I wrote this in 2008 . In light of the tossing aside of the Paris Accord. It's relevant today.
We are all dead here!
Lives spun out of patterned chaos shredded and spent in adoration of Mac Blo, Nasdaq, Exxon, Bechtel, ... Promises of sated lives........ broken percussion played out on now arrhythmic pulses.
A Long line of gangling skeletal bodies dressed in uniform gay glissando. That covers our sickly blue translucent, mottled, skim milk, hides.
Furtive, over shoulder, looks.
Anguished twitches in response to sounds of deep limitless mourning.
The final uncontrolled movements of cadavers freshly dead; .
Eyes sunk and fearful; turned inward toward a dim receding wisp of promised yesterday.
We walk two by two towards the final dark compline to Chants long forgotten...... Wishful Quixotic mantras to worlds held momentarily free from .... our lusting, grasping egos.........
Marakesh! Kyoto! bright and strong in a future long past; that cradled hope for a reasoned forever.
Adolescent fury flames at those who would ask for thought or reason or restraint.
Pleadings for a planet on its knees!
We are the last, with conscious memory of cool rose dawns and blinding blue meridians.
Of afternoons made soft by breezes, brightly dappled gold, dancing through waves of forest green.
Of evenings sensuous with a secret flower's redolence............ and stars.
This grey and dripping world; the shroud we carelessly wove for generations planned but now never to be made real........ thank god!
We are Satan enough.
We have reaped Armageddon......In terrible wonder... It is the magenta dawn of noon!
We are all dead here!
Poetry by josephus
Read 593 times
Written on 2017-06-03 at 14:06
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To A Dying Planet
We are all dead here!
Lives spun out of patterned chaos shredded and spent in adoration of Mac Blo, Nasdaq, Exxon, Bechtel, ... Promises of sated lives........ broken percussion played out on now arrhythmic pulses.
A Long line of gangling skeletal bodies dressed in uniform gay glissando. That covers our sickly blue translucent, mottled, skim milk, hides.
Furtive, over shoulder, looks.
Anguished twitches in response to sounds of deep limitless mourning.
The final uncontrolled movements of cadavers freshly dead; .
Eyes sunk and fearful; turned inward toward a dim receding wisp of promised yesterday.
We walk two by two towards the final dark compline to Chants long forgotten...... Wishful Quixotic mantras to worlds held momentarily free from .... our lusting, grasping egos.........
Marakesh! Kyoto! bright and strong in a future long past; that cradled hope for a reasoned forever.
Adolescent fury flames at those who would ask for thought or reason or restraint.
Pleadings for a planet on its knees!
We are the last, with conscious memory of cool rose dawns and blinding blue meridians.
Of afternoons made soft by breezes, brightly dappled gold, dancing through waves of forest green.
Of evenings sensuous with a secret flower's redolence............ and stars.
This grey and dripping world; the shroud we carelessly wove for generations planned but now never to be made real........ thank god!
We are Satan enough.
We have reaped Armageddon......In terrible wonder... It is the magenta dawn of noon!
We are all dead here!
Poetry by josephus
Read 593 times
Written on 2017-06-03 at 14:06
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