Thursday, 5 August 2010
Two Hydrogen one oxygen
waters gift, clean living.
All that stands, falls, stalls,
the greed of men, deaths friend,
oils black snake, the modern fake;
Whilst cars burn faster this oily disaster,
nations build clean green machines,
old and new,
bridged by transitory views,
crossings we have still to make;
opening air inlet manifolds,
re-timing to top dead centre,
exposing dead head ventures.
new plugs for new generations,
advertising lugs for new sensations;
The World Will,
is all that is required,
a broken cyclical chasm retired;
This unrealized power within.
A future path enshrined,
beyond the dead end tracks designed;
The ease at which energy releases,
Is dependant upon a courage that never ceases.
A hundred men with blackened ruddy hands
forestall a generations plans,
selling all those children out,
with bitter lies and war and doubt.
What is best? 100 less?
or billions left to face the test?
We sit and watch them burn us out
and not a sound, not a shout.
A hand risen and chastised
against those bleak polluted skies;
The wars they wreak upon our scorn,
are built upon our hopes forlorn.
a profit from a body dashed,
countries, hopes, a world left smashed.
And all the while a weasels grin,
for all the shit they've left us in;
Is there a path?, a movement out?
of sullied lives left disavowed.
Can we repair the crippled heart?
that craves the power from whence we start.
A line that Prospero did seek,
to save us from a future bleak;
To conjure future memories set,
islands, lands, this green utopia yet.
"there is a way!".
"a cost required"!
No rest, no holiday's for you,
no future either, 'pay your due';
Retorted darkened bankers bold,
who barked their orders 'bought and sold';
"we will not, cannot, shall not change,
it costs too much to rearrange";
"The cost is high, t'is true alright,
yet payments balked bring endless night"
A choice, a call, for each generation,
we commit ours through 'omission',
a clandestine manipulation;
a hypnotic silence, sacrificing our children
on an altar of a peaceful violence;
Conveniently laying aside our obligation,
to satiate our hedonistic sensations.
What do we care for others woeful need?
when pandering to our own consumer greed.
Meaningless lives cast asunder,
cut away from the past,
futures go under;
We are connected.
A tapestry interwoven,
a temporal history behove'n.
Time honoured freedom, modernities lost love,
venerated guardians of humanities obligation,
which gift? a hawk? A dove?
Ive heard it said that money makes the world revolve,
but who makes capital from fortunes gold,
when no ones left to render assets gained,
because of lies left unrestrained.
There is a path, a power free
its all around us, cant you SEA?
the universal gift of light and love
given freely, flowing endlessly, from above
the sun, sea, wind, tides ebb never to rescind
natures gift to heal our own hearts rift;
an element of endless bounty
a secret source left untapped
in us the innocent trust
a pyramid capped.
Poetry: © Richard Michael Parker 2009
Posted by RMP at 01:09