tag:dreamwidth.org,2013-05-12:2014669
Journey to Ixtlan
(are we there yet?)
kokopelle
2019-09-27T02:01:35Z
tag:dreamwidth.org,2013-05-12:2014669:961339
Poem - Lack of a Cure
2019-09-27T02:01:35Z
2019-09-27T02:01:35Z
contemplative
public
0
The poem “Lack of a Cure” is about the neglect of older generations in the arena of combating climate change. These elderly souls may pass from the earth before doom fully descends, but their children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren will shoulder the resulting hell.<br /><br /><br />Lack of a Cure<br /><br />The end will come very soon<br />steal the beloved left behind<br />after fools have expired<br />sealing doom in aftermath<br /><br />a fate none seek is ensured<br />by the lack of a pressing cure<br />when medicine is put aside<br />by the infirm who will die<br /><br />before the worse comes to pass<br />leaving nothing then to last<br />sweeping all from the earth<br />reduced to beasts as a curse<br /><br />still the fools have their day<br />staking comfort in the blink<br />living large in twilight years<br />before a hell descends to earth.<br /><br />© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190926.<br /><br /><img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=kokopelle&ditemid=961339" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/> comments
tag:dreamwidth.org,2013-05-12:2014669:893684
Poem - Flowers in the End
2019-01-06T23:41:29Z
2019-01-06T23:43:04Z
contemplative
public
0
The poem “Flowers in the End” was inspired by a re-purposed meme that featured a discussion between two characters, One is planting flowers. The first asks, “why so optimistic about 2019? What do you think it will bring? Everything seems so messed up.” The second character replies, “I think it will bring flowers.” The first says, “yes, how come?”. The first say, “because I am planting flowers.”<br /><br /><br />Flowers in the End<br /><br />There will be flowers in the end<br />after the towers topple down<br />casting stones where they may<br />among the petals that remain<br />probing for the winking sun<br />faces turned upward to find the orb<br />obscured by clouds man has made<br />rich with ash from distant flames<br /><br />the past planters are in their graves<br />sharing space with probing roots<br />tendrils seeking nourishment<br />those late yarders now fertilizer<br />the end result of what’s transpired<br />means so little to budding plants<br />innocent unto themselves<br />bear still witness in the end<br /><br />the bright colors testify<br />that hope continues past the end <br />even if there are no folks<br />to bear witness to spectrums shown<br />differences provoked the end<br />now the hues remind the dead<br />of the beauty most forgot<br />in the range of varied thought<br /><br />the world is whole for a brief time<br />enough to bring forth budded spawn<br />the curtain has not fully dropped<br />even though the world is silent<br />they exist because the gardeners<br />foresaw how the world would fall<br />when normality does revert<br />the flowers will greet returning souls.<br /><br />© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190106.<br /><br /><img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=kokopelle&ditemid=893684" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/> comments