Long Asbestos Poems
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Perceptions of a ragged space,
all that was left by the human race,
there's not a lot left to see at all,
as their carelessness was seldom small.
Let's dig around
in that frazzled ground,
for that's where there's bound to be,
some signs of dodgy chemistry
or maybe just a little radiation,
the sort that killed another nation,
though they said it wasn't bad at all,
any effects would be so very small,
just as asbestos would never embroil
us in disease, nor would a little spilt oil.
But profit ruled the minds of men,
the bosses say do this thing and then,
you'll have enough to pay the rent,
but wouldn't as it was always spent
on a merry night out with the boys,
long before those electric toys
just sinking pints to rinse the dust,
before staggering home all filled with lust,
Then some had coal with a price too pay,
only if they 'bought it', down the pit one day,
other times they might just cough it out,
smuggled home in their lungs no doubt,
or maybe they were lost out in the wild sea
aiming to catch that fishy for the rich folks tea,
others were mangled up in the cotton mill wheels,
where safety guards didn't hide belts and reels..
And ever as man moved to make it safer than before,
some new peril would be found to drop men onto the floor
be it from a toxic gas or perhaps a mercury leak,
what did it matter while some profit they'd seek,
the waste might well taint the rivers and poison all
the fish they ate and so keep their children small,
small and weedy with some horrendous rash
while the air was grey with muck and ash.
I could go on for many a verse,
but I've no wish to be perverse,
for by now the penny will have dropped
for those whose brains have not been shot,
by additives to make processed food have taste
or keep it 'fresh' longer so as not to waste,
any scraps of reclaimed muck and gristle,
oh dear, now I've gone and blown the whistle.
And thats before I even mention the Taiji men
who slaughter dolphins by the thousands and then
sell their flesh with labels as if another meat,
what is it that Japan now consumes for a treat,
I wonder do they ever know for sure,
what it is they bring in through their doors
and so the follies still go on and on
do you wonder why I feel so strong?
©Rhumour
August 28th 2010
uniting farcical flocks all over the world,
gregarious garments, talismans &
little good luck charms required by religions
to ward off “evil spirits,” to separate man
from “god,” or to just protect the fuzzy sheep
from the rest of us heathens,
are donned by believers everywhere
(but kept oh so secret).
the infamous magical mormon underwear
whose mere mention offends the mormons
strike the nonbeliever as an extra special case
as one may envision horny hocus-pocus
surrounding the ceremonies held within the guise of a
uniquely ludicrous worship of fiction---
the lds correct one quickly, saying that these “temple garments”
are sacred & that is why they are secret,
once bearing stitched “L’s & V’s,” thought at best to be
squares & compasses,
evidence of founder joseph smith’s own signing up with the
big boys, the freemasons, whilst trying to get some buddies
who had power.
while christians, buddhists, sikhs, muslims, jews, jains,
taoists, zoroastrians & for that matter, numerous other local
& tribal religions, all seem to put some stock in “peace malas”
---little 16 beaded bracelets representing a rainbow to
take on our “spiritual paths,” jews specifically have worn
the “roite bindele”---a red wool string that is worn around the
wrist of the left hand, thought by kabbalahbabblers to ward off evil, especially
that ever so evil “evil eye,” that so many in the 21st century
are still afraid of.
scientologists, always out to out-ridiculous the competition,
whose elite army known as the “sea organization,” marches
round Gold Base in cali, parading now on land in the poor rip-off
attire based on US navy uniforms, as they did when they were
peddling their own brand of bosh mumbo jumbo in La Boheme,
prior to its shut down in 2008 for asbestos (awe boo hoo, guess
we’ll have to nurture our “thetans” & try to get in better touch with
the “supreme being” elsewhere).
what asinine apparel exemplifies in the superstitious
is not only the need to escape the tribulations of everyday life
which weighs upon us all, but more so, to advertise a chosen
dogmatic & downright daffy way to live, which strengthens
those within the flock, but which is meant to reel new fish in,
so as to perpetuate this idiocy in an age when the species needs
LESS, not more of it.
As little child walked in the field of flowers,
Picking and smelling them as she grows,
The pervading air fragrance of Guava
The majestic mellow Mangoes too in wet season,
The atmosphere of green garden eggs,
Caressing melody of crunchy carrots cracker,
The hidden colours of pineapples,
Bulb of yellow oranges lighted the line green trees,
Would be in season all year, including rags to
riches filling Maize
And pods shelled nourishing beans,
Surging umbrella leaves of papaya,
Shallow rooted coco-yam,the variegated
lettuce that brightens everyday,
With the crowded bananas are growing everyday,
But now,they are in wet tins and dry cartons
For that very busy mankind.
The landscapes within are beautifully measureless,
The Jacaranda and Tamarind trees had cast
Their shadows on the plain, and not forgetting,
The Silk-cottons and the wilderness of palm fruits
That grow tall and sure,
And under them we played cracking out nuts and
eating them,
But now, elevated long balcony, we have
That you stand and weep of the passing phases.
The sepulcher we all grew up in,
Might not be the same dungeon now,
And the cradle you are born in
Could well be the same abode now,
Thatched roof has given birth
To corrugated reflections,
Likewise the fragile asbestos fight for space with concretizing flat,
The mud debris has turned to bricks and plaster erect;
New galaxies of dwelling and scattered
About in a festival of designs;
Some are like an octagonal
A cone, a triangle and spec angular façade yet unseen;
All glasses, cupped and straight down
Like the eccentric mansions in heaven,
The spec tropic clime had turned suddenly,
The wind blows and smell of change,
The sun blaze down on man and space and warned,
Of great consequent yet in the
Outer-atmosphere would burst,
As we are cuddly warm
The poles wildly discharged their zillion captured
Water in a spasm of deluge right upon us…I think,
Like urchins, we fumble forgetting the next hour,
But what would happen is nature’s raison d’etre;
Man and his environ scope both have shibboleth gone pathways
And fast we are turning into artificial humankind.
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(What Mankind Forgot)
We forgot our place in life
We forgot how to be alive
We forgot our connection to life and the cosmos
We filled our homes, schools and hospitals with the killer asbestos
We forgot our ancient wisdom
We forgot the wisdom from the opening of our heart the knowledge and stories of How we did come About and how we did start
We forgot the knowledge of natures forces
We forgot the power from the deepest of sources
We stole from our planet and are using up all of its resources
We forgot our path and our dreams
We polluted our once purest streams
We took from earth many things we did not need
We built cars, planes and trains that pumped out poison that us and our future Generations are Expected to breathe
We have to take we cannot leave
We ditched our horses and bred them wild
But wild they are not
Their help and ability we forgot
We forgot our true purpose
We are caught in the mass trance of fabricated consensual reality
We lost sight of our authenticity
That inner spark that drives us towards our happiness and self-realization
We lost our True destiny
We forgot that we are here to be realized as spiritual beings embodied in a physical form and Embedded in a congenial universe
We forgot that everything revolves around and is love
We forgot how to love and be loved
We live on bended knees to a force that isn't seen with thy eye
That should see the truth
We cannot see without the proof
We forgot what we once stood for
We shunned it out and locked the door
We are no more
What we once was
Mankind has lost all scense of what it means to be free
Be bend down and hand away our pride and dignity
To the power that over rules our reason to exist
We are stranded and scared in a forever descending mist.
Written by sarah Linklater 28th march 2015
Acid has become our rain
and oceans with mercury do we stain
dioxin lies beneath our ground
in everything toxic materials be found
E-coli is used to alter genes in food
where recombinant DNA is understood
heavy metals do the population addle
as the health industry lose continuing battle
With the law makers do the inhabitants contend
and a wealthy man can the laws amend
documented information on man's pollution
yet nobody seems to have a solution
Programs that show if man were to die
nature herself would repurify
at 300 years would be the retaking
of only a portion of what mankind is making
Desecration upon desecration upon the land
mankind destroys himself with his own hand
no amount of law can change our ways
our own nature fallen since ancient of days
Scientists who study regeneration
pursue this path with great fascination
they know that the body should heal itself
but understand not sin and it's stealth
Deserts now stand where nature did blossom
the amount of the damage is beyond awesome
ground waters filled with pesticide
about it's effects have governments lied
Asbestos and arsenic and lead just a few
adversely affect the body nothing new
tons upon tons of toxins released to our air
and only for wealth do manufacturers care
Seabirds and mammals die from plastic trash
the production of garbage for making of cash
forest and savannahs are being depleted
in soil degradation are crops being seeded
With love for our earth the concerned have their say
but the pursuers of wealth do get their way
the destroyers of earth with God will clash
but this system of things will Jesus dash
sources Gen. 6:11 Eze.9:1-6 Matt. 6:24
Luke 16:13 Revelation 11:18
reading and study of science
COPYRIGHT © 2010 C. Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Tell me again
This wealth you gasp and clamour for
This strategy you wield
From the invincible substratum
Where the hunt pursues the frenzied heart
And the congestive traffic of arteriosclerosis
For what do you deal
The long evenings swinging on the green and
The soul's sanity again?
I have checked for definitions
One say it is production from the land
And I hear in it engines
Ripping out the earth's red heart
Another say it is a product of labour
And I imagine a weary mother
And the pains of dystocia
Besides you own no land
Where concrete does not mushroom
Into skyscrapers
And dirt abominable in the atmosphere
And I guess labor is not physical.
Some say it is a measure of value
Of what you own
Was that the members of my body
For I pay tax for
Is a mere rental, not mine.
Easement only entitles me
To brown paper bags blowing in the gust
And the oily wrap of hamburger papers
I never bought them
They just fell where I bare the cost without the benefits.
Men who own revenue are rich
You say it is policy
That the labourers clock in at eight
I say its power
That make men to make wealth
They give away for the pittance of wage
All morning I have watched them
As they check their assets of grief
Before getting to security at the gate
Grief is suspicious you know
Only terrorists have grievances.
We bring our last resolve to work
The heart like a derrick
Grappling with the weight in the sky.
It is all your wealth
His mother phlegmatic coughing
And asbestos dust
Thickening on the lip of the child
I have no love for the Midas disease
For still its free
The open air
The sun cracking nuts in a tree
And the wild shout of cataract
And below me the immense gorge
Where the water trickles
Under the dam
Irrevocably to the sea.
In my day we played outside, riding horses,
Playing hide and seek and on swings and slides.
And only on rainy days
Were we confined inside to play.
We played slap jack, crazy eight, go fish
And Lincoln logs was our dish.
Everyone drank coffee and tea
No caffeine worries did they see
All our houses were painted bright
And no one heard of the lead base plight
The new homes of the day had asbestos,
But what the hey!
This was during World War II
Where our fathers, brothers, uncles and aunts
Left our homes for foreign lands.
Here at home when sirens screamed
It was our Air Raid Warning Drill.
And companies that worked through the night
Were required to paint their windows black
Safety was our countries goal
Here at home and on foreign soil.
We played at the lake and tanned or fried
When we got home a little cow cream was applied.
Where I lived prohibition was still affirmed
And Bootleggers were the cops major concern.
The air we breathed was just air
Unless a corral or hog farm were near.
Transportation was car, bus or train
The only planes I ever saw
Were B 29’s heading for foreign soil.
I can’t help but wonder how we survived
Compared to the rules and laws we now abide.
I just heard a well known man say
“No more Santa Claus he is to fat”
“It’s bad for kids to honor a man like that.”
The Christmas tree has become “Happy Holiday”
No prayers in school, It breaks the rules they say.
Religion in government there is no place
“In God We Trust” is a disgrace.
When was the last time the Constitution was read
Were our Forefathers out of their heads?
“Merry Holidays too and you best take a stand
If you want to continue to have Peace in Our Land.”
River Findings
The Ohio winds around hills
and streams down the hollows
passes steel mills, brick yards and scrap yards.
It carries tug boats, pushes barges, and hauls
black coal stripped from the mountainsides.
The Ohio’s littered banks
are home to train yards
filled with graffiti-covered box cars
rusting relics of the Southern Pacific
and the Norfolk and Southern railroads.
Erector set bridges span
the murky river and link Ohio
to “Wild, Wonderful, West Virginia,”
the Weirton Mill,
and Homer Laughlin China Company.
In towns called Powhaton Point,
Shadyside, Bellaire, and East Liverpool,
houses are stacked on hillsides
with an array of slate,
tin and asbestos shingled roofs.
Ball fields and corn fields,
concrete parking lots and shopping malls
are full of busy people
who fail to appreciate
the river’s charity.
There are roads with cryptic names like Goose Run,
Pinch Run, Riddles Run, and Rush Run.
There are towns named Brilliant,
Costonia and Calcutta,
each with their own secrets.
North on Route 7 bars advertise Karaoke
and all you can eat fish fries.
A plethora of car lots and gift shops,
bait stores and gun supplies
dot the countryside with
a never-ending display
of marketing profanity,
but the river rolls on
never compromising her dignity
never surrendering her boundaries.
White-steepled churches
stand like beacons of redemption,
while billboards promote“Hell Fire Fireworks,”
“Gentlemen’s” clubs, sleazy motels
and the “Forbidden Zone Exit.”
Still the river moves along
around the hills and down the hollows
proud and powerful
chanting and rippling with satisfaction
a stalwart testament to her tenacity…
No person wants to live in a condemned building, with it's decrepit roof and ceiling
raining asbestos and lead upon your head, no one wants it but you can always go outside.
No person wants to live in a condemned building and drink from it's rusty faucets filled
with mercury and lead, lithium and rust, water so brown with bacteria and dirt that no
person should have to drink it but you can always drink from a bottle.
No person wants to live in a condemned building with it's putrid air so filthy and full of
dust and bacteria that sickness is not a possibility it is guaranteed but no one says you
have to live there, unless your poor that is.
No person wants to live in a condemned building with windows unable to protect from heat
or cold, where summers can suffocate and winter's can freeze. Where your about as safe
behind those windows as a tree is from the air. Any cretin from outside could easily come
inside and do unspeakable things. Such a house is unlivable and should be condemned.
However, what if the outside world was no better?
What if air outside was rotten with disease and poison and the lakes and oceans were so
brown that dying of thirst would be advisable?
What if the ground itself was so filled with garbage and waste that you wonder why you
can't just live somewhere else?
What if the planet itself were condemned and unlivable? Where would you or I go?
This is not as much a fantasy as it is reality that the planet should be condemned and no
one living thing should live here yet we have no place to go and we have no one else to
blame but ourselves.
Can this fixer upper be repaired or will we, the human race be condemned along side of it?