What are we?
Who are we?
What have we become?
What have we done but
That we strut and curse
With Human ignorance
And hubris?
We sew pockets of hell on Earth
And fret when it’s too late
And still yet tell ourselves
That any fiction is infinitely better
Than to fess up; than to face our
Reaping
Wide,
The World weeps bloody tears
And suffocates under fractious clouds
That wreck and reek to retching
Sick, the planet heaves,
Clamouring for more glamour
And belief’s cold sweats
Adrenaline free-falling out of
Disconnect
Selective fear and fury
Horror
Paranoia
Stalks the Psyche;
Trammels
Into frozen thought and feeling
The whole world is reeling;
Dancing to discordant tunes
Tectonic Titans crunching
Crushing
Scraping scraps with blades
All is percussion
Gluttonous
And crashing
World made glass and straw
And poisoned shores
In hearts and thoughts
Polluting souls
The whole world wrought
To overwrought and overwhelm
And all for nought.
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This is music to me, a line that just resonates from beginning to end. It has emotion and meaning yet it flows (sometimes races) from start to finish with sounds and colours, timbres if you will and only at the end did I realise I ought to breathe. Yup a pretty good poem. Thank you.
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Thank you! I’d almost forgotten it. I might repost it, as it is even more apt now, than it was, two and a half years ago!
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