January 7, 2014 
the dawn stipples blackness
edging yellow
filming my eyes—
another hopeless day of agony…begun.
lacerations on my pink skin
crusted orange
growing over
and around
the rusted
bars of my gestation crate,
metal that bites deep into red sinews that would resist if they could but
i
can’t
even
turn
around
for a moment’s relief before bleeding out into pork chops.
mmmm…pork chops.
Not even once
i
can’t
ever
know
my babies from the constant forced pregnancies
Not even one
since my babies are bacon.
mmmmm….bacon.
Brand new life smashed into concrete walls like tetherballs
except tetherballs don’t bleed
love
& think.
i hear their agonized cries, breaking teeth to chew madly on prison bars
dying a death more cruel than death, and–
i
don’t
even
know
green comes in hues other than infection,
until a sledgehammer beans me into the blue
not the first time, though.
he
hits kicks and cuts me
again
and
and
again
and
again (remembering that son of a bitch that cut him off in traffic)
my vision clouding in a new sort of violent violet pain
underscored by brutish laughter
(and score of last night’s game)
and I cross the Rainbow Bridge—
to find
death sweeter than dawn.
©Karen Robiscoe
Charron's Chatter 
Outstanding. Painful. Honest.
Wow…just, wow.
there are important aspects I left out–the mental duress, mainly. The ear bobbing, and tail mutilation, of course, too…I will prolly rework it sometime. It bothers me…this poem…but sorrowing for their constant suffering is the least I can do–it’s such a travesty that never stops for them; I aim to do something about it in my lifetime.
It’s just terrible it isn’t more widely disseminated–and that’s at least a start to the difference we have to make. As well you know, Crier.
Thanks for your comment, Reb.
I held a piglet a few weeks ago at a local event…there was such an alertness that I know beyond all doubt these poor animals are aware of every ounce of horror we put them through. I had not even considered the other stresses and abuse like the bobbing…the confinement alone is enough to make any living being painfully insane.
On this count I think the native cultures had it right – dignity is essential to both the life-giver and life-taker. Our society has forgotten that so yes, yes…more Criers, more waker-uppers like you are needed!!
Poor creatures
uh huh. And just as deserving of a peaceful life as any of us. Just because they can’t talk, doesn’t make that less so.
it bugs deeply. it is a cause to champion.
Very true. It is unfair. You can see the sorrow on that creatures face
so awful! pigs are so intelligent. very glad you posted this! cheers to you~
The Rainbow Bridge is salvation for these terribly mistreated souls. Thanks for commenting, Cindy.
Such emotion stirs when I read your work and I don’t know what to call it!
Reblogged this on Charron's Chatter and commented:
I wrote this in response to a prompt stipulating one uses all the colors of the rainbow–and included the agony color. I reblog this to remind gentle folk out there, that meat was first LIFE…
Very painful made me cry!! Humans are so horrible :,(
Reblogged this on Kaytee and commented:
Unsaid, Untold, Unattended Pain
honey, thank you for your kind, huge heart. It IS so painful–and abominable–we must speak for them, we must shock people into awareness. Bless you in all you do.