Bodies of children, guns more sacred
Lay in heaps on crimson pavement
The future dead, the ghosts of hope
A shattered nation with prayers will cope
.
Pagoda beauty, suddenly soured
Hateful icons, a new leader’s power
Crowded camps, no fault their own
Despair and sickness the jewel in the crown
.
A riverbank country, a holy city
The strong, they steal unholy bounty
The suffering endless, the tears the pain
Beatings in prisons and angry teens
.
Genocide in an Africa black
War and strife, the killing back
Our humane roots tricky to trace
Four million or more lately displaced
.
An unsafe sea, but so few care
The boats they lay on beaches bare
Souls adrift where once was hope
Now in prison, a slippery slope
.
The creed of greed, the play on power
Nature losing by the hour
Where to run and where to hide
When things awry are on the slide
.
For here we are, the oceans rising
Islands sink and mudslides sliding
Icepacks break and ice poles failing
Poison ponds, the rubbish and tailings
.
Plastic chokes, the oceans clogged
Energy dirty, nature agog
Flora and fauna, dying or dead
Forest homes burned, ruined and wrecked
.
So we look to leaders who whoop and holler
Worldly power the almighty dollar
They tweet and greet the doomsday clock
Deny the facts, till all is lost
.
It feels just that way to me sometimes (most of the time) Ian. You’re a lovely poet!
Hi Cindy,
& thank you.
I guess world history has always had its `ups & downs’, & I’m thinking it’s feeling down right know.
We writers are definitely governed by our moods, that’s for sure.
Poignant, hauntingly true, so relevant and spot on about what’s happening around the globe today, and in the US too. Sad it’s come to this. A powerful and beautifully crafted poem, Ian.
Thanks Madilyn.
I did wonder about this one, an unrelentingly dark midnight effort… after reading far too many news feeds. I only hope younger generations can reverse some of the stuff that is going on.