Rare Breeds

 

A magnificence of feats,

if dear hearts survive testimony,

witness to the ills of humanity;

stubborn as it is smart,

lethal as it loving –

doomed from the off.

If one red breasted heave

survives our test of time –

life has not been in vain.

 

 

A Quadrille consists of 44 words.

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.

Journey #Haiku

Walking though the world
Hand in hand with nature’s dilemma
A cool breeze still blows

Pollution’s Petals #Quadrille

Pour my blood on thick,
slick rivers.
Lay petals on gossamer nets
of human error and folly,
pinned there for all time
on a journey stilled by reckless
acts; all wildlife captured
become ageing slaves in limbo.
We share destiny.
Is this our eternity?

A Quadrille is a 44 word verse.

City

In the city
where the sprawling lilac of lavender
refuses to creep
and smog overtakes air,
cramped, urban
tongues exfoliate,
hands touch fleetingly
and rain forced furrowed brows
make 6pm eye contact with grey slabs
of concrete – only briefly
do we get to glimpse the psyche,
but ultimately only sharing seconds
in each of our different spaces
geared to specificity.
Heavy frowns and crows feet
are perched on fine faces;
commuters of planet earth
to home life and no life,
street life and dreamscapes –
but inside all fighting against global
grime and trains,
poverty, injustice, crime,
the rain and hungry babies.
Once in a while we do all stop
to share the blossoms falling
inside a city of strangers.
.

What’s Up? ~ Cinquain

Clean air,
gone in seconds.
Race with butterfly nets
across fields with jam jars aloft –
capture.

 

Keep badgering your local and central government until they get to grip on industry and look at rhe real issues afloat here.  We have a right to clean air and water.  They do not have a right to extortionate profit making at the expense of humanity.

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.

Can the beautiful game help to protect the beauty of the seas?

More from the Dodo Express. Oceans are vast…but not so vast.

Getting people to admit that fossils fuels are a leading driver for climate change is like trying to get a turkey to vote for Christmas. It just wouldn’t happen. We all love the convenience of our cars, our heated homes, that fake aquarium wall screen—so we turn a blind eye to our own contributions.

It’s the truth that no-one wants to hear…like when Leia realised Luke was her brother, and that the kiss she stuck on him at the end of Empire Strikes Back was, in hindsight, a little bit  wrong! But burning fossil fuels is only one of the factors in this equation. The damage that our demands for convenience are causing to the oceans, essentially the lungs of the planet, is clearly irrefutable. The single-use plastic items that are thrown away in their millions each day often end up in the sea. And the results of this are…

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The Human in InHUMANity

as the needle stuck
the song became torture

is this when we became like savages?
Did we disappear
like the last of the ice age’s
ancient,
purest snow?

We became dried, wilted
potential overtaken by diseases
like consumerism
carried by emerging globalisation
way before when
we were still ankle high to
virtue
grace, kindness,
compassion
love, tolerance,
humanity

now we wade knee deep
in blood.
deceit, treachery,
cruelty,
anger and poverty,
war –
inhumanity’s bones
and severed ego’s
fill graveyards
while we
create
seed beds of
derision

we strip away the promises
we make; some still hang like
rancid fruit,
none for our labours,
none for the babies without mothers
whose cries echo
in chambers;
rubble is not marketable,
but concrete
crumbs are the new harvest

we sell licenses
that fund wars
and injustices –
terrorism
basks where tourism
would like to be
and we franchise
greed and ambivalence;
bloodied artefacts
sells on stalls
in high end cultures,
whose bulging eyes can’t see
the horror
for $£€¥
signs.

We drill subversion
and oppression into our earth’s
sobbing, sodden grief –
butchering it
with heavy machinery

we strip it bare
yanking its hair from roots
until bloody scalps
weep and all our selfish actions,
and double standards,
fume from chimneys
and the smokers lung of
industry –

vapid excuses rise
to prick holes
in the very fabric
of humanity –
trying to clothe our existence,
up there out of sight
out of mind
just another layer,
flimsy,
diaphanous

we slash and razor burn
and exfoliate
till the planet lies naked
without succour
or so much as a smell
of cold money laying
on the dresser
after
we take
and take
and take
and take
and take.
and kill
and kill
and kill
and kill
and kill.
and watch
and watch
and watch
and watch
and watch.