Bodily
We are looking for in the universe.
In the hardening of the liquid.
Crustacean particles in the oceans and seas.
Fat that can be formed by proliferation of oxides in space.
Oil in grasses and plants.
The bodies of ocean and sea creatures and insects.
The oil of soil sand and water.
And the human and animal body.
Categories:
oxides, animal, earth, history, life,
Form: Free verse
When the last wild tree has fallen,
Concrete covered last bare earth,
When we've finally completed
Rape of the Mother Earth,
When the last bird has flown freely,
The last wild animal safely caged,
Will we be proud of the warfare
Against nature mankind has waged.
When the earth is one big city
With an outlook bare and bleak
Will we have finally achieved
The victory we seem to seek,
The natural world confined in
Glassed arboretum, in zoos
And nature is reduced to manicured
Manufactured sterile views,
When machines have pumped oxygen
Cleansing carbon oxides from the air,
Oceans been cleansed of the garbage
We had in the past thrown in there.
When global warming is controlled
And the climate has settled down
Wondering if life will be of value
If, when looking around
The only view is the buildings
Of the one big sprawling town.
No more swinging swaying
Freely whispering trees
To accompany the birdsong
Drifting on a spring breeze.
Or a poignant scene
So hard to forget,
A skein of wild geese flying
Against an autumn sunset
Categories:
oxides, environment,
Form: Rhyme
What are we doing to our planet?
Processing oils,
pumping air with oxides;
be them sulphur,
or nitrogen gas.
Burning coals,
manufacturing chemicals.
Making acid rain -
burning our -
dumb ass!
Categories:
oxides, caregiving, death, dedication, depression,
Form: Free verse
Where the chug of boiling water pumps
and spills its acids, oxides,
to dye the ice-slabbed hillside orange-red
desert colors, we loll naked in a pool
lulled half-asleep; first drugged in a broth
of minerals shot from the earth´s core,
then dragged down to a nether place
where the chill of air is salt, sunwarmth, sugar,
until what is known is only what is sensed:
far down below there´s no stations
of the seasons, no days passing, only this
thrashing deeper, coupling, uncoupling
in unsunned wetness where all beginnings are.
Categories:
oxides, art, life, drug,
Form: Classicism