Long Ice cap Poems
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Consider all the years of planet earth
so much change in all that time
even in past century so very much done
became hi-tech age but is all in rhyme?
Now less think now about far into future
one hundred years seems a long way
will that generation know things now?
for no one knows what's ahead in a day
The world may not be here then
Jesus could have returned here
but the world may still be open
open for service may be laid bare
Climate control may have taken over
the arctic ice cap will have gone
so much water covered so much of earth
even fish won't be found gone to spawn
A century of years later
where much indeed changed
if we peoples still do exist
at best we'll all be rearranged
(I have written this piece to look at what I think my version of this world 100 Years Hence would look like.)
How long does a drop last?
An eternity or dry up fast?
Wiped away by a towel
Or drank away with a swallow
Just a little drop of wet
Not in the ocean yet
But when they meet
They splash and crash
As they greet
Deep down in the sea
In and out of gills
So many wonders to see
Swooshing about with thrills
Washed up ashore
When heat begins to attack
Evaporate and grow more
Riding on a clouds back
How long will that cloud last?
Growing big and vast
Until temperature cools
And gravity rules
So down came that water drop
Into a river with a flop
Flowing fast and splashing
Into a pool savagely thrashing
Down a pipe, in fact
Coming out of a tap
Have you ever just sat
Thinking time has passed
How long does that drop last
North and south snowy mass
Frozen in time forever trapped
Part of a larger ice cap
Sure as the cherry blossoms flutter whispers
upon a winds breath gently dances lace
pink softens petal wrapped cotton silk
winds whisper when Christmas falls
unfolding a white blanket reversed undying
cold melts frozen ice cap exposed life
As the ferry man always calls tricks
chills piercing icicles crystal clear cut
cracks appear under a surface cross
mirrors of destiny from the salted ocean
we pay homage with our dewdrops sparkle
Recollecting time falling back
counting down past sins
kissing your feet in each step forward
Forever adds up to precious memories
searching the stars fallen burning fire explains all
where dust remains upon a magic wish blown freely
Always light of our Saviour comes
crowing heavens sky supernova
star of all stars prince of peace
enters a King's blessing
so comforting warm alone with you Lord
joyous angels of Grace forever holds
the highest of all notes chanting
brightly upon one treasured gift Temple
Ark of the covenant I believe in you
"A rulerless fiefdom as the smaller ice cap is polarized." ~ by Poet.
White fields of ice, a solemn realm;
Behold, a polar bear wanders, an awesome sight.
Beneath the frozen sea, a vast world calls,
a residual pastel moon,
where penguins and walruses tend their own.
Dark holds as chilly flows, back and forth, and sideways,
and nature’s ancient hollow plays.
Aurora’s arc cascading everglow,
It is a luminous show overhead.
Strike the wintry night sky, northern magic fulfills,
while traversing icy bellows.
Seals’ body maneuvers, plummeting, faithfully,
in the abysmal blue ocean,
darting smoothly and graceful in motion.
Fish’s technique of catching, while getting caught,
as the world is forever changing fast,
with underwater volcanoes,
and the ice is melting swift nowadays.
Water’s rising, and wildlife is fleeing;
Future change as humans awestruck, about their home?
What If There Was No Tomorrow? - The Polar Ice ‘Cap’
- this time it’s burnt and curled upon a new head. The
sweet smoke of his sugarloaf effigy black as night,
surrounded by a material red trim, below Parliament houses
blows political greed into fiery smouldering smithereens –
then it floated and landed after years, drifting, onto
the crown of a man: a business man portraying
wealth and class; here it sat above suit and below sun. The
American dream swirled with scotch and the tip of a bowler,
only for the same piece (restyled of coursed) to later sell for
pounds to make the pupils of any impoverished person pop:
his Hamburg with a knowing dent in back, how it span and
spun from black to grey and back again around Hill’s peak
to be dyed again and tilted just so. Now it’s pillbox pink and a knitted
O of a name/shape-sake that covers her head where her husband
had a target upon his. Watermelon-pink colour dye actually: the very
same fruit palette of brain cradled in her hands at high speed.
This latest star attraction of Burgdorf’s no doubt was, decades
prior, nothing but a mix of lifeless green and sludge brown from
grass and cud - metallic dead daises ducking over No Man’s
Land. A Brodie: styled on a not-yet-pulled pin grenade atop
beads of sparkling sweat, dripping slipping salt where now
a pedal controlled sewing machine stabs and pins sequins into
veils that hide brides with (it must be said) the same success
that protected Fawkes’ Plot or Churchill’s reputation or
Jackie’s husband and the slaughtered soldiers’ skulls - but
still the accessories twist into fascinators fancy enough for
mothers to weep below, only to find the box dish or bow
to be knocked akilter during the traditional bouquet mad
dash - then up – up – up! into the air before landing anew,
refreshed as a Gatsby or Hijab, perhaps a Trilby or Zucchetto;
better yet, the Boater or Sailor we’ll need when the hat that covers
all our heads smoulders and peaks when next dented and melted: a
loose grenade we can’t be veiled from, nor refashioned nor restyled
when the next season’s must have
will be a copper and bolt
protective Diving Mask
for the drowning tomorrow
from The Polar Ice 'Cap'.
I AM miles away in outer space sending a message to the human race
Your wildlife is dying in fields of fire
And your ice cap is melting as the temperature gets higher
You have so much plastic that fills your sea's
And your world is being infected by a new disease
You have a problem without a doubt
And you need to act now to sort it out
You have a hole in your ozone that is getting bigger
But your leaders denied this they laugh and s
So I am sending you this message from outer space
You need to save your planet and the human race.
Your intergalactic watcher
A. LIAN...
7/23/22
Unlike anyone
Can't be worried about none
Got to get it done
As well as have fun
Doing it all underneath the moon and sun
Took losses but mostly won
Carrying a gun
Weight on my shoulders light as a feather or a ton
Regarding me, ladies often shun
So I just move on and hit another home run
All night and day long
I remain strong
Despite feeling lost like a stray dog
Not all have something nice to say
She won't give me the time of day
No matter, I'll find a way
Without there being a price to pay
You won't, but believe me
This all seems to be
Somewhat cheesy
And far too easy
People remaining sleazy
It's nothing new for our species
The tires wearing down, getting a little screechy
Another glass of alcohol instead of Fiji
Feeling alien like E.T.
Far from peachy
Can't get any time back
Girl you got something about you, I like that
But you're always trying to strike fast
Staying cold like an arctic ice cap
I can't even get you to reply back
Left me high and dry in less than five flat
At this point I laugh
With much of this I could do away
I'm hungover, but I don't need to recuperate
I still show up and work through the day
Then I rejuvenate
Nothing but the truth I state
What I do, you can't duplicate
With you, I tried to communicate
But you just wanted to mutilate
Regardless, I got to do it now, not in a future date
Respect to the Holy Mother
She's always trying to throw me under
In hopes that I will only suffer
Among all these trophy hunters
Seeing mostly colors
Still a lonely er
Restless Summer heat
It is odd how we forget we live on a restless planet
the talk of the melting ice cap is true enough; it melted
before when Greenland was a hot house for plants
In Spain and Portugal, the impression is of two lands
are burning tragedy we blame people for
but we overlook that there was a serious fire in 1823
so nothing is new on the planet
Flooding in Pakistan has happened for a long time
where people work on land, that is the path of
flooding and avalanches, not every inch of land
is suitable for mankind; we are on borrowed time
Earth will shake us off like a louse on a dog's fur
Club nocturnal
In Bilbao, on a warm evening, he walked past a nightclub
walked in and had a beer; he could have gone to
a Guggenheim Museum and be culturally minded, absorb
and mention it later in a passing conversation, “the other
day at the Guggenheim.”
At the club, a group of people sat drinking affluent bubbly
wine, thinking it was champagne, the group laughed a lot
and apparently had a fine time, although, he thought they
were a bit frenzied about the fun
The people around the table didn’t look prosperous and
the women looked like office tarts, with too much lipstick and
mascara, flashing eyes and giggles.
He knew (had been there) that the one footing the bill
would feel dreadful in the morning, sensing the futility
an ice cap on sagging shoulders of hopelessness.
No, it was not the drinking, real drinkers do not frequent
nightclubs, but drinking at modest places, was about feeling swanky
a man about town.
He paid for his beer and complained about the price
the waiter pointed to a pricelist hanging high on a wall, so there!
Along the boulevard, he bought newspapers went to a café,
had some wine and spent hours enjoying himself.
What if the earth's not flat just a bit bent
Horizons but the hype of those who fled
Twisted by the weight of our cement
The creeping edge of "mindful" government.
Perhaps the bureaucrats should drop their drawers
And turn the ice cap yellow as it thaws
Mock the crumbling of the Arctic shelf
The house and senate playing with themself.
But then again the status quos a lie
for nothing stays the same, not earth, not sky
The giant redwoods fell and slowly died
Long before the crush of human pride.
And we a mutant curse upon the planet
Sit in broken shale we took for granite.
John G. Lawless
2/2/2020d