While Oceana Weeps

Humans are skin and bone
and blood and bite.
Our roots dig deep
in uneasy soil.
Like weeds,
we strangle.
A choking planet,
red in her face,
glares up at us
with bloodshot eyes.
"You told me lies,"
she shouts and cries.
I shake me head;
my hands are tied.
While Oceana weeps,
we multiple:
a spider's egg hatching
with seedy spawn.
'We are pretty parasitic,'
said under-breath and parenthetic.
I liken this disaster
to Revelation
only faster.
And there are no pearly gates.
What is the proper fate
for a species programmed for hate?
For beings who need bribery
to have principle?
Even martyrdom means nothing
without sex.
Oceana rages;
she curses and spits.
She's begging you, please,
to find your wits.
But her tears will flood
and her crust will cave in
before we recognize
the mess created.
When the sun stops turning
over our homes and huts
just say, "It wasn't me;
the bitch went nuts."

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Told ya I'd be posting quickly!

And yes, I know it should be "'It was I; the bitch went nuts," but the bystanders in this poem aren't very bright anyway.

This is another poem about the need to be better to each other while (meshing in the Apocalypse...for good measure). It's about having to open your eyes and stop making excuses. It's about the need to stop thinking about Life in capitalistic terms. Whether you believe in Mother Nature, God, or non-of-the-above, it's about the reality of a dying planet and the need to actually do something about it...things that are very doable if only people were willing to sacrifice for it. There's an "I" in the poem because I think a lot of people (myself included) want to help, but haven't really made a whole lot of progress because of disenfranchisement (i.e. what can I really do? and is my small contribution really going to help when corporations won't commit to making any contributions at all?). I don't know what the answers are. But it's about having to do SOMETHING.

[By the way, I recently found my draft for that 'Apocalypse' poem I was working on a year ago and...it's a lot better than I remembered, so I may get back on that one soon.]














"These tides sweep us out of reach." Sparta While Oceana Sleeps

"And you were too busy steering the conversation toward the Lord to hear the voice of the Spirit, begging you to shut the fuck up." Pedro The Lion Foregone Conclusions

"The bitch went nuts. She stabbed my basketball. And the speakers to my stereo. She called me 'cunt,' but nothing prepared me for what I found when I came home. Oh and I made my own bed. I lie in it. You lie in yours. You lie, you lie, in yours. But they want more, they're at my door with torches. Please leave me alone, you know. Just shut it. Just shut it. Just shut it. The bitch went nuts." Ben Folds The Bitch Went Nuts