Red Dust En Masse

En Masse

Extinctions-elephant-poachers-writingasitcomes

A quiet bake off –
shades of amber
under scorching sun,
are strewn in the dirt

as the skies relent,
a tumult of steel drills
dive into parched clay,

exploding ant relays
are left for dead
whilst treading water.

Raindrops reach for the red dust,
butterflies frantically tango –
jazzing the mid air –

taking hits like bullets
on this fresh, new day.
Changes come with new rain,

warm blood runs in rivulets
merging with the ruddy soil
where no change brings real bullets

driven by merciless, greedy hoards,
hitting sentient, voiceless creatures –
leaving them for dead.

Stealthily, their souls are stolen –
trophies and trinkets are carved
into fractal nightmares.

Thieves in the night
make days on soft, Serengeti plains
the longest nights of their lives.

We are the change that overshadow
fresh rains, driven by greed and guns –
with not enough room to move –

not enough money to lust after,
we need more, and more –
so we make their blood run –

we make it run until
carmine shades, under scorching sun,
are strewn in the dirt,

These long, long nights
are never ending, and will be the end
of their world… today.

New Developments and Old Bridges

First time you looked…
the old bridge held court, towering over a green, blank canvas,
save for the rustle and bustle of splendid leaves;
when the wind was behind them, music played.

Last time I looked…
interlopers festooned the ground, roaming freely,
making noise like only animals can, digging the dirt,
uprooting the trees till they bled roots hanging and crying.

Each time I looked…
they’d replanted with bricks and mortar; creatures loomed large, still sleeping; under their red manes the empty shells would soon thrive and cling to the soil, in a short time their windows like eyes pierced me, all lit up and hungry.

Whenever I looked…
I remembered when the rainbow would arc the sky, pierce the grass
and carry on its journey. I see it now planted firmly between the cold, stone
faces; it stands taller and resolute before springing forth to a better place.

Last time We looked…
we saw the same rainbow holding the same truths and feelings and heavy
load we are apt to burden it with; it is ours and it doesn’t mind caring, connecting, and transporting us in time, our time. Like the bridge, it will probably always be there.

refugeenotes

About my life and everything else 🙌 Inst:@nihilnove

my life as a piece of string

... from a silent space

Letters on my Heart

The Broken Cannot Rise Alone...

Discarded Recollections

A Repository of Discarded Poetry, Story Prompts, and Memories

Lluís Bussé

Barcelona's Multiverse | Art | Culture | Science

The Lonely Author

Pain goes in, love comes out.

Light Touch

Just wondering at the miracle called LIFE .

The Stories In Between

Author River Dixon

Wezzlehead

poetry by Robert Ford

Rachana Trp.

Optimism is the faith that leads to achievement. Nothing can be done without hope and confidence.

Story Of The Footloose

In the end all you want is a pen that writes well and a life that you've lived well.

Megha's World

A potpourri of emotions

pouringtruth

Poetry and words

The Bouquet Gallery

A collection of beautiful things and thoughts

Stuff and what if...

Exploring writing and the creative randomness of life. Snapshots of moments.

Just Brian

"Not all who wander are lost..."

newtoneapblog

A Discarded Plant

A Cornered Gurl

I am more than breath & bones.

MY VALIANT SOUL

My poetry is my religion.

A Blooming Scribe

Poetry, short essays and other work showcased by a Scientist, Philosopher, and Adventurer. Posts on Monday and First Fridays.

Everyday Strange

Dark Writing and Strange Inspirations

The Words of Akunda

The Little Poetastry; The little stories

The Broad Spectrum Life

Exploring Rhymes, Reasons, and Nuances of Our World

Elan Mudrow

Smidgens

David Redpath

We're all on a road to somewhere.

Seductive Darkness

Provocative poetry and musings on life

The Renegade Press

Tales from the mouth of a wolf

MYMonkey MIND

Your Brain is a Radio that Does What its Told

SentientVoice

Encouraging animal advocacy and compassion

Mark Deeble

A wildlife filmmaker in Africa

LOU RASMUS

big book guy

vividlyfoxxy

Just another WordPress.com site

Hearing The Mermaids Sing

At Least Trying Too

michnavs

Poetry by Mich

Frank Solanki

If you want to be a hero well just follow me

ALEX MARKOVICH ART

MarkovichUniverse AT gmail DOT com