The evil we do

Photo by Steven Wallace

Bare and naked it stands
brown, brittle bark
barren, leafless branches
your toxicity torched it
once vivacious now vanquished
once stately now withered
it waits forlornly to be axed
I feel guilty when I look at it
for I killed it too; unintentionally.
yet, I feel like a murderer
no different than you

No, I did not immerse your ashes as is the custom
I did not want to pollute the holy waters
I did not scatter your ashes on the ground
the thought of the earth being blighted
smote my heart
I did not disperse your ashes in the air
how could I sully further the already sullied
I thought I was being wise
when I buried your ashes deep
under the ground in a cemetery
but your venom seeped into the soil
this tree, a dying declaration
that evil cannot be interred with bones.

Written for David’s W3 and Eugi’s moonwashed weekly challange.

Dreams

Nestled amongst the twigs of sleep every night
amidst stockpiled straws of stolen sunshine
adorned with knick-knacks of living
my dreams lie cushioned comfortably
ensconced within them is my fledgling poetry

Flapping tenuous wings of a new sprung idea
my verse hesitantly will start its lone flight
never ambitious enough of owning the lofty sky
striving to float free of encumbrances
then happy to home in to hospitable hearts.

Written for Sadje’s wdys and Eugi’s moonwashed challenge.

…and the music died

Poised on paper the pen ponders pensively
waits for words to flow uninhibitedly
but my constricted throat won’t let them pass

A sad tune plays plaintively in my head
the notes refuse to grace the white sheet that’s spread
poised on paper the pen ponders pensively

The heart feels emptied of all its contents
the mind is a cauldron of simmering intents
I wait for words to flow uninhibitedly

There’s rain that falls inside but eyes don’t stream
waiting for words is a sisyphean dream
‘cos my constricted throat won’t just let them pass.

Written for Sadje’s wdys.

Spillage

I try to read the clouds
the angry, roiling, dark ones
obscuring the opalescence of the skies
no answer forthcoming!

my fossilized pain spills over
dangling over the edge
aghast and immobilised I watch
as it coalesces and drops in a puddle.

purged but now a hollow, scorched husk
I dither, unprepared to face the empty chaos
then rain starts to fall gently
the crevices slowly begin to fill.

Written for Sadje’s wdys and Eugi’s weekly prompt.

Hunters/Gatherers

(From Glamour UK)

Chauvinism’s foot pressed firmly on the reverse gear
the cycle of life hurtles at break-neck speed
back into the dark ages of yore
crushing progress in one fell swoop

Men! Strut your stuff
pick up the arms
go on a rampage
hunt down dissenters
as well as naysayers
brook no argument
cock that snook
bam! wham!
the sham of civility shattered gleefully
justice will be served
by the barrel of the gun!

Women! Cross your legs and press your knees together
you are being recast
as damsels to be disrobed
and used as a product
your body no longer yours
your life worse than chattel
barefoot with swelling belly; that’s your destiny.

Rights! What rights!
might is right
and how can the right be wrong
bring forth in this world
the unwanted
raise an army of abandoned, misfit kids
then give them the licence to hunt and gather.

Rejoice! Patriarchy rules again
we are in the war zone
fodder for the frontline
should be churned without shame
the darkness of heart
envelopes the world
maniacs are in charge
life is cherished
the living be damned!