“Mother in Arms”
The world, in its glorious wonder
Will burn down its wretched inhabitants;
Or they shall scorch themselves to ashes,
With their infinite knowledge.
Regression to the former, renewal’s blessing.
The naivety of our progress,
While She slowly suffers from our strife and sloth.
” Mass Extinction”
Life is passing you by,
But these people are not worth salvage.
Thus, acclimation is only by necessity,
For human contact.
Walden seems like Olympus.
Nothingness seems like Everything.
“To Starve”
I just need…
More than anyone can see
I am the Hollow Man.
Listless form of being,
A ghoul, that feeds only on regret,
Yearning to exist,
Yet being undead.
Why has my mind fixated on the end of things? All of my primal instincts are programmed to keep me alive, yet all of my higher end functions, want…BEG for a meteor to come wipe humanity off this planet. This species, so many millennia of evolution in the making to get the epitome that is man- logic, understanding, choice- all wasted by humans so much of the time. Often, this species behaves more atrociously than the primal beings that came before it. Give this rock the right to prosper instead of corrode under a species that clearly does not deserve the right to take advantage of its wonder as it does. Let the red rocks blaze from the sky. Let our infantile species bleed red in the streets. Let Earth sleep in a blanket of dust and glory. Let it rebirth a species that, at a minimum, is worthy of its own habitation.
1 comment
You’re off to a good start, but your poems could use more details such as texture and colors, appeal to the five senses. I want to smell the ashes that remain of humanity or feel the earth erupting from the pain she’s in. I want picture earth in its former glory. For To Strave, add some body functions such as stopped pulse or an aching feeling from regret. Keep it simple and show than tell. Live through your body instead of your head. Keep up the work.