Bleeding Selfish

                                            Indonesian rainforests-Writingasitcomes

A rumble of silence creeps
into the veins of
tangible pain, numbing senses
temporarily
while corruption still tortures.

Our touch contaminates
until we sicken
nature’s soft noise –
drowning against
humanity’s sonorous roar –
animals need to sleep
amid our mess.

Tribes and wildlife and ecosystems need to exist –
amid our mess, not endure enforced extinction.
We have made some
of the biggest mistakes
of our existence.
But we are who we are,
and mistakes will happen
until we are no longer here…
amid our mess.

Red Dust 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.

Erosion

“Scientists estimate that 150-200 species of plant, insect, bird and mammal become extinct every 24 hours. This is nearly 1,000 times the “natural” or “background” rate and, say many biologists, is greater than anything the world has experienced since the vanishing of the dinosaurs nearly 65m years ago.”

Is our sole purpose
to contribute
to the epic verse
of the universe?
Or to document
in written, raw emotion
like stepping on
emeralds in the sand?
My dreams harden,
and sparkle
inside of geodes’ imaginations.
With the right mix of erosion and stress
earth’s natural sandstone
of arches and columns,
come into their own,

also eroded by tears
and mammoth tusks and hard shoulders;
rocks rubbed to a fine polish
stand mile high,
and
of long ago,
A time unknown
to our bare feet, till
we, the intruders,
came and made them
lost.
History will repeat
itself –
and extinction’s epitaphs
will be made.
But slow the pace of this
manic and unnecessary, beating drum.
Survival and intellect,
tribes and competition,
greed and capitalism,
humanity’s neo morals.
We are all a part,
we are the rhythm,
But without a heart
(Ecosystem)
We are nothing.

It Will End with Us

A ton of wealth,
Kingdoms come and go.
Hatred and vicious swipes
rule today’s world,
obliterating the love,
tearing at faith –
the faith we have in ourselves.
Oceans rich in abundance,
overwhelming us,
are overwhelmed
with our filth
and disgust –
as much as we are disgusted
with humanity.
Just stop pillaging
and polluting
and take
the chance
we could leave
this planet whole

 REGARDLESS

of the current dictators
that rule its waves.

Monsters and ‘Artists’ #Haiku

For Haiku Horizons prompt ‘File’.

Piles of single file
Each yard a pace to slaughter
Carvings have no soul

Marionette

(Published in Winamop magazine, 2016)

Twisted fibrous strings
command frivolous play
at jointed limbs.
We dance and are jigged –
woefully rigged
when each jarring movement
is in turn deliberately
fraught with venomous tugs –
Each jolt brings attempted revolt,
but the puppeteer snarls –
our lifelines become gnarled,
entangled in his bitter torture.
Unravelling his capture he spins
and mocks until we are unmeshed
in shock – ’til we don’t know if we are
coming or going.
Wooden shoes clatter,
when smaller figures, who don’t matter,
play to an audience
and bleed
into the pockets of the puppeteer’s
greed.
Swift but doleful we have become,
dancing to the puppeteer’s hum.
Lifeless, hung out,
no route of escape.
We dance and we clip clop
a charade
man made, pulled
and lulled along
by a succession of tyrants
who just want
to see us wriggle
and squirm like
the moth eaten marionette –
always ruled –
once unfurled.

The Normalisation of Lies and Crime

In a time of universal deceit – telling the truth is a revolutionary act – George Orwell

Rib cages burn
with the pollutants of politicians
curled inside their darkness.
Inside of ours, conscience and despair
battle it out –
defending ourselves against the brutal
and cowardly thumps to our innards,
bruising softer organs
so injuries cannot be detected
on the outside.
We take these jabs and kicks
with every breath we breathe,
when we’re forced to inhale
greed
and sickening philosophy
and ideology
and the stench of populist autocracies –
for shame, more weak minded people are
sucked in.
We are loathe to breathe
this putrid air – its stench
is rapidly suffocating us,
snuffing out normality
and decency
and civility
and humanity,
keeping in line with policies
deigned to compromise us
and the air we breathe,
and water that runs clear
and life as we know it.
Don’t let them win
and destroy your life
and the future
and the lives of billions.
and the truth.
Fight for your right to cleaner air…
and the rest.

Downside Up

Picture Source: Egon Kronch

Let me swim in your moonlight
take the plunge in shallow breathing
drifting
one, two, three, four
and float back to you
to exhale

Let me paint you a flower
you can hold for your own
colours
of lilac, yellow, orange
bleeding a river
to merge

Let me be your oxygen
like your heart’s fluttering wings
feathers
rising, spiralling, soaring
to live

Let me worship you
be not false nor made of stone
humanity
selfless, compassionate, empathetic
to be