Animal RIGHTS POETRY

By Jenny Moxham

List of Poems


A Christmas Prayer for Animals
Animal Love?
Animal Lovers?
A Time For Love
Australian Of the Year
Autumn Grey
A Voice For the Animals
Babes To the Slaughter
Backyard Birds!
Backyard Dog
Battery Hen
Carnivore Man?
Carols By Candlelight
Carols By Fireworks
Christmas Love?
Christmas Non-Sense?
Christmas Prayer For Animals
Cows Give Us Milk
Death Ship
Doesn't Time Fly!
Don't Ever Hurt An Animal
Don't Give a Goat As a Gift
Farewell to Livestock Farming
Fireworks Show
Food For Thought
Food for Thought 2013
Freedom For Birds
Guard Dog
Happy Christmas (No more killing)
How Did We Get It Wrong?
How Would You Feel?
How Would You Like It?
I Only Saw Her For An Instant
It Just Isn't Fair
It's Only Natural
Land Of the Free?
Let Me Make a Difference
Mankind?
Man or Mouse
Meat Is Me!
Melbourne Cup
Mousey
Murdder On His Mind
Not Everyone Loves Christmas
Peace On Earth?
Personal Choice
Retarded Research
Stealing is a Crime
The Slaughterman of Bassatin
The Week Before Christmas
They Will Never Know A Spring
'Twas the Week Before Christmas
Visions of Christmas
Walk Away From Meat
What Is Baby Drinking?
World Animal Day
Would You Eat Your Dog for Christmas?

 

Australian of the Year
 

The dairy folk are up in arms 
In fact they’re in a tizz, 
‘Cos Philip’s dared to tell the truth 
And say it as it is.

He’s dared to let the public know 
The tranquil dairy scene, 
Is tragic for both cow and calf, 
An industry obscene.

He’s dared to say our water 
Is too valuable to waste, 
In growing feed for dairy cows 
For nothing more than taste.

He’s dared to speak about the great 
Environmental harm, 
That’s caused by all the methane gas 
On every dairy farm.

This man has spoken from his heart, 
He has no hidden aim, 
He cares for all on planet Earth. 
(Can farmers say the same?)

This man is honest, good and true, 
(Today that’s something rare) 
I salute you Philip Wollen! 
Australian of the Year.

 

 

 

Cows Give Us Milk
 

"Cows give us milk" how often do we hear that little phrase, 
It sounds so inoffensive, don’t you think? 
It simply wouldn’t sound as nice to say "we steal the milk 
That’s intended for a new born calf to drink".

And it wouldn’t do to say that cows are forced to have a baby,
Not one baby but a baby every year, 
For a cow, like any lady, has to have a little baby 
Or her milk supply will simply disappear.

And it wouldn’t seem so civilized to publicize the fact 
That the tiny babe is snatched away and killed, 
So the milk designed to feed him can be cleverly extracted 
Just so human folk can have their tummies filled.

So this oft repeated phrase makes the dairy people happy, 
Those who drink the milk are happy, and it seems a happy scene, 
But the cow with udder swollen, and her new born baby stolen 
Is the sad and tragic victim of this industry obscene.

 

 

How Did We Get It Wrong?
 

Do apes drink milk from zebras? 
Do monkeys suckle sows? 
Wouldn’t it look ludicrous? 
Well humans drink from cows!

 

Do any full grown animals 
Drink milk that’s meant for babies? 
Just human beings seem to think 
It’s meant for men and ladies.

 

If cow’s don’t even drink their milk 
And obviously thrive, 
Isn’t it absurd to think 
We need it to survive.

 

We’re told we need the calcium 
To make our bones grow strong, 
Yet cow’s get theirs from nice green grass, 
How did we get it wrong?

 

 

It’s Only Natural
 

Whilst driving down a country lane, 
(I thought I’d take a tour), 
I spied a couple in a field 
Side-stepping the manure.

 

The man was dressed in smart town clothes 
The woman’s silks were chic, 
So when they crawled beneath a cow, 
I stopped to take a peak.

 

It took a few contortions 
To find the right position, 
But when they grabbed the udder 
I understood their mission.

 

First the woman suckled 
Then her partner had a go. 
An indignant calf appeared 
And began to nuzzle low.

 

Shoo! Get away!’ the woman cried. 
(The milk dripped on the silk). 
‘I do believe that huge great calf 
Is trying to take our milk.’

 

She said, ‘He’s almost fully grown. 
He should be weaned by now. 
He should be eating grass instead 
Of nursing from a cow’.

 

The pair continued suckling 
Mid intermittent blows, 
But the calf appeared undaunted 
By the pounding on it’s nose.

 

‘It’s time we headed off’ said he, 
‘We’ve been here for a while’. 
‘Yes, I agree. I’ve had enough.’ 
(She gave a milky smile)

 

He crawled from underneath the cow 
And wiped his milk-stained shirt. 
She followed suit and wiped her dress 
And brushed away the dirt.

 

The calf now eager for its milk 
Was quick to take their place. 
She chortled, ‘What a sight he looks! 
With milk all down his face’.

 

‘Now back to work!’ the man exclaimed. 
‘Our tea-breaks nearly over’. 
So arm in arm they lightly side-stepped 
Back across the clover. 

 

 

 

What Is Baby Drinking?
 

‘What is baby drinking?’ 
(He’d been watching for a while). 
‘He’s drinking Mother’s milk, she answered

Sweetly with a smile.

 

‘What is milk?’ the child inquired, 
‘I’d really like to know.’ 
‘Why milk’s a special baby food 
That makes a baby grow.

 

She poured milk from a carton 
And sipped her cup of tea. 
The carton showed a picture of 
A cow beneath a tree.

 

His little brow was furrowed 
As he watched his baby brother, 
Then all at once he gave a cry 
‘That cow must be your mother!’

 

‘Oh, you’re a funny little man 
To think a cow’s my mother! 
Whatever gave you such a thought 
From watching baby brother.

 

‘I saw you drink her baby milk 
So where then is her baby? 
And why do you drink baby milk 
When you’re a full grown lady’.

 

‘The farmer killed her baby calf 
And took it’s milk’, said she. 
‘So I could have some baby milk 
To put into my tea.’

 

And as she spoke those words to him 
She realized what she’d said, 
And thought about the mother cow 
Her little babe now dead.

 

She felt the anguish of the cow 
Her baby snatched away. 
She felt the fear of the calf 
Upon that fateful day.

 

And looking down at her sweet babe 
Secure in her embrace, 
She knew the cow no more would gaze 
In her sweet baby’s face.

 

So then and there she made a vow 
To never more partake, 
In killing calves and taking milk 
That isn’t ours to take.

 

Her little child had made her see 
As clearly as could be, 
That cow’s milk is for baby calves 
And not for you and me.

 

 

A Christmas Prayer for Animals
 

As Christmas approaches, 
Dear God up above, 
Please fill every heart 
With compassion and love.


Fill all with the knowledge 
That piglets and geese, 
And turkey’s are also 
Entitled to peace.


Please let people see 
That to harm and to kill, 
Just doesn’t make sense 
At a time of goodwill.


This Christmas, dear God, 
Please answer my prayer, 
May love for all creatures 
Abound everywhere.

 

 

A Time for Love
 

If Christmas is a time for love
Can someone please explain,
Why Christmas is the time folk cause
The animals most pain.
If Christmas is a time for peace, 
Can someone tell me why,
The brutal, bloody slaughtering 
Is at an all year high.
It simply makes no sense at all 
This season is a sham,
We should be showing pigs some love
Not killing them for ham.
And turkeys, inoffensive birds,
What hell folk put them through,
For nothing but a little bit of
Flesh on which to chew.
This time of year is meant for love
So loving it should be,
This means of course our Christmas fare,
Should all be cruelty-free.
It’s farcical to pray for peace
Then serve a Christmas feast,
Consisting of some cruelly tortured,
Slaughtered bird or beast.

 

 

Carols by Candlelight
 

Carols by Candlelight,
Christmas Eve,
Voices uplifted in song,
Singing of love and peace on Earth,
Earnest, impassioned and strong.
Carols by Candlelight,
Leaves me unmoved,
Knowing those singing of peace,
Will tomorrow, most likely, be equally earnestly
Carving up turkeys and geese.

 

 

Carols By Fireworks
 

Why fireworks at Christmas?
That’s what I’d like to know.
Why turn a time of peace into 
A loud and noisy show.
A show that’s not just noisy
But that causes massive fear
To every single animal 
Who happens to be near.
We should be spreading kindness;
We should be spreading love;
Not launching noisy, terrifying
Rockets up above.
So lets get rid of fireworks
And remember Jesus’ birth,
Is a time to show goodwill and love
To EVERYONE on Earth.
 

 

Christmas Food for Thought
 

Why do Christians fail to see
The total incongruity,
Of killing turkeys, pigs and geese
To celebrate a time of peace.

It’s obviously quite absurd
To kill a poor wee beast or bird,
To celebrate the day of birth
Of one who called for Peace on Earth.

 

 

Christmas Love?
 

We’re rapidly nearing that time of the year, 
Renowned for it’s peace and goodwill and good cheer. 
But how can we say it’s a season of peace, 
The way we treat piglets and turkeys and geese.

 

We lock them in sheds where they cannot be seen, 
And sever bird’s beaks with a hot guillotine. 
We don’t care that piglets are going through hell, 
As we slice off their tails and castrate them as well.

 

We cruelly subject them to torturous lives, 
Then just before Christmas we kill them with knives. 
For nothing but taste, we abuse and we kill, 
And all at a time that is meant for goodwill.

 

If Jesus came back he’d be shocked I am sure 
To witness our cruelty to creatures galore. 
He’d surely be saddened and deeply dismayed 
To see just how far from his teachings we’d strayed.

 

 

Christmas Non-Sense?
 

Why slaughter the innocent turkey, 
At a time when we’re meant to show peace?
Why butcher the pigs at a time of goodwill,
And torture and terrify geese?

 

If we celebrate Christmas by killing,
Aren’t we turning it into a sham?
Does it really make sense to sing about peace
And then feast upon turkey and ham?

 

 

Don't Give a Goat as a Gift
 

Don't give a goat as a gift
Though some charities tell us we should,
Don't give a goat as a gift
Though we're made to believe it's "all good".

 

For goats will degrade and destroy precious land
They'll drink precious water, turn grass into sand,
They'll rapidly eat every bush that's on hand
Don't give a goat as a gift.

 

Don't give a goat to the poor
Give them plants and some tools and a bore.
These will help them to grow even more
And food for the future ensure.

 

And please think of the fate of these creatures so sweet
Who'll be milked 'til they're dry and then butchered for meat,
Empowering the poor to grow plant food to eat
Is undoubtedly better for all.

 

 

 

Happy Christmas (No more killing)

To the tune of Happy Christmas (War is over) By John Lennon

 

So this is Christmas 
Another year done, 
Have we grown any wiser 
Or simply had fun.

 

Have we tried to spread kindness 
Have we done all we can, 
To make this world better 
And not simply for man.

 

For all of Earth’s creatures 
Who live with us here, 
Like us want a peaceful 
And a happy new year.

 

So this is Christmas 
It’s come by so fast, 
Will this be a good one 
Or like those of the past.

 

Gotta stop all the killing 
Gotta learn how to care, 
For Earth’s gentle creatures 
This world’s so unfair.

 

So a very merry Christmas 
And a happy new year, 
Let’s make this a good one 
For everyone here.

 

No more killing, 
No more sorrow 
Here’s to kinder 
World tomorrow. 


May the New Year 
Be the best year 
We have ever 
Known!

 

 

Not Everyone Loves Christmas
 

Not everyone loves Christmas 
That festive time of year, 
That time we’re told is all about 
Goodwill and love and cheer. 
That time when Christians celebrate 
The Prince of Peace’s birth, 
And everyone is singing ‘bout 
The joy and peace on Earth.

 

The turkeys and the piglets 
Don’t love this time of cheer, 
For them it is the cruelest and 
Most brutal time of year, 
A time when they are mercilessly 
Massacred for meat, 
So Christian folk can serve them up 
For festive fare to eat.

 

So why is it that Christians 
Have somehow failed to see, 
That killing other beings 
For their Christmas lunch or tea, 
Is simply not in keeping 
With this season of goodwill, 
At Christmas time, a time of peace, 
We clearly should not kill.

 

 

Peace On Earth?
 

At Christmas time folk celebrate 
The Prince of Peace’s birth, 
By sending others cards that call 
For peace and love on Earth.
So isn’t it incongruous 
That having sent these wishes, 
They kill Earths’ peaceful animals 
And serve them up in dishes!

 

 

The Week Before Christmas
 

Twas the week before Christmas
And all through the shed,
Not a creature was stirring
For all were now dead.

 

Each sad, abused bird
Had been grabbed in the night,
And carried away 
In panic and fright.

 

Stuffed tightly in crates
They could scarce take a breath
As they hurtled along
To a hideous death.

 

A death so horrific 
So cruel and unreal,
It seemed like a nightmare
Bizarre and surreal.

 

Twas the week before Christmas,
And turkeys galore,
Now lifeless and headless
Were stacked in each store.

 

Folk prodded and poked them
And chose the right size,
But none gave a thought to
The birds sad demise.

 

When Christmas morn came
For peace they all prayed,
The presents were opened
And dinner was made.

 

Then they merrily feasted
On turkey and ham,
And none saw that they’d turned
This day into a sham.

 

 

‘Twas The Week Before Christmas
 

‘Twas the week before Christmas, and all through the shed
Every turkey was shaking and quaking in dread,
For up on the roof they had heard such a clatter
They were all gazing up to see what was the matter.

 

Then all of a sudden the roof opened wide
And a fat, jolly man in a sleigh came inside.
He said, "Don’t be frightened, I mean you no harm,
I bring you a gift, there’s no need for alarm."

 

The birds knew at once they had nothing to fear
But what sort of a gift could he give to bring cheer?
Their lives were so dreadful, so painful and sad,
What present could possibly make them feel glad?

 

And then he explained,"You’re all leaving today.
Your gift is your freedom. Come climb on my sleigh."
He opened some sacks and the birds climbed inside,
Then off through the roof they went. Oh what a ride!

 

Time after time he returned in his sleigh
‘Til every young bird was transported away,
They flew over mountains and flew over sea
To a beautiful place where they’d always be free.

 

And next day when the farmer threw open the door
He was shocked and amazed by the sight that he saw
Only feathers remained in that shed so immense,
Was it magic? Or ghosts? It just didn’t make sense.

 

And so pleased was old Santa with what he had done
He decided he’d make this a regular run.
The farmer? Well he was so scared of the ghosts,
That now he grows soy beans for tofu nut roasts.

 

 

Visions of Christmas
 

Christmas time

Is fast approaching,

Thoughts of Santa

Fun and toys,

Christmas trees

And decorations,

Fill the minds

Of girls and boys.

But as Christmas

Time approaches,

Sadder visions

Fill my head,

Turkeys crammed

In hellish prisons,

Christmas Day

They’ll all be dead.

 

 

 

Would You Eat Your Dog For Christmas
 

Would you eat your dog for Christmas? 
Would you carve her up with a knife? 
Then why eat the innocent turkey 
Who is just as deserving of life?

 

Would you kill your kitten for festive fare?
Would you serve her sliced on a tray? 
Then why treat the harmless and fun-loving pig 
In this heartless and horrible way?

 

If you think the idea quite shocking, 
To murder and slice up your pet, 
It is equally shameful and shocking, 
To do it to those you’ve not met.

 

For a hog treasures life just as much as a dog
And a turkey as much as a cat, 
And they all have a right to their God given life, 
It’s simply as simple as that.

 

So when you go shopping at Christmas, 
And pass by the enormous array, 
Of tragic young plastic-wrapped corpses, 
Whose lives have been taken away,

 

Make a vow that you’ll buy only ‘peaceable’ fare 
And refuse to partake in the kill, 
For I’m sure you’ll agree that’s the way it should be 
In this season of Peace and Goodwill.

 

Autumn Grey
 

It’s so heavenly in Autumn when the world is all aglow,
With russet gold and amber leaves that fall like gentle snow.
And when the ground is carpeted in brilliant Autumn gold,
It’s like a new and wondrous world too glorious to behold.

But there’s a place in Autumn where no colour’s ever seen,
Where red and gold and russet leaves have never, ever been.
A place that man invented without yellow, gold or red,
Where those who dwell within it’s walls soon wish that they were dead.

The factory farm in Autumn is a bleak and dismal grey;
Grey concrete, steel and cobwebs, each dark and gloomy day.
And every pig imprisoned here shows fear in it’s face
For the workers beat them savagely within this brutal place.

And tethered pigs have metal chains embedded in their necks,
Whilst others, locked in narrow stalls, can’t even take two steps.
And sows can barely stand because of lesions on their feet,
And stressed and panic-stricken pigs are too afraid to eat.

Inside these walls they’ll never see a gaily coloured leaf;
Instead of joy they’ll only feel an all-pervading grief;
They’ll never know the glory of a wondrous Autumn day,
Condemned, instead, to languish in a tragic world of grey.

 

 

Babes To the Slaughter
 

Why is it human grownups 
Think their own young folk should never 
Be distressed by seeing things that are 
Upsetting, cruel or gory,

 

For instance they would never 
Show them pictures of the slaughter 
Of the ones they eat for dinner, 
Yet it’s quite a different story

 

When it comes to other young ones 
Who don’t happen to be human, 
But are just as much in need of 
Loving tenderness and care,

 

Folk are happy to distress them, 
Not just simply with a picture 
Of the slaughterhouse so brutal, 
But by putting them in there.

 

The pig is but a youngster 
When he’s whisked away and murdered 
And as sensitive and frightened 
As a human son or daughter,

 

And the six week baby chicken 
Is as scared as any toddler 
When she’s strung up by her ankles 
And conveyed to brutal slaughter,

 

So it’s surely inconsistent 
To show such consideration 
For the feelings of the little ones 
We think of as our own,

 

Yet to treat with cold indifference 
All these ‘other mothers’ children 
Who are equally deserving 
And themselves are barely grown.

 

 

 

Battery Hen
 

Can you imagine how I feel 
Condemned to life within a place, 
Where I cannot ever take a step 
Because there is no space.

 

Can you imagine how I’m aching, 
How I long to flap my wings, 
I’ve swollen feet and knee joints 
And the pain debeaking brings.

 

Each day’s a living nightmare 
Of uninterrupted pain, 
For my feather-pecking cell mates 
Have already gone insane.

 

Each day seems an eternity, 
Yet one more day to dread. 
I’ve runny sores and tumours 
And I wish that I were dead.

 

And I wonder if, at breakfast, 
With my egg upon your plate, 
You ever think about me 
Or my cruel and tragic fate.

 

And when your breakfast’s over 
And you toss away my shell, 
Do you realize that the cost to me 
Was one whole day in hell?

 

 

Death Ship
 

When they sailed away from Devonport and left Australia’s shore, 
‘Twas as well the 50,000 sheep knew not what lay in store. 
The ship, the Al Messilah, was headed for Kuwait, 
Her hapless cargo destined for a cruel and gruesome fate.

 

Three weeks or more they’d spend at sea in a cramped and tiny space, 
Where many a sheep would die before they reached that foreign place. 
Three weeks in a stifling putrid pen in ammonia laden air, 
That would aggravate and blind the eyes, the pain beyond compare.

 

And when they finally reached the port and stood on land once more, 
Their joy would quickly turn to dread at the sounds and sights they saw. 
Strange men with sticks would beat them and would tie their legs together, 
And lock them in the boots of cars in searing, scorching weather.

 

And some of them would die in pens, the heat too much to stand, 
So different from the climate of their temperate southern land, 
And others sent to slaughter would be thrown down side by side, 
To await their agonizing death in terror, bound and tied.

 

Each one would see the ones ahead receive their cut of death,
Convulsing as they choked on blood and struggling for breath, 
Each one that sailed from Devonport would meet a fearsome fate, 
Each sheep upon that Ship of Death now headed for Kuwait.

 

 

Doesn’t Time Fly!
 

Doesn’t time fly!
It’s a phrase we use quite often
But for some this is a luxury unknown,
For some their lives are simply 
So distressing and depressing
That for them the time has never ever flown.

 

For the sad and hapless creatures 
Who are locked away in farm’s,
With nothing to look forward to each day,
‘Cept another day of boredom 
And severe deprivation,
Time never flies in any single way.

 

They are feeling too dejected
For the time to ever fly,
They’re bewildered, they’re frustrated, they are sad,
They’re cramped and stiff and sore
And each day they’re hurting more,
And it’s clear that some are even going mad.

 

So when next you use this phrase
Spare a thought for all these others,
For the piglets and their mothers and the broiler chicks and hens,
In a world so hard to bear,
Where a week is like a year,
As they languish and they suffer in their cages, sheds and pens.

 

 

 

How would You Like It?

 

How would you like it if right from the start, 
Right from the day of your birth, 
You were never allowed to have even one glimpse 
Of this beautiful glorious Earth.

 

Not ever a glimpse of the sun or the sky 
The grassy green meadows or trees, 
Deprived of all knowledge of beauty and colour 
Of raindrops and sweet summer breeze.

 

Well this is the wanton and cruel deprivation 
Imposed upon millions of hens, 
Imposed upon chickens in windowless warehouses 
Pigs and their piglets in pens.

 

Not permitted to know even if there’s a world 
Regardless of what shape or form, 
Outside of the cobwebby, gloomy grey prison, 
The hell into which they’ve been born.

 

But there does come a day when some do get a chance 
To get a wee glimpse of the sky, 
The dazzle of sunshine or grassy green field 
As their transport goes hurtling by.

 

The sad irony is that this day of their life, 
This day when their hearts should be filled, 
Is the day that they’re crammed into lorries and crates, 
And driven away to be killed.

 

 

I Only Saw Her For An Instant
 

I only saw her for an instant
As the cattle truck sped by 
But that fleeting brief encounter 
Was enough to make me cry.

 

What struck me was her dignity
So regal! Head held high, 
And I cried because I knew the way 
Too soon, she’d surely die.

 

She looked every inch a lady
So deserving of respect. 
The brutal bloody fate in store 
I prayed she’d not suspect.

 

She’d never harmed a living soul 
Yet hands unfit to touch her, 
Would soon transform her regal form 
And beat and bruise and clutch her.

 

For her there’d be no comfort 
As the ‘final hour’ drew near. 
No loving tender touch 
To make it easier to bear.

 

Instead she’d see the terror 
In the frantic fear-filled eyes 
Of the ones who went before her, 
Then their last blood-curdling cries.

 

What cruel unjust and callous world 
To break this gentle heart,
Eyes glazed with fear, my lovely queen 
Would soon be ripped apart.

 

 

They Will Never Know a Spring
 

As I walked along the street today

My heart began to sing

For I passed a mass of daffodils

And I felt the joy of Spring.

I marvelled at the colours

Of the blossom everywhere

And it filled my heart with joy

To see the trees no longer bare.

Then I thought of all the animals

And no more my heart could sing

And I ached for all the millions

Who will never know a Spring.

I thought of pigs in factory farms

In squalid filthy pens

And I thought of spider-ridden sheds

Stacked up with battery hens.

They’ll never feel a ray of sun,

Their hearts will never sing.

Locked away from life and beauty

They will never know a spring.

 

 

 

Animal Love

 

When folk say they love animals 
They generally mean pets, 
They seldom mean a chicken or a hog. 
When they tell you they love animals 
What they very often mean is 
They’ve a fondness for a pussy-cat or dog.

 

For they’ll fondly pet and pamper, 
A canine or a cat, 
Yet they’ll happily ignore the cruel fate, 
Of the multitude of creatures 
With distinctly farm-yard features 
‘Cos it seems they only love them on their plate.

 

 

Animal Lovers
 

‘We’re all animal lovers here’, he said, 
In a voice that was filled with pride. 
‘That guinea pig there belongs to Meg, 
And Tom’s got a lizard inside.

Young Bert’s got a couple of rats in his room, 
And there in the hutch by the house, 
Is the rabbit we bought for Joan last year, 
And Millicent’s just got a mouse.

Oh we’ve also got frogs in that jar over there 
That belong to our young one Todd. 
You’re an animal lover yourself, you say. 
No pets! How incredibly odd!’

 

 

A Voice For the Animals
To the tune of ‘The Times They Are A’Changing’ by Bob Dylan

 

We’re fighting to set all the animals free, 
To release them from bondage and man’s tyranny 
And we’ll never give up ‘til each one of them’s free 
For their pain is our pain and it’s hurting; 
And the truth must be told 
By the fearless and bold 
For the times they are a’changing.

 

There’s no-one to save them except you and me,
And we’ll never give up on them ‘til they are free. 
If it takes us a lifetime that’s how it must be, 
And truth will win out in the end; 
For justice and right 
Surely overcome might 
And the times they are a’changing.

 

And when you’re downhearted and filled with despair 
Don’t give up the fight for you’ve comrades out there, 
And together we’ll banish oppression and fear, 
And the world will be happy and free; 
And our hearts will be filled 
For no more will be killed 
Oh, the times they are a’changing.

 

So dare to have courage and dare to be strong,
And dare to tell others that murder is wrong, 
And give all that you have and give all that you can, 
And success will be ours in the dawning; 
And sorrow and pain 
Will never more reign 
For the times they are a’changing.

 

Each day of your lifetime where ‘ere you may be, 
Be a voice for the animals ‘til they are free. 
Enlighten the ignorant, make the blind see, 
And this slavery surely will end; 
And with banners unfurled 
Let us shout to the world, 
Oh, the times they are a’changing.

 

 

Backyard Birds!
 

Backyard birds!
Almost everybody has them
And I have to say it fills me with dismay,
Every time I have to go into 
Some other person’s yard,
And I see those wire cages tucked away.

 

Backyard birds!
Why do people have to have them
When they’ve every other thing for fun and leisure,
It seems so very mean to be
So generous with themselves
Yet deprive a little bird of every pleasure.

 

 

 

Backyard Dog
 

Lonely Lucy’s locked away, 
Longs for company and play. 
Locked inside a dreary run, 
‘Til her human carers come.

 

Only when their work is done, 
Will she get to have some fun. 
Sadly, then, another day, 
Like the others, locked away.

 

Was a time they’d let her roam, 
In the garden of her home. 
Passing children said hello. 
She was sad to see them go.

 

Underneath the fence she squeezed, 
Human carers were not pleased. 
Knew that she was lonely, blue, 
But they wanted one, not two.

 

Said they had no wish for two, 
Double trouble, more to do. 
So they opted for a run. 
No escaping … no more fun.

 

Built a well secured place, 
In a narrow, cheerless space, 
‘Tween the house and high brick wall.

 

Now she can’t escape at all. 
Now she sees no passers-by, 
Only sees the bricks and sky. 
Just how many share her fate, 
Hidden by a garden gate.

 

 

 

Carnivore Man?
 

We don’t have strong 
Digestive juice, 
Short gut, sharp fangs 
Or claws, 
So why do people 
Think we’re meant to 
Eat like carnivores.

 

With weaker ‘juice’ 
And lengthy gut, 
Short teeth and 
Sliding jaw, 
Man’s diet clearly 
Should be more 
Like ape and herbivore.

 

 

 

Don’t Ever Hurt an Animal
 

‘Don’t ever hurt an animal.’ 
That’s what me mom would say. 
‘Don’t ever hurt an animal 
In any single way.’

 

She’s say, ‘You’ve gotta treat them right 
‘Cos they’ve got feelin’s too. 
They want to ‘ave an ‘appy life 
The same as me and you.’

 

Some folks make out they love ‘em 
But it simply isn’t true. 
Near breaks me ‘eart to ‘ear about 
The things that some folk do.

 

Now what will Grandma get for lunch 
We’re almost at the shops; 
Some nice cold ham or leg of lamb 
Or shall we have some chops?

 

And not forgettin’ Rover, 
We’ll ‘ave to buy ‘is mince; 
And liver for Miss Tabby 
And a bone or two for Prince.

 

Oh yes, as I was sayin’ love, 
Some folks’d make you cry, 
Perhaps I’m just a softie but 
I couldn’t hurt a fly!

 

 

Farewell to Livestock Farming
 

Australia’s not a place for raising livestock, 
And so livestock farmers simply must move on. 
This country’s way too hot and dry and drought prone, 
And it’s time that farmers saw they got it wrong.

 

The handouts from the government have been many, 
To help them through their loss in times of drought, 
But with water shortage now a dire matter, 
It’s time this situation turned about.

 

For livestock farming simply squanders water, 
And our stocks are now already way too low. 
It’ rice and wheat and legumes fruit and vegies, 
That we really need the farming folk to grow.

 

‘Cos fifty to one hundred thousand litres, 
Are required for just one kilogram of meat, 
If used instead for growing grains and vegies, 
We’d have one hundred times more food to eat.

 

So governments and citizens and farmers, 
Who’ve grown accustomed to the ways of old, 
And think this land’s a place for raising livestock, 
Now need to hold a vision new and bold.

 

It’s time for all to nurture a new mindset, 
‘Cos our water problem won’t just go away. 
It’s time to say farewell to livestock farming, 
And seek new opportunity today.

 

 

 

Fireworks Show
 

In panic he leapt through 
The window that night, 
Half blinded with terror 
And frantic with fright.

 

Paws bloodied and torn 
Just one thought in his head, 
To escape from the noise 
That had filled him with dread.

 

The fire-filled sky 
He could not comprehend, 
And so wildly and blindly 
He raced round the bend.

 

And then came the headlights; 
A sickening thud, 
And he lay on the road 
In a pool of red blood.

 

There he died on the night 
That the sky split asunder, 
When the heavens exploded 
In fire and thunder.

 

How could he imagine 
How could a dog know, 
That what scared him to death 
Was a fireworks show.

 

 

Food For Thought
 

I’ve often heard it said by folk 
Who relish eating meat, 
‘The animals were put on Earth 
For human beings to eat’.

 

Well if God made them just for us, 
Explain it, if you can, 
Why they arrived one hundred million 
Years ahead of man.

 

 

Freedom For Birds
 

A tall forest tree is a cockatoo’s home 
So why must I stay in this cage all alone? 
I’m bored, sad and lonely with nothing to do, 
Each day is the same with the very same view.

 

I watch the birds soaring high over the trees
And I long to fly with them aloft on the breeze, 
Seeing new places each wondrous new day, 
Swirling and twirling in glorious play.

 

Just one week ago a stranger passed by, 
She saw me and knew that a bird longs to fly. 
She asked if you’d think about setting me free. 
You said, ‘This bird’s special’, and wouldn’t agree.

 

Well if I am special please think how I feel.
I’m not a stuffed toy, I’m alive and I’m real. 
I’m not made of stone, I have feeling’s like you. 
Life’s not just for human’s this world is mine too.

 

So now I am hoping and praying you’ll see 
That to love a thing truly you must set it free, 
For it matters not whether you’re big or you’re small, 
A life without freedom is no life at all.

 

 

Guard Dog
 

I’m a guard dog 
And I am sad, 
Can’t remember 
Ever feeling glad.

 

I’ve never known 
A kindly word, 
And a caring voice 
I’ve never heard.

 

When people pass 
I bark and run, 
I’m simply scared 
Of everyone.

 

Each night alone 
Beneath the stars, 
In a yard of junk 
And rusty cars.

 

 

 

How Would You Feel?
 

How would you feel if you reached for some lunch
And just as you happily started to munch,
A sharp metal hook that was hidden within
Got stuck in your throat and tore into your skin.

 

Then even before you could utter a cry
A tug on the hook left you dangling high.
How would you feel as you swung in the air?
Would you think it was fun? Would you think it was fair?

 

Would you think it was fun as you struggled in vain
The hook in your mouth causing ever more pain?
How would you feel as you winced and you wailed,
Tormented and tortured and firmly impaled?


How would you feel being cunningly caught, 
Like all of the fish you’ve impaled for your sport?
How would you like it if out of the blue,
Somebody, suddenly did it to you?

 

 

It Just Isn’t Fair
 

The rain falls in torrents, 
The icy winds blow, 
But the sheep in the paddock 
Have no place to go.

 

No warm barn for shelter, 
No bushes ... no trees, 
Just a bare windswept plain 
Where they shiver and freeze.

 

They’ve been robbed of their coats, 
They’ve been shaven and shorn, 
Bedraggled and cold 
The sheep huddle forlorn.

 

They’re chilled to the bone 
In the bitter cold rain. 
They’re freezing to death 
On this cold, windswept plain.

 

But folk in the city 
Share none of their woes, 
They’re decked out in wool 
From their head to their toes.

 

Wool jumpers, wool jackets 
Wool hats on their heads. 
In their homes they’ve wool carpets, 
Wool rugs on their beds.

 

‘Neath warm woollen blankets 
They blissfully sleep, 
Never giving a thought 
To the cold, forlorn sheep

 

Whose coats have been stolen 
For humans to wear. 
Oh why can’t they see 
That it just isn’t fair.

 

 

 

Land Of the Free?
 

All human cherish freedom 
As I’m sure you will agree, 
So why is it so many people 
Somehow fail to see

 

That every creature on the Earth 
Desires freedom too, 
And hates to be imprisoned 
Just as much as humans do.

 

Without a qualm or second thought 
Without regret or care, 
We cage and pen and chain the ones 
With whom the world we share.

 

We lock them up in factory farms 
In circuses and zoos, 
In science labs, aquariums 
And anything we choose.

 

In fields enclosed by wire fence 
We lock up cows and sheep, 
We lock up rabbits, birds and mice 
And other ‘pets’ we keep.

 

And then we talk about the news 
With friends who come to tea, 
And say how truly blessed we are 
To live where all are free.

 

 

Let Me Make a Difference
 

Please let me make a difference God 
Before I leave this Earth, 
I want my life to be a life 
Of true and lasting worth.

 

Please grant me time to make this world 
As perfect as I can, 
For all the dear animals 
Abused and used by man.

 

 

Mankind?
 

If you were not a human, 
You would think the word ‘mankind’, 
Was a very inappropriate description, 
Of the one who kills so many, 
Just for food or fun or fad, 
And causes them such anguish and affliction.

 

I’m sure you’d think ‘mancruel’, 
Was a far more fitting word, 
To describe the one who thinks he has the right, 
To harm and hurt all creatures, 
Who don’t possess his features, 
And can’t protest against their woeful plight.

 

 

Man Or Mouse
 

Animal tests 
Hurt people too 
‘Cos what saves them 
May well kill you.

 

Animal research is a sham 
‘Cos a mouse is not 
A little man.

 

 

Meat Is Me!
 

You’ve nothing against eating meat, you say, 
As though meat were some innocent fare, 
Like a crunchy red apple, a cabbage or bean, 
A succulent peach or a pear.

But meat’s nothing at all like a cabbage or bean 
Or a fruit that you pluck from a tree 
This ‘meat’ as you call it, has feelings like you. 
This ‘meat’, as you call it, is me!

It’s true my appearance is different from yours 
And I don’t speak the language you do, 
But inside I’m the same, I feel fear and pain 
In exactly the same way as you.

You say that some animals kill for their food, 
But they don’t know how else to survive, 
You’ve a wealth of nutritious, delicious cuisine. 
You don’t need to eat beings to thrive.

Just think how you’d like it if you were the one 
Who had been designated to die, 
Simply ‘cos somebody fancied the taste of your 
Rump or your leg or your thigh.

You’d probably scream ‘It’s unfair and unjust!’ 
And you’d make an incredible fuss, 
So why can’t you see, it’s as clear as can be, 
That’s it’s just as unfair to kill us.

 

 

 

Melbourne Cup
 

Fancy clothes, outrageous hats
Beer and champers flowing,
Bets are placed and horses raced
Melburnians are glowing.

 

For horses whipped, with bursting hearts
This race that stops a nation,
Is just another race of pain 
And heartless exploitation.

 

 

 

Mousey
 

From time to time I’ve sometimes 
Come across a little mouse, 
Who’d somehow found his way into 
My warm and cosy house.

 

I must admit I wasn’t pleased 
To see that little guest, 
That little furry animal 
That people call a pest.

 

But just the other day I saw 
A little baby mouse, 
His mum had turned my compost bin 
Into a little house.

 

Now after seeing him each day 
I realize mice are sweet, 
In fact I even love to leave 
A juicy little a treat.

 

 

Murder On His Mind
 

As the double-decker trailer 
Sped along the road hell-bent, 
How could they ever contemplate 
Mans murderous intent.

 

How could they ever dream that they 
Were headed for a place, 
More frightening than anything 
They’d ever had to face.

 

How could they ever dream 
They were about to lose their lives; 
Be violently murdered 
And cut apart with knives.

 

How could these gentle beings 
With their worried, anxious eyes, 
Imagine man had always planned 
To take their precious lives.

 

These were the thoughts that came to me 
As past my car they sped, 
And fervently I hoped they couldn’t 
Sense what lay ahead.

 

And as the truck accelerated, 
Leaving me behind, 
I prayed they hadn’t guessed 
That man had murder on his mind.

 

 

Personal Choice
 

It’s claimed eating meat 
Is a ‘personal choice’ 
But what about those that we eat? 
I’m sure that they too 
Have a ‘personal choice’ 
Not to cruelly be turned into meat.

 

Why is it we think 
That the choice is all ours, 
When others have so much to lose, 
For something as fleeting 
And fickle as taste, 
Why should it be humans who choose?

 

 

Retarded Research
 

Some folk will try to tell you that to cure our human ills,
To find a cure for cancer or to test arthritis pills, 
We need to do our testing, on mice and dogs and cats, 
And other little animals like guinea pigs and rats.

 

Well this is simply quite untrue as very soon you’ll see, 
‘Cos what is safe for them to eat could poison you and me. 
What’s poison to a human, to a goat or to a cat, 
Could be a tasty morsel to a guinea pig or rat.

 

Monkeys can eat strychnine, and guinea pigs can too, 
Yet just a small amount would cause the death of me and you. 
And belladonna’s something that’s as harmless as can be, 
If you’re a goat or rabbit, yet not for you and me.

 

Henbane is a poison to a man but not a snail, 
Tho’ digitalis helps our hearts, it may cause dog’s to fail. 
Morphine sends a man to sleep, and yet it wakes up cats, 
And aspirin, safe for humans, causes birth defects in rats.

 

Thalidomide passed all the tests, on animals galore, 
Yet caused bizarre deformities in babies by the score. 
A migraine drug called Imetrex, caused heart attack and stroke, 
And Zyban caused depression, and killed a lot of folk.

 

So clearly tests on animals, do nothing but mislead, 
They simply hinder progress which is something we don’t need. 
It’s surely time to end these tests along with all the pain, 
And forge ahead with real research, enlightened and humane.

 

 

Stealing Is A Crime
 

To steal from others is a crime, 
That’s what we always say,
But do we always live by
What we say.

 

Although we say it’s never right
To take what isn’t ours,
We steal from other creatures
Every day.

 

We steal the eggs from chickens
And we steal the wool from sheep,
We steal the milk from grieving 
Mother cows.

 

We steal the fur from foxes,
From beavers and racoons,
And we steal the baby pigs from 
Mother sows.

 

We rob the ducks of feathers
And we rob the geese of down,
We steal the honey 
Bees have stored in hives,

 

And last of all we steal the thing
All creatures treasure most,
We steal their dear and precious 
Cherished lives.

 

 

 

The Slaughtermen of Bassati
 

At Christmas time folk celebrate 
The Prince of Peace’s birth, 
By sending others cards that call 
For peace and love on Earth.
So isn’t it incongruous 
That having sent these wishes, 
They kill Earths’ peaceful animals 
And serve them up in dishes!

 

 

Walk Away From Meat
 

As I walked along the street today 
I thought it sad indeed, 
That half the world is hungry 
When there isn’t any need.

 

We’ve food for all the world and more, 
Enough for all to eat, 
But this food is being wasted 
Raising animals for meat.

 

Perhaps some folk don’t realize; 
As many others do 
That eating meat’s a wicked waste, 
And so polluting too.

 

It’s highly inefficient 
To grow crops for stock to eat 
For it takes 10 kilograms of food 
To get back one in meat.

 

Five hundred and forty million tonnes 
Of soya, maize and wheat 
Are fed each year to animals 
For Westerners to eat.

 

And much of it’s from nations 
That aren’t affluent or wealthy, 
It’s grown in countries where the folk 
Are starving and unhealthy.

 

Do you realize how much water 
Is required if you eat meat? 
One hundred thousand litres 
For each kilogram you eat!

 

So as well as wasting precious food 
You’re worsening the drought, 
And six hundred litres of methane gas 
Each day, a cow put’s out.

 

So you’re causing global warming 
And you’re causing acid rain. 
You’re destroying precious forests, 
And eroding the terrain.

 

So next time you wander down the street 
And feel the need to eat 
Remember what it costs the Earth 
And walk away from meat.

 

 

World Animal Day
 

On World Animal Day 
Spare a thought if you will, 
For the billions of beings 
Man raises to kill.

The grief-stricken pig 
In her small concrete pen, 
The sad de-beaked, feather-pecked 
Battery hen.

Chickens too crippled 
To reach food or water, 
Sheep dying on ships 
Bound for ritual slaughter.

Tail docking, mulesing, 
Branding, castration. 
Torture and pain 
With each cruel mutilation.

Have we truly the right 
To abuse and mistreat 
These creatures so gentle 
So mild and so meek?

Please show you’ve a heart 
And please show that you care, 
By going meat-free 
On this day of the year.