Save Animals Save Ourselves

Gorilla Imagination

the ultimate used his creativity,
and planned for a huge diversity,
tiger, lion, parrot, carrot everyone else,
from every nationality,
we are sanctity,
if you have humanity,
you don’t hope yourselves as vanity.
we are one among in you,
but you made us few.
you will flourish,
if you save us.
you will perish,
if you pave us.
we roar to all his creativity,
to have a little humanity.
to save, not pave.
we buzz to help us,
rather you fuss.
we all fall in pathos,
save us and have kudos.
enshrine, not destroy,
all world can heal,
let us plant tree and leave them free.
almighty created all of us,
let them also take a chance to live
killing animals should not be a fun
so let all put our hands together to shun

by masarapu navyasree

Bandit of My Heart

Oh, Bandit, what’s your impish task
While sporting, sly, that little mask?

You seem quite innocent and frail
Yet the kitchen tells a different tale

Floor all messy, the counters, too
Paw prints that led straight to you

But while I had a penance planned
You’re far too sweet to reprimand

Looking slumberous in your slouch
Reclining leisurely upon the couch

Soon you’ll close those kitty eyes
And off you’ll scamper to fantasize

Such fuzzy mitts you’ll fuzzily flail
While prizing creatures, (and your tail)

I can’t help query what you’ll scheme
While making mischief in your dream

Though doubts, have I, it can’t outdo
The pranks you pull while being You

But antics granted, here you’ll stay
Because I’d have you no other way

So while you’re “Plunder-On-All-Fours”
You’ve plundered, too, this heart..

That’s yours

by Gregory R Barden

7 Facts you may not know about dogs

7 Facts you may not know about dogs

1) Dogs form their tongue into a cup when drinking

2) The spike collar was designed to protect dogs from wolves

3) Dogs can see in color

4) Dogs can smell disease

5) Dogs dream too!

6) Dogs have three eyelids

7) Dogs only sweat through their feet

A Dog Has Died – Poem by Pablo Neruda
My dog has died.
I buried him in the garden
next to a rusted old machine.

Some day I’ll join him right there,
but now he’s gone with his shaggy coat,
his bad manners and his cold nose,
and I, the materialist, who never believed
in any promised heaven in the sky
for any human being,
I believe in a heaven I’ll never enter.
Yes, I believe in a heaven for all dogdom
where my dog waits for my arrival
waving his fan-like tail in friendship.

Ai, I’ll not speak of sadness here on earth,
of having lost a companion
who was never servile.
His friendship for me, like that of a porcupine
withholding its authority,
was the friendship of a star, aloof,
with no more intimacy than was called for,
with no exaggerations:
he never climbed all over my clothes
filling me full of his hair or his mange,
he never rubbed up against my knee
like other dogs obsessed with sex.

No, my dog used to gaze at me,
paying me the attention I need,
the attention required
to make a vain person like me understand
that, being a dog, he was wasting time,
but, with those eyes so much purer than mine,
he’d keep on gazing at me
with a look that reserved for me alone
all his sweet and shaggy life,
always near me, never troubling me,
and asking nothing.

Ai, how many times have I envied his tail
as we walked together on the shores of the sea
in the lonely winter of Isla Negra
where the wintering birds filled the sky
and my hairy dog was jumping about
full of the voltage of the sea’s movement:
my wandering dog, sniffing away
with his golden tail held high,
face to face with the ocean’s spray.

Joyful, joyful, joyful,
as only dogs know how to be happy
with only the autonomy
of their shameless spirit.

There are no good-byes for my dog who has died,
and we don’t now and never did lie to each other.

So now he’s gone and I buried him,
and that’s all there is to it.

Translated, from the Spanish, by Alfred Yankauer