posted January 06, 2007 02:40 PM              

I have pondered long and sadly
what you said
about the certain, tragic future ahead
for a waning planet, drenched in murky, poisoned air
infected by polluted oceans, swollen with rancid refuse
nature's cool green velvet quilts
ripped and ruined

land laid waste and ravaged
bleeding from the rape of greedy gorging
stripped naked of its nourishment
by blind and selfish plunder
haunted by the shrieks of murdered baby seals
and the ghosts of butchered leopards

soaked through with the stench of sure decay
the final gasp so near
it must be measured by the year
instead of by the century

and so, you say, you will not bring a child
into a world so soon to be expired

I've shuddered at the harsh statistics of despair
which could allow this sterile judgment
to find roots in such as you
whose tears reflect the memory of angels running free
through fields streaked yellow by the morning sun
whose ears still hear the carols of their laughter

and, as always
I have rushed to walk beside you on your way to truth
to try to see it clearly through your eyes
you paint a picture of a lovely, pulsing ball
within our solar system
profanely debauched by amoral brutes
who have used it shamefully, for pleasure
and torn its flesh
with repeated, painful nuclear thrust
to father grotesque mutation

who have bruised its fragile beauty
leaving it to die
like a frail, emaciated body
pale and wan
while they lie drunk and babbling senseless songs
"Diddle Diddle Dumpling, My Son John"
going--going--very soon gone
slain in careless orgy
just before the dawn
of Hell

and now I feel with you excruciating sorrow
and share your angry, urgent need
to halt this mad and ruthless blasphemy
that threatens man and beast and fish and fowl

we can, we shall, we must
pull back these lengthening shadows from our Sun
and mobilize each outraged soul
to strike a furious blow for life
today
before tomorrow's lost in dust
don't stop to count the cost in time or coin
when it may be too late
before another dozen Springs of ours
or theirs
have passed

but wait--
listen to the soft, permissive sighing
as erotic lullabies of doom
crooned to lazy, silken melodies
are amplified through spinning, electronic discs
and whirls of flashing, colored lights

look closely in the burning face of evil

unholy masquerader--
who is that
who gazes back into our eyes
with smile so bright
his hair so fair and golden?

who is that
who sits so tall behind the wheel
to press the gas
and vomit fumes of filth into already sickly air?
who dares to multiply himself into a hundred thousand devils
swinging in a frantic, frenzied dance of death
dumping trash in the streams of Michigan
to keep Ohio clean?

burst a bag of shiny dreams
see how white the toothpaste gleams?
break it, smash it, spit out cans, stain the sands

who dares explode hydrogen hate
deep inside the bowels of earth
stirring sleeping giants
to stretch awake beneath the soil, unseen?

who hides behind screaming banners of progress
bulldozing flowered meadows, slashing trees
clubbing wildlife, grabbing pasture, faster--faster
plaster billboards, spread cement
for countless millions of polished beetles
blasting down the midnight roads
groaning under loads of drugged and singing
saints of sin?

who dares excite the fire that lights the fuse
on the time bomb of a billion random seeds
sprung from the sensual loins of lust
adding wanton procreation to destruction?

who is curious, yellow, for topless, bottomless, mindless sex?
are not insane, lewd scenes of human violation
as much a crime
as those against her pure and spacious skies?
she, remember, also a virgin
proud of purple mountain majesties
and amber waves of grain

look fierce into the face of evil
see how he wears a crwon of crimson roses on his head
to greet the newly wed
and nearly dead
on their journey into Nothing

how dare he imitate your blameless, honest features?
how dare he call with carefree voice to sound like mine?

look hard into the glittering eyes of evil
be sure you see

his face is you--his face is me

belching blindly in the market place

call the vile and vicious stranger in our midst
by his rightful name, with shame
for only then
will Truth come crashing through the constellations
in time to turn the tide
and only then
can we make fresh clean winds blow once again
across the snowy mountain tops
of this dying earth

posted January 06, 2007 02:58 PM              

Empty

while you're out there wandering on the wind

darling

what are you thinking
what are you feeling
what are you seeing
what are you hearing
what are you smelling?

and how can you do all those things alone
without me to do them with you?

I ask you this, in these words
because I read them tonight
in a letter you wrote to me last spring

now I send them back to you
your own words
with just these few more of my own

...there's such an emptiness beside me now
where you used to be
you left a space too large to fill
with any kind of happiness