indisputable... !
unwritten verses,
lost verses,
unpaired,
are children
unfertilized
that we will not generate
the same... !
Not long will it be when the grass
Be nothing more than sand.
And forests through where rivers pass
Are but a barren land.
Not long until the songs of birds
Be just a memory,
And rats that dwell under the earth,
A last breath they will breathe.
Not long before the lion's roars
Be relics of the past.
And grasslands where the gazelles roam
Turn into wastelands vast.
Beasts that hide in machines' form
Purge lands with ruthless greed.
The human monsters that lives on
Their own kin they will eat.
Crops that serve their money lust
And buildings that stand tall.
Destroy what nature's given us
Make cannibals of us all.
A world that's run by selfish swines,
Corrupt and filled with lies.
The truth they bend and intertwine
All is money in their eyes.
Death is closer than we think
If we don't try to change.
The whole world in extinction's brink
Our forests must be saved.
We should learn how to coexist
And conserve what we must.
If not, our world will fade to mist
And be engulfed in dust.
Destroy all of your greedful hate
With love for mother earth.
The future in our hand's been laid
Preventing the great dearth.
in the screen door
a small hole
corruption forms its disorderly queue
black fuzzy questions marks
walk on segmented legs
spindly limbs pry into disrepair
lay slick eggs in dabs of dirt and dross
incursions creep unnoticed
until what was clean is mixed
with the dead and decaying
some rot easily scoured
yet as time swings its metronome
small bodies are secretly grown
from the ceiling
darkly smudged miniscule things
hang
dangle
and spew
nothing gross yet to the eye
a festering unseen
miniscule excavations
where
grubby nests
will soon wiggle forth
and teem.
Mother’s love directs the child
To become gentle and mild,
Not making him ***** and wild.
Form: Diona
We, the human race
have been breeding, with to much pace
as our planet, is in such a disgrace
and now we have, real mud on our face
We think, that we can eat money
but we destroy, the bees that make honey
and take down forests, that make life sunny
for the greed of money, sending all life down the dunny
we are not the one opposed to strange love,
we live in a world of same sex weddings,
but a fish eagle’s romance with a dove,
would be a thing of tabloid news headings!
What about park bench with frog and a snake?
cuddling like teens with lips locked in a kiss?
you would perhaps say it is a mistake,
potential meal in romance with a hiss!
If animal kingdom adapted our rules,
You may see a fox in date with rabbit,
or mares trying to impress handsome mules,
or a zebra and lion co-habit!
would be politically incorrect,
to even denounce cross species romance,
species will emerge that will look suspect,
you can’t identity with single glance!
It is hard to say what lies in future,
for now animals follow the gene code,
so please let it be, not tutor nature,
or else a cobra may look like a toad!
Written 26/11/2020
to oppose human experiments at creating creatures that nature did not plan to create, causing much hardship to them in the name of science!
We keep on digging up our planet
because we keep on breeding on our granite
as our planet is been dug up for profit
but it is profit, that is destroying our planet
A crack in a wooden door.
Corruption forms its disorderly queue.
A rot easily blocked, filled
or scoured.
Yet, as time swings,
as air clasps open and closed,
as locks crust and fester
in any neglected niche;
therein will light crumble,
will bodies wriggle,
will mindless eyes
seek ways through
to you.
A farmer in my location I am
Wise and knowledgeable I innovate
Today I grow fish in calabash of beer
They are happy swimming, eating
Aquarium of beer is natural home
My fish grows fat and foolish daily
And when I harvest for meals and sale
My fingers and arms they bite not
I want all farmers to imitate me
This is a good business for our times
The fish you grow in beer aquariums
Eat and drink whatever is given
Fellow farmers, come along with me
Let us grow fish in calabashes of beer
"Hear me." that’s how it always starts. Some loud mouthed tyrant stepping on the backs of his followers, to throne the salted vigor of his speech.
"Hear me!"
"Follow me into this place, unknown maybe, but full of gifts to those willing to take it from the mouth of destiny, I assure you. The FATE that you…Yes YOU have earned with your blood, your sweat, your SACRIFICE! For you have left the bed of your woman, to fight for your country, for your KING! Do you not deserve the respite of hunger, of shelter? Have WE not earned that?”
And the crowd’s hungry stomachs tremble beneath the throe of desperate and determined screams both invoked and festered by the name they call KING; who seeks only to grip a longer whip, to reach further than the crown before him.
"Hear me!" "So I may show you the way, to freedom!”
The lash of a tongue, is sometimes much stronger than that of a whip..
for it is much more deceiving.
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.
postman delivers -
caterpillars soon
to burst into beauty
Bob’s Breeding Services
By Elton Camp
To supplement farming’s meager pay
Bob came up with a fairly easy way
It was hard for neighbors to keep a bull
Seldom used, but must keep his belly full
So Bob put his bull out for folks to hire
For the stud, they often came to enquire
One day, while Bob was gone to town
His next door neighbor came around
It was, for him, quite an awkward case
About a matter, the wife he had to face
“Tell me what it is you want,” she said
The neighbor’s face turned bright red
“It’s about him impregnating my daughter.”
Sweat dripped from his face like water
“For using the bull, fifty bucks is the fee,
The charge for that, it’s Bob you must see.”
Is as expected, to the formal and the normal experience the glue that holds my mind.
Several shoes for severed mules. March the raging fingers typing up, while re-hatching
time. Raining thoughts of being , never slowly conceding , now retrieving memories placed
a bowl of cold food. Eat the walls between them, callosities and reasons. Tell it to the
spoon , the moon is waiting on you.
Constantly, seems to fall for thee. Heroic sheets of apathy and air. Kept this captive,
shaven him, her and you. Used for being, untapped for seeing, here’s forever. Now I’ll
never criticize the definition of an often forgotten youth .
This a speech of thought , under candle light and ropes. 45 degree angle, hanging down
grasping for air. A reality breeding imagination , seeming normal just in cased in
abnormal fears. The power to suggest this, my feelings, my soul, my you. To my every
aspiration, peeling thoughts of inspiration, off my muscles, off my bones.
It’s ready for illustration, I’m bleeding with concentration. Engaging the norm, to show
the will of my truth.
An unending war caused by those who deceive,
greedy men spreading lies, sowing their seeds.
All of society left in the dark.
Governments merge and start to embark.
The greed of success is more dangerous than failure.
Let's pray it's not hopeless to change this behavior.
What could it be that creates such a hunger?
Where is the innocence we possess when we're younger?
Loss of morals inbred so all become frail.
The paranoia is spread to make us hide from ourselves.
The extinction of all that is true, I foretell.
Damning our souls to a fiery hell.