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Mason Land Poem
Industrialization,
Urbanization;
Metallic sheens overtake
glossy greens
as acrid smoke
chokes the land.
All would seem lost,
but there is hope.
Vast floods drown cemented corruption,
earthquakes crumble the foundation of greed,
wildfires blaze through the gates of moral slavery.
Though she may be down,
she's not out.
Mother Nature is reclaiming her land,
and this time,
she won't be stopped.
Copyright © Mason Land | Year Posted 2006
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Mason Land Poem
Little butterfly-
Your wings beat the air senselessly,
Stirring up dust motes in the wind
As your fragile little limbs
Dangle gracefully.
Little butterfly-
You are seen as weak and helpless,
A mere thread on the tapestry of life,
Seeming, to all the world, to be perfectly harmless.
Little butterfly-
You may fool the others,
But you can't fool me.
I know that you've been hoarding things
In miniature:
Blowtorches, knives, arsenic, and the like.
Little butterfly-
I know your secret.
And you know that I know.
We will settle this one day, my friend...
But not today.
While annoying, tiny stab wounds are nothing to laugh about.
Little butterfly-
Beware.
Fear me.
For soon, I will have armed myself:
Pins, tweezers, styrofoam, chloroform, and a net.
I will have victory.
Copyright © Mason Land | Year Posted 2006
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Mason Land Poem
Night fades,
Day breaks;
Shattered pieces of Crescent Moon
fall on grass
in glittering specks.
The Sun yawns and stretches;
Too early to wake up,
I wake up.
Dawning my
fuzzy pink bathrobe
to greet the
breaking Night
and
sobering of the Sun,
I am greeted,
in turn,
by a herald of the news.
Upon a steel horse,
he glances at me,
once,
twice,
and hurls a chunk of knowledge at me.
Knowledge is power, and power hurts.
I remind myself to get a dog.
Copyright © Mason Land | Year Posted 2006
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Mason Land Poem
In the quiet recesses of the forbidden jungles,
In a place where no man or beast has ever set foot,
In a spot of brightly lit greens and dark, earthy browns,
A soul emerges.
A delicate butterfly, with wings of stained glass,
Projects an image upon the rock which it adorns.
All smiles, all laughs, birthday parties and love is found.
This is Happiness.
The ray of the sun strikes another section of the stained glass,
Producing an entirely different image:
The death of a loved one, the stress of everyday life,
The fragility of all life.
This is Despair.
This turn of events paints the butterfly as sorrowful,
And yet,
Despite the immense number of dark things tucked away
In it's bright wings,
The stained glass still shines brightly
In the high noon-day sun.
The light of a soul is, truly, a beautiful thing.
Copyright © Mason Land | Year Posted 2006
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Mason Land Poem
As I drift between the
wakings of the real world
and the dreamings of the faux pas,
my mind begins to...wander
onto things more trivial.
"Did I forget to clean the toaster?
Is the sink still on?
Was that glass resting on a coaster?"
My mind wanders on and on.
Thoughts progress more philosophically,
as I wonder,
"Is world-wide peace a viable reality?"
Visions begin to blur together, as my mind lays down to rest,
As I yawn (begrudgingly), thinking "Did I pass that Biology test?"
And of the rest?
As I drift between the wakings of the real world
and the dreamings of the faux pas,
I realize,
"It is here that I belong,
it is here that imagination is law."
Copyright © Mason Land | Year Posted 2006
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Mason Land Poem
Describe 'love' in 100 words
or less;
it's not a daunting task,
it's quite easy;
go on,
put yourself to the test
Some scientists digress,
saying that describing it is
impossible
like a human breathing water
I have swam the Mediterranean,
and navigated by way of the
twinkling starlight, the sky seeming
full of pairs of eyes that echo
my sentiments;
it's possible
Love is all relevance,
like the celebrated 'theory of relativity',
if I may:
if minutes turn to years,
and years to minutes,
while the grizzled Father Time watches in amazement,
stroking his beard in wonder -
Ah, that is love
Branching off from that general description,
it can become more specific for an individual:
a raven-haired beauty, radiating warmth and grace;
a porcelain doll of perfection, with a face
that provokes infinite reassurance and complete
understanding -
that...
that is my love
Earlier, I issued a challenge
to all of you:
describe love in 100 words or less
I addressed the fact that it could be treated as impossible,
and now I'll address the opposite
It's very easy to do so in 100 words
It's incredibly easy to do so in one word
For instance, "her".
When you can feel the blood rush to your cheeks -
When your imagination runs wild -
When your everday thoughts are invaded -
When you feel the cliched butterflies in your stomach -
When you would do anything and everything for them
in a heartbeat,
and be glad to do so -
Ah...
...that is love.
Copyright © Mason Land | Year Posted 2006
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