Livestock Poems

A Farmer's Right Proud

     Tilling the fields ‘neath a hot blazing sun
        Removing the weeds when the rain's pouring down

     Baling the hay in the heat and humidity
        Breathe the dust of the chicken coop, abject humility

     A farmer’s right proud of his livestock and crops 
        He tends them and serves them ‘till the day that he drops

Mushrooms

They were all out standing in their field
with an ass or two and a few moose
along with a stray Canadian goose
when someone let the Appaloosas loose
not a welcome sight nor pretty view
while the moose who cud did slowly chew
the well-trained colt did not bolt
or even buck to shuck us
the goose didn't give a honk or hoot
but the asses kicked up such a ruckus
and if mushrooms you have half a mind
to seek (not the magic kind of stalk)
be aware take care of where you walk
as there by the end of the week let me remind
the field was knee-deep if not chock-a-block
with what the livestock left behind

chickens commit hara kiri

Those chickens commit harra-kiri daily said Nan
Of free-range livestock with beaks, she was not a great fan
How do they do it? Asked her cousin curious Scar
Easy; they run out in the road, in front of my car

The anti-fa-ctual irony'

We must de-industrialise i hear..By some pallid strange
Specimens; let this be clear' in order to devolve to sustain'
We must resort to mass slaughter? Oh the idiocy.' And such
Strain the cattle are creating co2.. its the stuff of creation 
And part of it.' Is that not true.? Yet still we must strive to
Mine lithium ore..Quite a destructive passtime.' To obtain
From raw.? Yet the goal is sustainable farming and such
Like ploughing with horses? And lighting candles well its
Not really that tough.' It can be done.' I'm not saying it
Can't but we'll need all the livestock.' About which some
Rant.' To do the impossible mankind ever tries.' And fads
Are ubiquitous as are callumny and lies.'

Black Shrine

This is our black shrine,
Where my father lit the lamp.
With dried dung in the cauldron,
My mother stoked the fire.
In the village, the sheepfold remains,
Where the ewes gave birth to lambs,
Their tails covered in dust,
The camels cried out for their calves.
Everything stayed far away,
When we moved to the city.
But my parents lit a flame,
So the shrine's fire won't extinguish!

I grew up learning farming,
Watering sheep, tending livestock,
Received plenty of guidance,
From the small yard I knew.
A kind mother's heart, worrying for her child,
Her "May you thrive" curses soothed my soul.
Parents are the critics of their child,
May they forgive my mistakes...
I brought them with me to the city,
Keeping the shrine's fire alive.

After turning twelve,
I cut hay with sickle and scythe.
Being the youngest in the house,
I tended the samovar's flame.
While guiding me through life, 
the youngest of the shrine,
My parents rejoiced, 
seeing I could light the fire.
In this house, like my father,
I will now be the owner.
Above me, without rest,
Stands the spirit of the black shrine!

Toothbrush Holders

Toothbrush Holders

Wouldn’t it be cool if
toothbrush holders reared 
livestock and 
crops on 
farms.

Strayed Sheep

Where is the shepherd
Who left behind his livestock
At the Lover's Seat?

The hired hand sleeps
Inattentive to the flock
The sheep go their way

They are unaware
There is danger near the cliffs
Though the grass is sweet

Where is the Shepherd
Will he retrieve his people
From the Sinner's Seat?

ribbons are memories

The fresh round-faced babe wears a teeny ribbon in her hair
Did they attach it with a bit of glue or what?
It is the only indicator she might be a she.

Little girls in Sunday school have ribbons on their socks,
Their collars, the edges of lace on their dresses
Their satin sheen shines up nicely, sprucing them a bit

Boys are not eager to get ribbons unless they are Iowa 4-H boys
Entering their livestock – lambs, calf, sow or steer in a fair
The white green and yellow ribbons do not mean much
But the blue and purple ribbons give them much to smile about

Girls are growing up, entering pageants, wearing a fat vertical ribbon
Saying Miss New Jersey, Corn Queen, or Pancake Princess
Brides dangle ribbons under their bridal bouquet
Ribbons are memories, tucked away in albums,
Brought out to admire when nostalgia prances about.

Hay Fields

Hay Fields

Harvest of ripened fodder yields
In rolls of hay littering the fields.
Golden, dried under the sun,
For livestock winter consumption;

Who still graze in rich fall pastures,
Unaware of summer’s departure,
Fattening on earth’s green grasses,
Basking in the warmth of contentment.

Crops of vegetables: corn and potatoes;
Grains of barley, oats, flax, wheat, and canola.
Combines reaping, threshing, and winnowing
With other machinery, then tilling of the soil.

Where the farmer stands proudly gazing
Upon the harvest yield of their labour.
The fallow land, soon to be covered in snow
Awaits spring planting and growth revival.

The Scenic View

falling rain, droplet by droplet
pane pain pane
sipping on leaves
fall falling
failing to see

leaves livestock
lumbering, conceited
between the pages
their veins throbbing
as a moppet scribbles

over their bones
with primary colors
heavy-fisted, fat crayons
that melt

into the whirligig
cheek flames
and bright eyes
follow the track

jump into the raked
leaves piled high
aww, rains leaking
inside…pane…pain

child leaves it all behind
the grown kid rounds
Louisiana, not impressed
until Autumn leaves

remind and reminisce
stopping the automobile
in real time…real smooth
New Orleans beckons

but the scenic view
having said, howdy-do
is left behind with the pain
of slippery rain

Country Life

Country life is simple, 
Spacious and organic
Simple life is healthy life
Imagine natural beauty 
Where you settle and established 
Your family life and your future
Living the country is living with nature 
Imagine your house in the midst of a valley
Beneath the foothill of a mountain 
Near besides an all year round river
And grassy land for animal greasing
And access country village road 
See, everything is accessible in your sight
The river where you can fish, bathe and laundry 
The meadows, where you can raise livestock 
The forest, where you can have wood and fresh air
The village country road, if you have a Hammer 
Accessible to town for school, life and groceries 
This country life is for good for retirement 
This country life is for nature and humanity.

The Remaking Of America

The Remaking Of America
Written: by Miracle Man
6/21/2024

Each sunrise brings with it more horrid tidings,
America is now experiencing grievous change.
Seems no day passes without some rape or killing,
like livestock, illegals rush in to graze free range.

Many bring dissenting views and stated demands,
they wave their flags holding fast to former ways.
Some elected officials promote this way of thinking,
some stand around disoriented, frozen in a daze.

Many think it’s all a part of some grand scheme,
and time may come when only Government has a say.
We’re seeing the land we love destroyed from within,
the only hope we have is for Christians to pray.



One change that I notice most every day,
my freedoms are slowly being taken away.
But though they take all I have to give,
it’s the very best place on earth to live.
Tom

What I miss

Tuesday sale barn drives 
checking out livestock auction 
fudge ripple ice cream

Song of The Golden Shower No 2: ABBA

Nature goes on living with the ... neglects,
sprung the lands that I would say, Namaste,
stretched from lands that were Siam to Malay,
Golden Shower Tree spreads out its respects.
Stately endurance breadth branches outward,
it's somewhat outstanding ornamental,
from the tropics to the subtropical,
nicknamed the pudding piped purging showered.
Early part of the year sprays will flower,
and carpenter bees are pollinators.
People eat flowers, livestock leaf-eaters,
green leaves that yellow flowers will cover.
Medicinal and herbal properties,
Opulent indulgence amenities.

Song of The Red Wolf No 8: ABAB

Chinese medicine, thus hope is reduced,
albeit, it doesn't apply to Red Wolf.
Canis rufus, a deep southerner roost,
with southern hospitality, aloof,
unlike others of their kind. Family
oriented, bone structure limits brain
size ... small, seventy-five pounds ... tactfully,
per agility, standard weight. Ingrain
habits, eventually, were for naught
as they became extinct in the wild, when
local ranchers had mauls on their livestock,
they were rounded-up and confined. It's been
during World War II days. They've been restored,
it's back to the wilds, for the unexplored.

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