Luke 10h

Amidst a tenebrous hurricane of chaos,
I have hunted through the dark to find what I have lost,
And at last my path is laid out in front,
So I shall stay alert, always savoring the hunt,

I am ending my transformation as sovereign of the dark,
Arming myself with the confidence to finally make my mark,
I will help guide foreign spirits through the lurid mist,
Protecting them from horrors that most beings have thankfully missed,

I’m almost there, I don’t look back, I’ve come so very far,
Now my spirit is almost fully submerged into the Jaguar,
I move so stealthily through corners nobody can see,
I understand the chaos; no one’s ventured there but me,

I have made a choice to be the guardian of the night,
Some of you can sense me I’m the one who kills the fright,
My spots reflect the darkness, circles of a deep pitch black,
They help remind me of the things to which I’ll never go back

Licking the soles
of there
             abandoned shoes

He tasted the outside the world.

Dreams were footsteps never taken..

bp pipp 6d

A shadow all consumed in the
teeth of a smilodon, but wolves come
after, wolves always come after.

I did a few haikus based on extinct animals
SATAN'S GIRL Jul 12

Little orange octopus
that's staring at me,
your fluffiness looks comforting
but I wish you'd tell me what you see.

moonshadow66 Jul 11

The wisdom of the world

has been beaten and tied down.

The devil has gotten his freedom

His chains are now unfurled.


Put through constant abuse,

put on display

to attempt to amuse

hide the screams, hide the dismay.


Small eyes plead for help

Does anyone even care?

Listen to the yelps.

Reality is an inhumane nightmare  


“All of this is too explicit!”

The people agree.

“The pictures seem like a gimmick!”

Disregard the facts so they are not put through unease  


Far from sweet and innocent, the audience's derisive laughter is heard.

Cackling at an animal’s misfortunes, how absurd.

I modeled my protest song after James Oppenheim’s poem, “Bread and Roses”. The issue that inspired me to write this song is the recent string of pictorial evidence portraying horrific abusive events against animals, committed by Ringling Bros circus. I have a special place in my heart for animals. I am a member of both PETA and Mercy for Animals, and I have been vegan for four years now. My heart just breaks whenever I see a picture of Ringling Bros circus animals being abused. You can see into the animals’ souls through their eyes, and it looks as though they rather be dead than in “the best show on earth”. Baby elephants are ripped away from their mothers. The elephants are tied up with rope in confined concrete spaces, while trainers use ropes and electrical prods in an attempt to control the rightfully wild animals. Elephants spend their whole lives traveling in boxcars, and are abused for the slightest disobedience. Elephants even appear at shows with large scars, yet the audience still gets a kick out of the animal’s forced performance, which turns my stomach over.

Back at the sty we'll chew the fat
- discussing all the latest news
I'm reading up 'bout this and that
but mindful of my P's and Q's

(The other guys all like my take on
what gives within the world of trotters,
- what we must do to save our bacon
from all those barbeque-ing rotters!)

What! Smoke-house shares gone down the pan?
That's excellent if it is true
Sales AND production down in Spam?
By George, we'll raise a glass or two!

Invite the lad's round for a dig?
or meet them at The Laughing Pig?

Fun write for a competition
Kate Gilleo Jul 7

Calling all the creatures of the night
Waiting for the sickness, for the light-- to dim
Waiting on a whim
Born and bred
As a leader of the led
Follow the carving footsteps instead
Of those who have bled, for those who have bled
Tears of mud
Of those who have led armies over floods
Across expanses of endless red starving for blood.

He hold his head high, she lets hers sink low
Nothing feels right as he lands another blow
Writing brutality, stringing songs without waiting
Each world belating, waiting, the climber's on belay
Hoping to God-- to any god--
she doesn't fall on her face today
Never a meaning like those who want to stay
Sunshine in a dim
In a dim, shallow ray.

Fanciful daydreams of silver bells
And golden rings in a box upon the mantle place
A private two-soul Hell
Marital bliss only if right
He waits for her all night.

Abuse and agony the crystal ball it shows
But he won't see it until she's fallen too close
She won't see it until he's ripping her clothes
Crushing underfoot their sacred rose
White as snow stained crimson by blows of hatred
Kindred spirits on par with the Devil himself.

Spiraling closer and closer to his level, on the shelf
She sits, collecting dust, while in the garage he waits, collecting rust
Each wondering where their love took this turn.

Human aches await them
She is no longer a woman, she is an object of his
He is no longer a man, he is an animal, a monster.

Words by T Jul 3

I remember brown eyes
And I remember white fur
I remember the times
That I used to hold her  
Lovingly in my arms
Or petting her till she rolled over on the floor  
Hoping for more pets on her belly
So I rub her stomach and play with her arms
Expecting her to play along
She almost always did
Until she got sick
There was no more playfulness    
At times she would only lick as a sign of affection                                    
Oh, how I miss her happiness
That's why on that day you left
I understood that it was for the best
Even though it made me a mess
I had nothing less                              
Than unconditional love
For my darling, Jessie
Baby, I'll be there right with you, just wait
I'll meet you at Heaven's gate
And once again, we can play
Like we used to until that tragic day

Love is a not war
But against ourselves,

A will changing
Passion, lifter
Bone breaking
Hand scarring
Feet burning,

It has not much to do with the heart
As it slices our brain in half
And we love it
Like loony maniacs who never had a cookie in their lifetime.

july 3, 2017
1:18 p.m.
Hadiy Syakir Jun 30

Can't you see
that the fish was gasping for air?

For the sake of your lust,
wanting to have a triumphant end
to such a meaningless contest
you lure it from its world.

How could you inflicted that
on such innocent, lovely soul?
How could you treated its life
as if it is unworthy at all?
How could you even sleep
when you have wounded another soul?

Dead or alive,
you have no right
to irresponsibly acted in that way.

Ignorance, arrogance.

No regret, no guilt.


Yes, because you are all murderers!

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