One More Cow, One More Sow
Another acre cultivated
By a shining plough
The farmer’s son takes off his hat
Wiping the sweat from his brow
Their productive loans are being called in
Lives changed at the financier’s whim
To survive, they’ll work for life and limb
Yet their malnourished bones are wearing thin
The processor purchases milk below cost
And no buyers for our fields of maize
It looks like all hope is now lost
It seems, rarely these days
That honest work ever pays
One More Cow, One More Sow
We are coming closer, acre by acre
Until we use our Starry Plough
Let’s grow a harvest from the soil
And struggle living from our toil
thresh the grain of honeyed hue....feed faint
barren hungry of the nations
“Dammit,” he cried
“I’ll never get you clean”
For what he had seen
Was nothing but mean
“Come on over, now, here’s your feed”
As the pony ran over
With a great deal of speed
Her leg limped
Over a hard patch of ground
That was by no means good
At least the rest were sound
She was covered in dirt
From head to toe
She rolled in the soiled grass
All that mud was a foe
The majestic white coat
Hid deep underneath
The only thing bright
Was her freshly cleaned teeth
The show is tomorrow
And there’s no time for fun
“My Connemara filly,
What on earth have you done?”
when you see an African
kind leader carrying a hoe ,
the ground will be soften
and vomiting foods for people.
October 03/2023
At harvest time
Where a white ghost flies
Across a blood red moon
Behind the fields the rolling hills
Are purple, pink and blue
Over a dreaming wheat field
A barn owl patrols
Noiselessly it glides
Over the golden yellow drifts
Suddenly, it flaps its wings
And stares down intently
Below on the soil a startled vole
Sees a white star fall
A squeak and the owl is gone
And with it the limp vole.
For braving that stunning heap
You’re headed for a big reap
And have made a giant leap:
Into earth digging deep,
So that families won’t weep
Or hunger-driven to sleep,
Every wrought bulging heap…
A cause to into kitchens leap
And at same oiled yam beep:
A farmer feeding the rest
But-alas!- denying self rest.
Their soil they no longer till,
As they couldn’t eat their fill
From a hopeful food storage
Of last year’s superb courage.
Now, they ‘re hoping on a job
That their kinfolks dreamily mob;
A much-money-spinning job
That hands for farmwork rob
And has already grabbed their Bob…
Some restlessness in a giant mill
At the foot of a sacred hill
That workers don’t permit to be still
Nor Bob allow to take his pill
Through wearisome work blood spill
Though it would take not Bob’s will…
Rightly, an Agriculture-Cheating Job
Paying enough one can’t snob.
Malayan Tigers are listed as, critically endangered
and they used to be known, as Indochinese Tigers
They live is in the Malay Peninsula, of Thailand
in their habitat of forests, grasslands and wetlands
They have threats of poaching, for the illegal black markets
as China will not put ban, on the use of tiger parts
and deforestation for development, for the human ferrets
to construct roads, logging and agriculture, just breaks many hearts
Habitat destruction, has forced tigers into human territory
and there have been many Tiger killings, with human dissention
and tigers kill humans and livestock, because they are predatory
as their lives are desperate, to not end up with extinction
Cross River Gorillas, are critically endangered
because humans have encroached, on their land
They share ninety eight percent, of our human DNA
but there are some humans, who want them for pay
Gorillas function, with a developed social structure
and are led by adult males, known as silverbacks
They have a vegetarian diet, for their life of culture
spreading the seeds of nature, while eating their snacks
Cross River Gorillas, have grown wary of humans
as they like to encroach, into their rugged territory
They take down forests, for livestock and timber
and plant agriculture, for humans to eat their dinner
These Gorillas are scattered, through lands of forests
with a number of groups, that number about forty
They are not our enemy, in these amazing forests
so we must not encroach, by becoming a cockroach
The god of this world is not wholly
Wholly good or wholly evil.
He does his best to avoid extremes.
With his cornucopia he feeds the paying multitudes
While the rest discreetly hunger. He nourishes,
Admixing with good food insignificant,
That is – as far as we can tell - insignificant
Doses of toxin. We must say grace mindful
That slightly poisoned food is better than none, and
“In the long run,” as one archdeacon of economics said:
“Who cares,?“ We’ll all be dead.”
Progress was not made for man, but man
Was made to serve progress. “What progress?” you ask.
Ah, the answer to that is far, far, above us,
Filed away on the fiftieth storey.
By the way, don’t get too worried
About that radioactive leak!
An expert has assured us we need expect
Only a couple of extra cancer cases at most.
And besides, don’t rock the boat
No the god of this world is not holy.
I TURN MOST POOR NATIONS TO RICH NATIONS.THE SECRET TO ERADICATE HUNGER ,POVERTY,MALNUTRITION.THE BACK BONE TO MOST ECONOMIES OF GREAT NATIONS.YES SOME CALL ME THEIR SPINAL CORD .TAKE ME AS A PROFESSION,HUNGER WILL BE GONE FOREVER.USE LESS CHEMICALS,KEEP ME ORGANIC.I WILL MAKE YOU RICH.