indignity.
Like an English queen, she died.
On wings that had never known flight.
She flew, straight into the woodpile,
And there beat out slow death
While her curdled voice ran out in blood.


A scalding and a plucking of no purpose.
No goose feathers for a comforter.
No duck's down for a pillow.
No quill for a pen.
In the opened body, no entrail message for the haruspex.
Not one egg of promise in the oviduct.
In the gray gizzard, no diamond or emerald,
But only half-ground corn,
Sure evidence of unprofitability.
The breast and legs,
The wings and thighs,
The strong heart,
The pope's nose,
Fit only for chicken soup and stew.
And then in March, near winter's end,
When bloodied and feathered wood is used,
The odor of burnt offerings
Above the kitchen stove.

[Bowwowmeow]

THE BEAR HUNT
by President Abraham Lincoln

A wild-bear chace, didst never see?
Then hast thou lived in vain.
Thy richest bump of glorious glee,
Lies desert in thy brain.

When first my father settled here,
'Twas then the frontier line:
The panther's scream, filled night with fear
And bears preyed on the swine.

But wo for Bruin's short lived fun,
When rose the squealing cry;
Now man and horse, with dog and gun,
For vengeance, at him fly.

A sound of danger strikes his ear;
He gives the breeze a snuff;
Away he bounds, with little fear,
And seeks the tangled rough.

On press his foes, and reach the ground,
Where's left his half munched meal;
The dogs, in circles, scent around,
And find his fresh made trail.

With instant cry, away they dash,
And men as fast pursue;
O'er logs they leap, through water splash,
And shout the brisk halloo.

Now to elude the eager pack,
Bear shuns the open ground;
Th[r]ough matted vines, he shapes his track
And runs it, round and round.

The tall fleet cur, with deep-mouthed voice,
Now speeds him, as the wind;
While half-grown pup, and short-legged fice,
Are yelping far behind.

And fresh recruits are dropping in
To join the merry corps:
With yelp and yell,--a mingled din--
The woods are in a roar.

And round, and round the chace now goes,
The world's alive with fun;
Nick Carter's horse, his rider throws,
And more, Hill drops his gun.

Now sorely pressed, bear glances back,
And lolls his tired tongue;
When as, to force him from his track,
An ambush on him sprung.

Across the glade he sweeps for flight,
And fully is in view.
The dogs, new-fired, by the sight,
Their cry, and speed, renew.

The foremost ones, now reach his rear,
He turns, they dash away;
And circling now, the wrathful bear,
They have him full at bay.

At top of speed, the horse-men come,
All screaming in a row,
"Whoop! Take him Tiger. Seize him Drum."
Bang,--bang--the rifles go.

And furious now, the dogs he tears,
And crushes in his ire,
Wheels right and left, and upward rears,
With eyes of burning fire.

But leaden death is at his heart,
Vain all the strength he plies.
And, spouting blood from every part,
He reels, and sinks, and dies.

And now a dinsome clamor rose,
'Bout who should have his skin;
Who first draws blood, each hunter knows,
This prize must always win.

But who did this, and how to trace
What's true from what's a lie,
Like lawyers, in a murder case
They stoutly argufy.

Aforesaid fice, of blustering mood,
Behind, and quite forgot,
Just now emerging from the wood,
Arrives upon the spot.

With grinning teeth, and up-turned hair--
Brim full of spunk and wrath,
He growls, and seizes on dead bear,
And shakes for life and death.

And swells as if his skin would tear,
And growls and shakes again;
And swears, as plain as dog can swear,
That he has won the skin.

Conceited whelp! we laugh at thee--
Nor mind, that now a few
Of pompous, two-legged dogs there be,
Conceited quite as you.

[Bowwowmeow]

UNSEEN THEY SUFFER

Unseen they suffer
Unheard they cry
In agony they linger
In loneliness they die.

(unknown author..
poem about laboratory
animals..

[Bowwowmeow]

Feel free to add some of your own favorites, or your own poetry!

[Bowwowmeow]

WE ARE THE LIVING GRAVE OF MURDERED BEASTS
by George Bernard Shaw

We are the living graves of murdered beasts
Slaughtered to satisfy our appetites
We never pause to wonder at our feasts
If animals, like men, can possibly
have rights
We pray on Sundays that we may have light
To guide our footsteps on the path we
tread
We're sick of war We do not want to
fight
The thought of it now fills our hearts with dread
And yet we gorge ourselves upon the dead
Like carrion crows we live and feed on meat
Regardless of the suffering and pain
We cause by doing so. If thus we treat
Defenseless animals for sport or gain
How can we hope in this world to attain
the PEACE we say we are so anxious for
We pray for it o'er hecatombs of slain
To God, while outraging the moral law
Thus cruelty begets its offspring: war.

(Some believe that George Bernard Shaw ghostwrote
at least one of the books of the Booth who founded
the Salvation Army)
(The Army has lapsed from the vegetarian diet of
General Bramwell Booth.. which was based on the
teachings of Christ)

[Oracl]

I first read this poem when I was at primary school.

THE WILD DUCK
by John Masefield

Twilight. Red in the West.
Dimness. A glow on the wood.
The teams plod home to rest.
The wild duck come to glean.
O souls not understood,
What a wild cry in the pool;
What things have the farm ducks seen
That they cry so--huddle and cry?
Only the soul that goes.
Eager. Eager. Flying.
Over the globe of the moon,
Over the wood that glows.
Wings linked. Necks a-strain,
A rush and a wild crying.

A cry of the long pain
In the reeds of a steel lagoon,
In a land that no man knows.

[Bowwowmeow]

THE GARDEN
by William Cowper

Well--one at least is safe. One shelter'd hare
has never heard the sanguinary yell
of cruel man, exulting in her woes.
Innocent partner of my peaceful home,
Whom ten long years' experience of my care
Has made at last familiar; she has lost
Much of her vigilant instinctive dread,
Not needdful here, beneath a roof like mine.
Yes--thou may'st eat they bread, and lick the hand
That feeds thee; thou may'st frolic on the floor
At evening, and at night retire secure
To thy straw couch, and slumber unalarm'd;
For I have gain'd the confidence, have peldg'd
All that is human in me to protect
Thine unsuspecting gratitude and love.
If I survive thee I will dig thy grave;
And, when I place thee in it, sighing, say,
I knew at least one hare that had a friend.

[paul]

William Blake's
Auguries of Innocence


To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.

A robin redbreast in a cage
Puts all heaven in a rage.

A dove-house fill'd with doves and pigeons
Shudders hell thro' all its regions.
A dog starv'd at his master's gate
Predicts the ruin of the state.

A horse misused upon the road
Calls to heaven for human blood.
Each outcry of the hunted hare
A fibre from the brain does tear.

A skylark wounded in the wing,
A cherubim does cease to sing.
The game-cock clipt and arm'd for fight
Does the rising sun affright.

Every wolf's and lion's howl
Raises from hell a human soul.

The wild deer, wand'ring here and there,
Keeps the human soul from care.
The lamb misus'd breeds public strife,
And yet forgives the butcher's knife.

The bat that flits at close of eve
Has left the brain that won't believe.
The owl that calls upon the night
Speaks the unbeliever's fright.

He who shall hurt the little wren
Shall never be belov'd by men.
He who the ox to wrath has mov'd
Shall never be by woman lov'd.

The wanton boy that kills the fly
Shall feel the spider's enmity.
He who torments the chafer's sprite
Weaves a bower in endless night.

The caterpillar on the leaf
Repeats to thee thy mother's grief.
Kill not the moth nor butterfly,
For the last judgement draweth nigh.

He who shall train the horse to war
Shall never pass the polar bar.
The beggar's dog and widow's cat,
Feed them and thou wilt grow fat.

The gnat that sings his summer's song
Poison gets from slander's tongue.
The poison of the snake and newt
Is the sweat of envy's foot.

The poison of the honey bee
Is the artist's jealousy.

The prince's robes and beggar's rags
Are toadstools on the miser's bags.
A truth that's told with bad intent
Beats all the lies you can invent.

It is right it should be so;
Man was made for joy and woe;
And when this we rightly know,
Thro' the world we safely go.

Joy and woe are woven fine,
A clothing for the soul divine.
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.

The babe is more than swaddling bands;
Every farmer understands.
Every tear from every eye
Becomes a babe in eternity;

This is caught by females bright,
And return'd to its own delight.
The bleat, the bark, bellow, and roar,
Are waves that beat on heaven's shore.

The babe that weeps the rod beneath
Writes revenge in realms of death.
The beggar's rags, fluttering in air,
Does to rags the heavens tear.

The soldier, arm'd with sword and gun,
Palsied strikes the summer's sun.
The poor man's farthing is worth more
Than all the gold on Afric's shore.

One mite wrung from the lab'rer's hands
Shall buy and sell the miser's lands;
Or, if protected from on high,
Does that whole nation sell and buy.

He who mocks the infant's faith
Shall be mock'd in age and death.
He who shall teach the child to doubt
The rotting grave shall ne'er get out.

He who respects the infant's faith
Triumphs over hell and death.
The child's toys and the old man's reasons
Are the fruits of the two seasons.

The questioner, who sits so sly,
Shall never know how to reply.
He who replies to words of doubt
Doth put the light of knowledge out.

The strongest poison ever known
Came from Caesar's laurel crown.
Nought can deform the human race
Like to the armour's iron brace.

When gold and gems adorn the plow,
To peaceful arts shall envy bow.
A riddle, or the cricket's cry,
Is to doubt a fit reply.

The emmet's inch and eagle's mile
Make lame philosophy to smile.
He who doubts from what he sees
Will ne'er believe, do what you please.

If the sun and moon should doubt,
They'd immediately go out.
To be in a passion you good may do,
But no good if a passion is in you.

The whore and gambler, by the state
Licensed, build that nation's fate.
The harlot's cry from street to street
Shall weave old England's winding-sheet.

The winner's shout, the loser's curse,
Dance before dead England's hearse.

Every night and every morn
Some to misery are born,
Every morn and every night
Some are born to sweet delight.

Some are born to sweet delight,
Some are born to endless night.

We are led to believe a lie
When we see not thro' the eye,
Which was born in a night to perish in a night,
When the soul slept in beams of light.

God appears, and God is light,
To those poor souls who dwell in night;
But does a human form display
To those who dwell in realms of day.

[Gliondrach]

Vegan Steven

There was a young vegan
Called Steven,
Who just would not kill for no reason,
This kid would not eat
No cheese or no meat
And he hated the foxhunting season.

Benjamin Zephaniah

[Gliondrach]

Billy Blake.

The Tiger.

TIGER, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?

Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

[Gliondrach]

They live in our hearts and run through our dreams:
The non-human friends who are now departed.
Of their expolits and scrapes we could write reams
About joy and love, and how we are broken hearted
That they have gone to a land of Love and Light,
And left us behind to nurse our cold grief.
But the sadness melts when we know we are right
That one day we'll all meet again - oh such a relief!

Nitram Nagev.

[Oracl]

Nice poem, Nitram. :)

[Gliondrach]

I'll tell him.

[thevegantwins]

There sat
A gnat.

[Bowwowmeow]

There sat
A gnat.
On a bamboo mat.

A blue
Gnu
Came running through.

[thevegantwins]

Chasing a fly
In the sky
Oh my!

[Gliondrach]

A dog and a hog went for a walk in a bog.
There they met a friendly frog.
'Let's go before we are cut off by the fog,'
Said the dog to the hog.
'Goodbye.' said the frog as he sat on a log.
And off went the hog and the dog at a jog.

[thevegantwins]

Can you see
in the lee
a bumblebee? :bee:

[Gliondrach]

No. Is it true
That it was seen by you
Flying through
That place with flowers blue?

[thevegantwins]

:whistle: Em, your poem does not mention any animals. Wait, I just realized that I'm the aforementioned animal.

A bear
With hair
Left his lair.

[Gliondrach]

Did he see
The little flea
That bit me
On the Knee?

[thevegantwins]

No but chick
Took a lick
Of a stick
On a brick.

[Gliondrach]

Why, oh why
Did he not die
After falling from the sky
On to earth so dry?
I can say, without a lie
That all he did was give a sigh
And then go up for another try.
Hail the brave butterfly!
Oh me, oh my
From here I spy
That he has just flown by
Brave butterfly.

[Gliondrach]

This is becoming daft.
Such silly rhymes we are making.
At some of them I have laughed.
But we should not be mickey taking.

[Gliondrach]

As no one is writing anything good I thought I would add some more daftness.

A handsome black beetle
Climbed up a steeple
To get away from all the people.

====

Nigel the dragonfly went flying by
And decided that he would try
To catch some fishy small fry.

The little fishes made a wish
That they would not become a dish
For Nigel with his wings that swish.

[Bowwowmeow]

OF JOY AND RODENTS


Who is to say that being here is not glorious even
In the most squalid of existence; even in the streets
Festering with garbage, being here is a joyous thing.

Tell the blind woman, blind since birth, that joy is non
Existent; her hyper-extended senses would tell you that
She sensed and loved the tiny feet of mice eating her cheese.

The most visible of happiness occurs when, without the
Expectation of result, something explicable happens; and
That is, the unexpected joy that Sisyphus could not imagine.

For all the rats eating our grain and causing continual
Scourges, they teach us to value life as they endure the
Hatred and interminable tortures of laboratory animals.

Our age builds an enormous citadel of power; formless as
The extensive stress it exacts on us. It no longer respects any
Temples; however, the rat teaches us the temple of survival

The whole family of rodentia is our guru; from rabbits we
Learn to spawn our progeny; from squirrels we learn to
Economize in lean times and from mice we learn humility.

Their veins flow with existence without a Bill of Rights;
What makes us think that we have more entitlements; let
Us love our rodent brothers and chew on life as they do.


-Sai Grafio-

[paul]

http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n137/paulpic_2006/bravo.gif

[Bowwowmeow]

That's one of my favorites. :smile2:

[Tails4wagging]

I get field rats in my garden eating the wild bird feed. I dont mind them. They are cute and one day one was staring at me and I said 'Hi I can see you'. Anyone hearing me, must have thought Id lost my marbles!!. :)

[my3labs]

That's a great poem BWM.

[Gliondrach]

Of all the animals in an ark -
The ones who roar, the ones who bark,
They all are equally due their right.
They shouldn't have to push and fight
To stay alive and free from fear.
Let each of us help bring near
The day when they can be free
From human greed and tyranny.

[Gliondrach]

I will let the inventor know.

[Gliondrach]

A little bird sent me this.

If I could make a wish, thought the caged bird,
I'd ask that my wish be clearly heard
By those who have influence upon this Earth.
Influence to free each fettered, caged serf.
So, I ask not just for myself to be freed
But for all who are imprisoned and who need
A life of freedom to live in their own way -
A life that is unthreatened by what humans may
Decide to do out of greed and spite.
A life that is everyone's true birthright.
Let not my wishes fall upon deaf ears.
Let not my freedom be denied by your fears
For you have nothing to fear by freeing me.
Instead, you will have my gratitude, eternally.