Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Kawsu Sanneh Mar 26
When I First Encountered with The Devil
There the weakest warriors wrathly
Flee from the farthest toes of a naughty evil
Even the roaring of a Lion wouldn't keep him healthy
Where trees dance, where the waiving hands of grass
Will be so frail to desist trampling, Where men ****
Grisly! When actually there a million of deathless Dalais
At abundance! But when invincible souls landed, Hey! Hope soar
That inevitable quest of callous chaos were quashed
That retro of hatred threat becomes clearly claptrap
That war wallows with forces that were waffled
For death! I survived those inanimate vap
From there, if for anyone knows but sonnets
They shall forever flows without dements
Kawsu Sanneh Mar 26
Worthless life let me to rest
Lost in faith, Thy gothic Soul lured
For they the Regretted filthy blissed of priest
For that, shall unending poverty be cured?

The grimy monster gnaw, as mind been pawn
Death reminds, the lovely once demise,
Why wouldn't you change?, are you a prawn
Sins swallow righteous deed, the evil stands and rise

Grave for the Deaths at brisk
Indeed Death shall continue to frisk
Alert! Destiny to final destination
Alert! Amnesty of resurrection

Crippling deeds swing in pain
Occults of evil were spiritually tass
Wretchedly bore life is at hunt
Running from the gossiping ghasts of Satan

As those deity faith overwhelms
The cherished sprit of evil is at mirth
But Innocent souls fly at frith
But for all shall they resist those claims

Nja
Kawsu Sanneh Mar 26
Tell them, let them to vanish
I mean those cruel vampires
I am referring to them, the crisps,
The evils to our lyrics to perish

Free us, free us from your satanic shores
Let us life, let us be happy but not sores
Let streams flows through our pores
Let our dreams be fulfil at the highest scores

Let those Vampires vanish from our government
From their unruly atitude, where all flaws farment
Where their deathly games begins. Where corruption
wine and wallows within our administration

Refer them to the scribbling scripts of the land
Lay it, Spread it, Open it and read it before them
Even if they resist, Do not desists to grab them
Led them to the truth. Tell them that change, we demand.

What did they wants from us, which they not been
Awarded. When they hoared loudly for votes
We gave them. We paid them through taxes. We have seen
Them brutally burning our fleets of vehicles.

We shall never needs "rocket scientist" to led us
And we don't sense of elegance. Where humours
Hide with hedonic faith. Where they thought we are
Sleeping. Until I task champion to read us "Sleep no more"

From an enigmatic society, where our soul have bee laid
To survive. We shall never slacken our ink. We have paid
Them as servants. How could we surrender our armour
When our only blood vessels were been torn in every hour.

Until then we will never relax to advocate
We can't fold flawless flanges to suffocate
We stand for change. An immediate change
Where we shall all sleep in pleasant peace
Kawsu Sanneh Mar 25
Tell them, let them to vanish
I mean those cruel vampires
I am referring to them, the crisps,
The evils to our lyrics to perish

Free us, free us from your satanic shores
Let us life, let us be happy but not sores
Let streams flows through our pores
Let our dreams be fulfil at the highest scores

Let those Vampires vanish from our government
From their unruly atitude, where all flaws farment
Where their deathly games begins. Where corruption
wine and wallows within ouradministration

Refer them to the scribbling scripts of the land
Lay it, Spread it, Open it and read it before them
Even if they resist, Do not desists to grab them
Let them to the truth. Tell that change we demand.

What did they wants from us, which they not been
Awarded. When they hoared loudly for votes
We gave them. We paid them through taxes. We have seen
Them brutally burning our fleets of vehicles.

We shall never needs "rocket scientist" to led us
And we don't sense of elegance. Where humours
Hide with hedonic faith. Where they thought we are
Sleeping. Until I task champion to read us "Sleep no more"

From an enigmatic society, where our soul have bee laid
To survive. We shall never slacken our ink. We have paid
Them as servants. How could we surrender our armour
When our only blood vessels were been torn in every hour.

Until then we will never relax to advocate
We can't fold flawless flanges to suffocate
We stand for change. An immediate change
Where we shall all sleep in pleasant peace
Me levanta a las 4 a.m.
Cada día cuidando
Las vacas de mi hermano

Es trabajo si pero es
Más de eso para mí
Me llamen loco pero me hablan

Las vacas me dicen cosas
Que nunca jamás
He podido conocer como humano

Solo y por eso no me puedo
Jalarme de aquí estoy
Clavado a Coronado con las vacas
Del
Oro
...
Oro
Para
Ti
...
Si
Ora
Para
Mi
There stands the Idol on the Square,
Glistening in its glazed, gold splendor and so-called glory.
Its sun does not shine on it because it is important,
The sun shines on it because the Idol is simply there, simply there to bask in it all.
But then come the first tribe of people who walk into the empty square,
Who walk into the Idol’s city looking for company.
All they see is the Idol, a figure firm and masculine
Yet it is also lean and feminine.
All who see the Idol’s seductive stare,
With its crafted eyes gazing like a graceful serpent’s eyes
Believe the Idol to be holy
As it glistens in its glazed, gold splendor and so-called glory.

The first tribe looks above, hungry and hopeful.
They sit down in front of the idol, as they are taken by its chiseled, serpentine form.
Then the second tribe comes in and notices the first tribe eyeing the Idol.
The Idol eyes the newfound fans flocking by the handful.
The second tribe sits down to gather around the Idol and forget their long journey
To wherever they were supposed to be or whatever they were supposed to do.
Then tribe after tribe leers in line and take their time from the wilderness
To bask in the Idol’s wisdom of wasting without worrying,
As it glistens in its glazed, golden splendor and so-called glory.

The tribe members sit around the Idol, looking up and demanding peace
From treading arid deserts,
Walking through moist, flesh melting jungles,
And venturing through bone biting arctic winds
And forgetting the larger presence around them
That lead these folk to the danger of this place
And what would lead them away from the Idol.

The tribe members dance around the Idol.
They blend their blistering, bruised bodies close to the Idol’s golden platform,
Against each other in a violent **** of screams, moans, and demands for where they are
In their mortal life and for the realm beyond the weary bone and flesh they inhabited.
They ask constantly of what they can do for the Idol,
All while forgetting about a larger purpose of their own god
And why they were walking around in the wilds in the first place.
Instead, they are entranced by the Idol’s mute music
That rings in their heads, which screams from the closed mouth of the Idol
In its glazed, golden splendor and so-called glory

The shriveling tribes bow down to the Idol’s grace without individual care
with their rib cages poking out and their mouths dry with drought.
In their weakness, the tribes goad the Idol
To perform a miracle of strength like or more than their own god,
Or even more than each tribe member can do.
Yet their minds are sinking into a haze of ash
From the fire they burn around the Idol to hopefully bring it to full life
And their skin is black and charred from pouring all the goods and money
Into the ring of fire surrounding the Idol
They give their nourishment to a being built on the basis of needing no sustenance
Except its own and the lives it is stealing from the people around it.

The tribes holler and howl for the Idol to answer their wishes for a safer haven
Than the barren one they are frivolously wasting in now.
They desecrate their individuality with conformist chants used to glorify their god
But instead are used to glorify the Idol with ragged throats.
The Idol still stands, blind, deaf ,and mute
To the tribes’ kisses,
To the tribe’s prayers,
And to the tribes’ outstretched arms grasping for salvation.
The Idol basks in the tribes’ ignorance yet ignores their ignorance
In its glazed, glistening, so-called glory.

The Idol on the Square
Stands in a pool of starved and dying bodies
Still pleading in weathered whispers,
And still gripping the Idol’s platform with bony fingers.
All these tribes, all these offerings to the vultures
Perching on the tops of buildings, on the lamp posts, and on the city gutters.
They were once followers of their own god,
And of their own destinies,
But they are now the followers of the Idol,
The Idol of Death,
The Idol of Damnation,
The Idol of Starvation,
And the Idol of Lamentation.

They are followers of the Idol on the Square
In its glazed, glistening, so-called glory.
Ju Clear Nov 2016
Our Farmer is different
He wants to change how things have been done
To make our world kinder to the slaved millkers
Some say radical,even risky

Our Farmer wants change
He wants to be kinder to the cow
Just milk once a day
Let cow and calf stay together


Our Farmer is being kinder to his herd
Giving kudos
To his products
Come full circle make cheese again

Our Farmer can see the future
No milk for the processors
Just milk for calf  little extra for cheese
Organic is the ethos

Our Farmer is making change
Making a Kinder world
We're produce is Kind
Animal welfare is high

Our farmer is being the kindness he wants to see in the world
                                       KINDNESS Rules
Inspired by a hard working farmer that is changing how things have been done
Äŧül Jun 2016
Oh now here she comes in hot pursuit,
Unaware of her presence just behind me,
She surprises me as I feel wet on my hand.

She is on all four limbs of hers,
Under my left hand she sneaks,
Oh she starts licking it hungrily.

Moving in the calf section,
I feel really close to heaven,
For every calf here is so cute.
I am loving this summer training after my 1st year of Master of Technology course in Animal Biotechnology has gotten over.

We are assigned in groups of 5-6 people each to a different group of animals.

My HP Poem #1091
©Atul Kaushal
Paul Butters Jan 2016
A newborn calf totters on shaky legs
Trying to balance and focus all at once.
Then seconds after birth a big cat pounces
With searing jaws.
The calf’s whole experience of life
Captured on film.

Paul Butters
Something I saw on TV way back.
Next page