If Mother Earth came forth today
she'd throw her hand up, and would say.
"Oh my dear world what have you done?
Look closely at what you've become."
Humanity with no regard
to live in peace can't be too hard!
Destruction, pillage, selfish greed,
all comes from want, and not from need.
You strip the trees, the soil is bare
You mine my lands without due care.
You take and take, do not replace
You slaughter half the human race.
You poison water ways and seas,
and spread around filthy disease.
You cut the throat of fellow man
what once was good, now out of hand.
With dirty politics you fight
make sure that love is out of sight.
Instead, keep taking from the pot
quite soon you will destroy the lot.
So when I stop and look around
there's little joy that can be found.
Despite the crisis found of late
You're still at war! consumed with hate.
Perhaps I'll offer some advice
before you pay the final price.
The future's really up to you,
and will depend on what you do.
Be thankful that your still alive
but change is needed to survive.
What legacy you leave behind
is really up to all mankind.
This candle burns slowly —and with the severity of courage
We pick our way with utter caution down the bombarded stairway
One thing is certain: we must flee from this scoffing pillage.
Aided by fluttering tallow, our vision is haunted by the airway.
A tsunami of black ash blankets half a world
Trash toadstool hoodoos, wastelandic pillage
and pollutant mucus ravishes lava villages
Draining is the amalgam mass at the end of the spectrum
Stone environs shock, unnatural landscapes
Polyethylene islands flushing the canvas
Carbon contaminant fumes flair in mid drift air
Virtually no place on Earth is free of the polymer fog
Foaming magma cascades over metallic mushroom roots
Spiny shoots sprout tentacles from rubber trees
Mercury and cadmium toxin leeches' groundwater
Above the quicksand are flying objects that pass as vultures
For a million magarican dollars I was greeted by a masked spacebot
Left on moonlit Luna's Lot are my collection of yin-yang art articles
Never call this pretty
Ravenous heaves of craving borne only by ugly
And the chatter and chatter
Nothing seems to matter
But your pursuit
Stomp them down while they slumber
Pillage and plunder
Battle axe with a smile intact
Ms. Raging Bull
How long 'til he sees the strength of your arms
and the grin like receding waters?
The stench of your intent
The bile of the tempest trials
The mastery of flattery
Feed hungry ears
Beguile your foolish peers
You have won in pretense
What comes after caused by then
Common sense common sense
In truth, it's one eye open
and second guesses
Praying she's not any more wretched
Your love the suckling
Nursing on memories of the dead
It's in your head, in your head
You will chase and spin
Damning to win
Carrying desperate affection
Avoiding your reflection
Yours is forever
A lifetime endeavor
And you’ll toil and you’ll toil
Forever a slave to your spoils
If I was a marauder
I would move to Kansas City
To pillage smelly garage from barbeque restaurants
Lots of customers do not finish their food
I would do it in May
Before the June flies swarm in
is it Friday already; my pill box says so
how many Fridays have fallen
into my palm. my nickname
is Friday, and I pop
my morning pills, interminably
mindful of ginkgo-biloba
and the rest; pillage
of my youth. left
for the book sale; to drop
off books and pick up more
from the library floor. ancient
you must think. watch me
amble row to row; I’m not
a Spring chicken; I’m wintering
in the sun; wandering; wondering
if pills are squandered on me.
oh yes, one more thing
I have to…ahem…go
marauders unite
pillage village captain said
next day two lay dead
not as much fun now
knees gone, they move very slow
old age full of woe
We are admonished by guardians of civilization
to battle the enemy with due civil restraints
Yet with a nagging visceral realization
we know wars are not fought by saints
Rules of war shield all children from harm
disallowing rape and torture and pillage
soothing unease, assuaging alarm
reassuring every town, farm and village
Long ago Sherman warned us war is hell
as knowing heads bowed with grim words unspoken
Now lulled into another innocent naive spell
we learn again rules are meant to be broken
An eerie calm has been encroaching
as dawn's pale light approaches the realm
of what is usually a normal morning
but no songbirds are softly trilling today
They've all taken shelter from the storm
the one that rumbles ever nearer... she comes
One of nature's evil forces is on her way
a strengthening femme fatale I fear
has set her course due north
Her compass arrow pointed right at me
She churns Gulf waters and raises tides
gulping it down as if it were an elixir
from which her hurricane winds swirl
She comes to inflict harm and pillage
among coastal villages and cities
Not a drop of rain has fallen, but she comes.
No traffic can be heard, not a single word
from children waiting for a school bus.
It's declared a stay home from work day
Francine will rule our southern coast
boasting as her pressure drops
and nothing can stop her chosen path
Her wrath will be done... she comes
this evening, she comes for us
A poor little girl's gone missing,
Where's the knight to rescue her,
There he is and he's insisting,
He will find poor little Blair.
First he found a treacherous lake,
Full of sirens so alluring,
Slaying them was a piece of cake,
And the bloody screams reassuring.
After sweet song came a homely village,
Full of helpful denizens aplenty,
They'd seen no girl so the knight did pillage,
Taking all til the town was empty.
With plunder from the raided village,
Was he ready to face the dragons visage,
The third hurde to be overcome,
Was real difficult, how irksome.
The dragon was immortal but slain,
Incapacitated for a bit, killed in vain.
To the girl the knight ran,
Justifying all that he had done.
The girl turned and her face was gone,
She'd no mouth with which to sing a song,
Her limbs were thin as twigs,
Her starved body as heavy as bricks.
The fire in her eyes was gone as well,
With no strength left to quell.
She was too far gone he said,
About her they didnt have to worry,
Off and rolling went her head,
The killing was a mercy.
Approach of Wind, it chills
in a particular way.
Unexplainable, how it carries in competing tandem,
of unknown elements brought into the arena, bare.
Doctor's bag opened of winds,
surgical biopsy underway,
in new mandated trailways.
Membraned channels of envelope streams
holds aloft vapors of vial serums,
like a bassinet with black wings.
Intheorium sends it's postage.
It soothes the Cesarean Earth in her pangs,
for mankind's evil is great. How can it stand to be.
So he sends them a strong delusion
so that they may believe a lie.
Armies shall pillage the Family and
upend the carts in the Marketplace.
Souls shall be scattered to the four winds, looking desperately for a compass
that can find the head.
Delivery, once slow, has increased exponentially.
Magma rivers will haunt the landsape like lions,
Nemian.
Great forges looking for gold to smelt into idols of Pompeii.
For he shall stand in his Pomp in the Temple,
then sit, as if he is God.
DAYS LOST TO NIGHTS SUNSHINE TO THUNDER
AS IF THE PIRATE GODS RETURN TO PILLAGE
HUMANITY FOR MISTAKES MADE TO FEED THEIR SAVAGE HUNGER
NO ESCAPE NO REPRIEVE NO NEGOTIATING JUST DEATH OF THE VILLAGE
WE CAN ASK FOR FORGIVENESS AND PRAY WE ARE HEARD
BUT AT THE END OF THE DAY WE GOT TOGETHER TO ENJOY THE BENEFIT
BUT TRULLY WE DIDNT DO THE WORK TO THINK WE DID IS ABSURD
MAYBE IF WE HAD SET AN EXAMPLE A SAVIOR WOULD HAVE BEEN MORE ATTENTIVE BUT WE DIDNT FULFILL THE PREREQUISITES
TEARS OF THE LAND BLOOD OF THE SANDS
PRAYERS OF THE SACRED HOLY LANDS
CAN YOU HEAR THEM NOW AS THEY SILENTLY HOWL
PLEASE DO NOT DESTROY US FOR THE ACTIONS OF ONLY MAN
Yesterday the world engaged askance
And as you held my hand
As surely as the firmament of Earth
The hardening of your gaze
Assured my spirit of your recant
It is in the world we know it as time itself
here shadows bend within visions far beyond hope
Mountainous, like regions where eternals dwell
The pillage of my heart takes hold
With things to mend and tasks to undertake
Where luminescent dalliances of shade
Cast orbs betwixt the spheres of dawn
You stand, deft in your repose
And I wait, ready to meet your gaze
Where words of wisdom
Sing within your gaited frame
All hopes of reason rise beyond this dawnless day
And long begotten promises of future fate
Cast only spells of love
And nothing late
Boldly I exhume exclusion, a badge of sacrifice
Milestones shunned, money’s usual manoeuvre
Cultural flimsy stronghold, servant’s fiscal price
Top tier requires slaves toil all day for approval
Nonetheless, pleasingly, I hail our lucky country
Offers safety, anonymity, hovel unacknowledged
No need to solidify alliances, desperately hungry
Primed pilferers for immediate advantage pillage
Supplementing streetscapes bolster unsold soles
Trove tumbledryer drums cook my new costume
Accesses babyboomer tower, to fire escape stole
Secure deep sleep from moonless cement room
Adverse to version of
us who refuse to assimilate
A new season - Winter
Begins today
Luanda 1975
It was a fraught time in Luanda, the rebel army (freedom fighters)
was closing in on Luanda, leaving civilians exposed
to rape, murder and pillage.
The Portuguese army had dastardly skulked away and
General Spinola was in Lisbon playing politics
Colonialism was over, but there was fear of its ending
when hatred had to be sated.
Among the white population, there was a fatalistic mien
drowning their fear like the sinking Titanic, loud music, booze
and dancing, everything to live a little longer.
Then came the Germans (foreign legion) took charge
staved off the incoming, undisciplined riff-raff army
long enough for people to get on ships and planes to get
the hell out; as for the Germans found their way out to
South Africa.
The aftermath:
When hatred of the colonials subsided, the new Angola
found they needed the know-how of the settlers they
were invited back.
Today, thousands of Portuguese live to thrive in harmony
with the black population,
Related Poems