A poet. Yes with a King Charles spaniel and up-lighters.
Market stalls and wondering dick heads at chav night.
Sun a March born miracle.
Now gone split glimmer of bright light. Motorway,
Anticipation and cherish like yesterday pluss.
I see them again. Tiny sheep, furry birdies,
As one would expect as we approach crucifixion o’clock.
Barr Barr white sheep, have you any thoughts,
Or is it just my vegan ego thinking for you.
Fur on green a pleasure to see,
A feeling of cute,
As long as i forget their purpose,
The meaning of sheep.
Future dots of death in nature,
Bloody fruits, unfortunately.
I have been a vegetarian now for almost twenty years. I would never disrespect people for eating animals, however we as the human race need to make some changes to the way we eat. Earth is suffering not only because of greed and convenience but because of an unhealthy obsession or lust for meat. The Chinese’s obsession with pork, the American obsession with the burger, the British obsession with fish and chips. More forests continue to be destroyed to make way for cattle, more farmers are going out of business due to the supermarkets ridiculous buying prices and the recession hit west’s need for cheap food. It can not go on for very much longer, as this horse meat fiasco demonstrates.
A friend of mine sent me the video link below. Out of all of the clips i have seen in the past, this one seems to be the most powerful. Its exquisitely shot and displays the journey from life to consumption, and the effects that can have on the body. The film is not gory but it is disturbing, if you actually see what is happening.
I am a healthy human and i have not eaten meat, fish, eggs, milk ( apart from the odd bite of chocolate at times of desperation and peanut coatings unknowingly!!! ), cheese, (apart from one bite after at least ten years, in Burma, last new years eve) cream and other dairy products.
Systems are in place and manufactures seem happy to, ” Use every bit of the animal ” which is added into washing up liquids, soap, cosmetics, alcohol, toothpaste, pens, glue, everything, infecting so many aspects of the conscientious, vegetarian existence.
There is no need to kill these poor beasts. There is no need to farm them in totally unnatural ways on mass, no need to cull forests, no need to have a separation between cruelty and death and life killed for our pleasure. Our disgusting, superior, egotistical eating habits. You don’t eat your dogs, your parents or your friends. You greave, mourn and lay to rest.
Humans have a conscience, no? Humans love life, no? Humans love animals, no? Humans can see beyond their nose’s and ego’s and tummies, no? People who can’t see past their own greed continue to reproduce and pass this desensitized view of life on to their children. Chicken nuggets for lunch kids?
In my book life is life. All should be treated fairly. One species should not feel they have a right to murder anything else. Especially when there are other things to eat. Imagine yourself on the conveyor belt.
Granted there are thankfully many people who share my view, BUT NOT ENOUGH. Nations which were once vegetarian are now demanding more flesh. It is seen by many as middle class, privileged and good. A sign of progression. It’s putting more demands on earth, and more demands on chain.
This is a plea for help. It’s a statement continuing the argument that all life should be treated with respect. That living things should be loved and nourished and cared for. Life is life. Souls are souls. All that breathe have one.
The parasites living in my intestine are still there, still guests and still living from my body. Still inducing the diarrhea, the vomiting and the swelling of my abdomen. Controlling if i am hungry or not, tired or not, sick or not, in the bathroom or not. Tiny organisms controlling parts of my being, for sure a percentage. Diagnosis was given almost two weeks ago, antibiotics issued but i feel this tremendous guilt to take the medication for a number of reasons.
Whenever i have had unexpected guests around for dinner i have always been accommodating. I would put down and extra plate and serve smaller portions to make sure there was enough food to go around, especially when people are hungry. I like to feel like i am a good host and i like to treat my guests well. There has never been a time where i have said, ” leave my house or i will kill you ”
Being a strict vegetarian/vegan i feel all life has the right to live, hence why i don’t eat animals or animal products. I despise animal cruelty and the worlds passion for chomping on flesh. It’s just un-ethical and potentially disastrous to the planet, especially with the great choice we have in the west. I also have a great respect for Jainism. A religion that believes in non-violence and a strict vegetarian diet. Violence resulting in harmful karma, a set back if one is to achieve nirvana.
“Have you started your medication” i hear. No i have not as i am still contemplating what is right and what is wrong. My little India friends still alive in my tummy and i must make a choice when they will die…..Its all a bit much. What to do??
I am not seriously ill. Yes i have waves of sickness and sometimes smell like death, hungry early morning, vomit early evening but are these reasons to kill my little buddies, my mini, fleshy illegal immigrants, the final trace of India left inside of me. Creatures that are stopping me from overindulging, turning me off alcohol, keeping me well under nine stone and really, doing very little harm. To abort or not to abort. That is the question.
The veranda looks older than previously, like we all do apart from his beautiful wife, radiating youth and beauty, working away in the kitchen in oranges and yellows. Slight silent tinkles of aluminum suggesting that the meal isn’t far from ready. High on the wall an image of grandpa amongst the gods, remembered and revered daily by the powdery red dot in the lower center of his forehead. The first-born now walking and talking, shy but allured by my gift of a multitude of sweets and a small percussion instrument – polished coconut filled with rice on a stick. She looks like and adores her father, quite rightly so. The newest born being bathed then made up with talcum powder, holy ash and charcoal , screaming in discomfort of a white face so close to hers – our first meeting.
Then there on the right hand side of the porch, on a concrete slab my host, my brothers mother lies. “Namaste”, i say, ” A ram” but she is far from OK. She just looks deep into my eyes to the heart of my soul and beyond. Her face swollen like a cat and her body thin as old dead sticks, draped in green. No longer sitting, no longer eating, lying there dying of tuberculosis, no older than fifty-five. A women once so beautiful, so open and so feisty; a lady so elegant, so charming so kind and my friend of eleven years. Face cat-like, arms twig like on a concrete slab, covered in green, dying.
Yet the children with their new lives fill the air with smiles, with new-born fresh energy, so unaware of the concept of death. From shy to talking, to playing with mobile phones and cameras, bemused at seeing themselves on-screen, surrounded by love and fruit trees.
The most amazing meal arrives, the perfect same as always. Beetroot curry, dahl, rice, roti, papad and pickle. Waiting and tasting the glorious feast in silence, my vista being a dying lady, a friend, a happy memory in pain, being turned into the last days of her life. Smiling children as i try to taste the beets without breaking down in tears; i think the first time i have cried and eaten simultaneously. It breaks my heart. A death-bed and a dining room all in the same six feet by twelve feet space. Reality at its most real, taste at its best but sadness at its deepest. Privileged to be there but devastated to think that that is the last time she will be. Namaste i say gently as she sleeps. Goodbye to the children, goodbye to his beautiful wife and goodbye to a lady i will always remember with so much elegance, so much charm and so much love.
She died early the next morning and was burnt soon after.