we smear the wipe of excrement
across the 17 corners of Earth.
Earth gave us iron. We bent it into:
- teeth to shear wood
- claws to dig vast mire
- barrels to impregnate flesh
- with rending lead hemorrhage
- nerve strings to conduct impulse
- winged cages vaulting heaven.
- cloaks to confine horizon
- canals to coerce water
- pavement to conduct movement
- crop lands to cultivate
- mounds to conceal the dead.
- dams to spin turbines
- pipes to plumb
- bottles to beverage
- vats to vaporize
- sewers to sanctify.
- chopped, burnt, mowed
- tilled, sprouted
- ginned cotton
- fabricated
- gene spliced
- patent protected.
- burnt it. let fly
- ash and soot,
- black fly swarms upon sky
- streets of smoke trailing
- down the wind, spreading
- grey-green haze
- ever cross dusking ridge horizon.
We tore, we razed, we cratered hilltops.
We sprawled. We trampled. We tilled and butchered.
We fractured acre. We chased fond wish
in clumsy mimic, ever
marshaling more machine.
Pliant earth has bent to our will,
proffered bounties
knelt in sacrifice, before our
sword and alter.
We got what we wanted.
Now, earth shrouds. Veils clothe her.
glimmer of the sun grows shy,
retreats beyond.
Her breath expelled,
a long and gentle peaceful
exhalation
fogs the spectacles of our race.
This pause that blinds
has quelled our mind,
drawn us down in slumber grey wool,
foresight paralyzed
whilst dreams of all the
vast panoply
spin emptily,
like vacant Ferris wheels.
Enmeshed in our distraction, we hardly hear
groan and thud: Earth's
crumpling collapse.
Fires of depletion lick along
rusted rim of morrow.
Planetary shudder flattens
fantasy of permanence.
Roads buckle. Crops incinerate.
City of dreams engulfed in dust,
silencing frog
and skylark.
Rumpelstiltskin returns,
demanding recompense.
Bumpy ride awaits:
many will lose lunch.
How shall we shoulder
the harrows of this future?
How presence the precious?
How heal the raw wounds:
sliced palms
impaled ventricles
battered brains?
Kindness is our key.
In every moment, every intent,
may kindness be the guide.
May we unfurl this frond
unwrapt in tiny leaflets
of gentle grace.
May genuine heart of sadness
melt wracked missiles of malice.
May the kindness of the soft soil,
the tender yarrow,
the sweet song of sky's rejoice,
the mild balm of kindness
clear the heaven, cleanse the water,
heal the Earth, heal human heart!
Thanks Dwight. I really enjoyed your poem. I was taken on quite a journey through the destruction and taking, and really sensed that we are moving through the bottom, and presencing kindness, in order to see, think and act in new ways. Beautiful
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