Thursday 17 February 2022

Darkness.

 Sometimes I walk a long dark corridor---


 Tinsel Cities.


In the city of tinsel and bright lights
midst the playthings of the rich
just beyond the champagne bubble
out of earshot of the butterfly people
in the dark shadows where no one looks
there you’ll find poverty and destitution
dance a macabre dance of survival.
In Mammon’s city of grand illusions
where rivers of wealth feed frivolity
in its twisting dark and musty lanes
where the light of hope seldom shines
an army of the living dead sweat and toil
polishing the tinsel, changing light bulbs
refilling the champagne bottles
nothing must stop the flow of frivolity
or the butterfly people will die.
 
 Victory.

Nature recoiled from the savage beast
A beast so fierce on its war horse of progress
sweeping aside all that was natural and beautiful
This blind beast conquered meadow and stream
Banished the fish from the seas
Left a trail of barren concrete and tarmac
Filled the air with odious gases
Eventually the beast conquered the earth
Now master of a dead and lifeless planet
A world that nature, maimed and bleeding
Finally abandon to allow the beast to slowly die.
 
No Words To Say.

I’m a poet with no words to say
wandering a world of sorrow and pain
lost in catastrophes played like a game
short visions rule the day
Mountains of money piles of poverty
lost in a sea of swirling illusions
wars a natural road to walk
death and destruction a way of life
ringing in my ears songs of poverty
melodies of marauding deprivation
I have eyes that see ears that hear
a dictionary in my mind but
I live in a world beyond their reach
I’m a poet with no words to say. 


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