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Why the sudden alarm I ask?
Because you've eaten a horses ***
For years we've eaten all kinds of meat
Mixed with things you find in paint
A list of E numbers a sentence long
Who knew if they where doing wrong
Colouring from crushed beetles shells
Or other insects as well
Artificial raspberry sounds yum yum
Yeah it's made from beavers ***!
So here's a tip to help you shop
Look under the bar code at numbers lots
This may stop you getting cross
If it starts with 5 sling it out !
Its Asian chicken bleached and vile
From roadside **** or any source
boiled in salt of course
So we now protest at a bit of horse
Years to late we've eaten worse.
On holiday you eat bulls *****
Your hotdogs could be his other smalls!
Sweetbreads eyeballs hooves the lot
So diced, reclaimed or added in
You've no idea what's gone in
Mad cow mad horse or confused pig
I wonder if I've eaten each
The veggie options just as bad
With GM foods Monsanto's bag
MSG enhancers to to stop the food from tasting goo
So wine or beer for me tonight
As foods now a depressing sight

Bacon butty anyone?
I wonder how they dug the graves
and shoveled in their young.
When grass was your last supper
your reserves are clearly done.
My forebears wouldn't" take the soup",
they wouldn't sell their souls.
So perhaps determination, then,
gave them strength to dig those holes.
To starve in the midst of plenty
was the saddest sight on earth,
but to their London Landlords
Irish serfs held little worth.
It's known that a potato blight
was the famines primal cause,
but I still blame beef eating men
and the cold uncaring laws.
A poem about the Potato famine in Ireland circa 1848
Change is in the air,
I can feel it in my bones
Moving homes
Things coming clear
I see who my true friends are
And I see where I belong
Who truly does care
And I will not let my insecurity tell me differently.
Im beginning to better myself.
 Feb 2013 Mike Winegar
Tatiana
I feel it mounting,
slowly, steadily building,
every little thing adds to the heat,
I feel,
that slowly rises,
to my head,
creating an ever growing red mist,
that clouds my vision.
That mist is hard to clear away,
once it comes,
and luckily I rarely see it,
but when it's there,
my rage becomes,
uncontrolled.
My fuse is long,
but once it's lit,
it can not be stopped,
i'm like a ticking time bomb,
ready to explode,
at any given moment,
and when I do explode,
I cause an impressive amount,
of damage.
But now I know I will explode soon,
I can feel the adrenaline,
rush through my veins,
and my blood,
roaring in my ears,
my body is shaking with
the anticipation,
of finally letting go,
of my anger,
and releasing all of my stress,
and feelings,
so I can start fresh again,
but until that happens,
my anger will be,
uncontrolled,
and never stopped,
until I can calm myself down.
I am not exactly the nicest person when I get angry, and I find it really hard to hold back the physical response of violence I want to give, and instead I just use my words, which my end up hurting more than any physical blows I may have given...
 Feb 2013 Mike Winegar
Marian
Sunsets are red, the sky is blue,
Oranges are sweet and so are you!

*~Marian~
I wrote this for my cat, Sylvestro. I caught him myself and brought him inside to live with us sometime last year.
There is snow on the ground,
And the valleys are cold,
And a midnight profound
Blackly squats o'er the wold;
But a light on the hilltops half-seen hints of feastings un-hallowed and old.

There is death in the clouds,
There is fear in the night,
For the dead in their shrouds
Hail the sin's turning flight.
And chant wild in the woods as they dance round a Yule- altar fungous and white.

To no gale of Earth's kind
Sways the forest of oak,
Where the sick boughs entwined
By mad mistletoes choke,
For these pow'rs are the pow'rs of the dark, from the graves of the lost Druid-folk.
 Feb 2013 Mike Winegar
flynt
When I was young
I would close my eyes and hum.
Hum away the pain.
Where were you when it rained?
I lie coiled up on the ground
wishing to be a pretty leaf on a tree.
Only to grow old and fall down.
whatever, bad poem, always, ugh
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