Wednesday, December 20, 2006

Second attempt

THE END?

Now’s the end of global warming.
We didn’t heed the urgent warning,
Drove our cars and flew our planes,
Overloaded all our mains;

Gas and oil we reckless used,
All resources we abused.
Wasted water and wasted food,
Never thought of planet’s good.

Icebergs melt and oceans rise,
Swamp the land and gain the prize.
Gulf stream’s gone and so is heat,
Now the process is complete.

Never more a summer’s day;
Permafrost is here to stay.
Cold as never known before,
Ice creeps over forest floor,

Hear the crack as branches splinter.
In the new and cruel winter
Rivers freeze, and lakes, and ponds.
Crystals form on the green fronds

Of palm trees in once tropic lands.
Hoar frost appears on desert sands;
Ice stifles all, six metres deep.
And none, not one, survives to weep.

3 Comments:

At 7:36 pm , Blogger CoralPoetry said...

JanZ

This poem is excellent. The rhythm reminds me of Sir John Betjamin’s tetrameter. You have chosen newsworthy subject matter and you have sustained the pace all the way to the end, a feat that JB’s poems rarely accomplish. Have you read this poem by JB? Yours is an updated version -the earth is dying because of man’s exploitation of its finite resources.

A Child Ill
- John Betjeman

Oh little body, do not die.
The soul looks out through wide blue eyes
So questioningly into mine,
That my tormented soul replies
"Oh little body, do not die
You hold the soul that talks to me,
Although our conversation be
As wordless as the windy sky."

So looked my father at the last,
Right in my soul before he died,
Though words we spoke went heedless past
As London traffic-roar outside.
And now the same blue eyes I see
Look through me from a little son,
So questioningly, so searchingly
That youthfulness and age are one.

My father looked at me and died
Before my soul made full reply.
Lord, leave this other light alight
Oh little body, do not die.


Regards,
Coral

 
At 10:17 pm , Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hi Janz or Mamgiowl, it seems we have a shared interest other than wine making.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A Toxic Plot.

To the outer of our beatiful town
I often look with an angered frown,
to a place that once was so sublime
now grossly filled with industrial crime.

It's not a crime in government law
to rape this land that I once saw,
pollute the lakes and streams we see
still funded by the powers that be.

Enormous steel flue's tall and grand
spoiling our view's across the land,
spewing from one carbon monoxide
and from another harmful peroxide.

In the name of economical stability
we rape the land of natural ability,
I often think when I look at this land
our childrens future really is damned.

By Duffbeer :)

 
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