I was pecking at a grain
Of golden wheat
You chase behind me
I squawked and leapt but never flew
White streak across the backyard
Too slow my stubby legs
To escape, caught
And dragged into
A darkness
I cannot comprehend
But I see suddenly
And cry
Flapping desperately
Kicking your
Muscled arms
To no avail
Flapping desperately
Kicking your
Muscled arms
To no avail
Comes impending doom
I sees the swift
And heavy blade
My neck breaks
The sink a red river
Bloody and gushing
There was no pain I recall
As I watch over myself
In your arms, twitching
Bloody and gushing
A hot water tap is opened
The steam engulfs
The dingy room
The odour almost
Unbearable
The knife was not enough
You drown me now
In the scalding hot water
The ruffle of my mane
Melts away into a puddle
The coarse, white overcoat
Gives way to
Tender pink skin
You fondle it with care
Feeling every bump
There is something
Kinky about the way
You do it
As if you know
I am watching you
You clean me
Preparing me
For my funeral rites
The horror is not over
You close your eyes
Take a deep breath
Bring the heavy knife
Upon me once more
Crack my bones
Separate my good
And my bad
Categorised by others
Exactly like you
I am now
A meal
Ready-to-cook
Bite-sized
I am now
Unrecognisable
As a life, or a being
I am now
Just a price
Displayed in a supermarket
The inevitability is sad..and at times I felt it was more metaphor..if only 'us' chickens could use our wings..not our little legs..Jae
ReplyDeleteJae,
DeleteI am glad you see a metaphor. There is always something beneath the surface of the words one writes.
Wow! Superb poem, you have rightly displayed the pain of a helpless creature killed by anyone stronger . . .
ReplyDeleteKeep writing . . .
Ashwini Dey
Ashwini,
DeleteThank you very much!
OMG- I shall never eat chicken again!
ReplyDeleteLaurie,
DeleteOh dear, now that's something!
I am quite a die-hard non-vegetarian myself. That's what provoked this poem.
quite graphic all the details of de-boning a chicken and getting it ready to cook.
ReplyDeleteand in this case ignorance is bliss.LOL
ReplyDeleteHaha. I saw this happen as a child and it's always sort of stuck in my head. Not that I stopped eating chicken.
DeleteWow, I'm impressed and definitely felt for the poor chicken. Well done.
ReplyDeleteA true birds-eye view!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Kim!
DeleteDead good, was he wearing blue gloves? Some people say they're kinky!
ReplyDeleteIn my head they were yellow.
Deletethis is an amazing poem, Marita. wow, so visceral,
ReplyDeletemakes me rethink eating chicken.
Thank you so much.
DeletePoor chicken! And I like the idea of the metaphor, too!
ReplyDeleteLinda,
DeletePoor indeed! Thanks.
wow mari...that was really good...a voice for all us chickens in the world :/
ReplyDeleteThanks, Mili. :D
DeleteAnd this is one of the reasons I am mostly vegetarian again. I cannot stand the fear in animals before they are slaughtered, and most go in dreadful ways at slaughterhouses. Have to shut it out of my mind.
ReplyDeleteFabulous imagery from the chicken's point of view.
I do feel that there is no "good" way to go, though.
DeleteThanks for visiting :)
This is very good. Thankfully unless we wander into the jungle or swim in shark infested waters the tables are not turned on us. Oh we get a few nibbling pests, mosquitoes and the like but for the most part we go on living. I suppose that is why we fight each other so much, we are our own natural predator but for the eating. Like you, despite the repugnance of the slaughter, chicken is still on my menu too.
ReplyDeleteOldegg,
DeleteIt's always nice to read your comments. I like how you consider us our own natural predator.
Thanks for coming by, again. :)
Beautifully written, very subtle and yet so refreshing! Its a nice perspective that you have bought there. Keep writing!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Rupertt.
DeleteWho thought peeping a chicken would be so heinous an act! You made it sound like a humorous murder!
DeleteI don't remember the last time I heard something quite like this, it was good! So Thank you!
Its not gonna stop me from eating chicken by the way :P
DeleteHehe. It hasn't stopped me either. I just thought it would be interesting to look at it from another point of view.
DeleteGlad you liked it. :)
This is so imaginative! I would never have come up with this! Great work!
ReplyDeleteBelva,
DeleteThank you! Do visit again soon.
And that is why, we must all go green! Proud to be a vegetarian ! :)
ReplyDeleteHaha, we all have our vices, Ruhani.
DeleteA very unusual take on an 'ending' and very well written.
ReplyDeletex
Thank you Gwen. It's wonderful to see you here again!
DeleteTime to stop being the victim! Great metaphor...love the very observant soul...walk away from this "master", we can all do it!!
ReplyDeleteThanks a lot Lyn. Do come back, soon.
DeleteI was raised on a ranch and killed many a chicken in my day, (much easier than the geese and ducks, must say) and this was an intriguing, if slightly uncomfortable rendition of such a thing. Loved it completely! lol The flow is perfect and the voice at the end...while this may disturb some, I am a passionate believer in the beauty of the cycle of life. Of purpose being fufilled...and a good chicken pie is a thing of delight.
ReplyDelete*now I'm hungry...*
Chantel,
DeleteI too have seen chickens killed, which is why it was interesting to look at it from another point of view.
You are right. Chicken pie can be gorgeous.
:)
Oooh, I rarely peck my way through chicken, though that's the only meat I'd eat if given a choice...After this poem, Ill think twice..:)
ReplyDeleteJournomouse,
DeleteNice to see you here. I'm still very fond of chicken!
oh dang...great intensity in this...and vivid...scary too when looked at as a metaphor for relationships or maybe even something a bit darker...
ReplyDeleteThis was awesum! Totaly different viewpoint to think through a chicken's angle
ReplyDeleteThank God, I don't eat Chicken. Powerful writing, I must say!
ReplyDelete