Crystal meanderings on ochre bed
romancing of song from a babbling brook,
a willow weeps, not in sadness, but joy;
dragonflies, blue green, skitty in the sun.
Along its banks, lovers touch lips and kiss
free of the fever of life’s concessions.
Right here, love . . . is
love, not a possession.
Inter-city train,
argh! Rush, crush,
sardines,
standing room.
Smelly armpits, yuk!
Calling at all stations:
Polluted oceans, carbon monoxide, greenhouse gas,
Now stoppin at De-forestation.
Polluted oceans, carbon monoxide, greenhouse gas,
Now stoppin at De-forestation.
We’re all here for the ride
Glued to the fever
living concessions
possessive lovers
hugging possessions.
Trans-continentals final stop:
Depleted ozone, affectionately
known as, Apocalyptic Dystopia …
End of the line.
Julian Clarke © 2017.
Linked to Imaginary gardens for Brendans weekend challenge: Imagaine a Changing Earth.
Linked to Poets United, Sunday Pantry
A train ride to hell, that! So possible, so quickly that it's terrifying.
ReplyDeleteLove these truthful images of a changing world. Nicely done.
ReplyDeleteHow difficult it is to compress geologic sweeps of time in something like a poem -- all of human history here, a least a sweep since 1300, packed on a ride from paradise to hell. Sardines and stinky armpits indeed. I wonder what cathedrals of change we might build if we could just put facts like these in the central altar. Thanks so much for joining in!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Brendan, for your comments, much appreciated. I certainly enjoyed the challenge you set.
DeleteYou really transported me into that carriage
ReplyDeleteI always consoled myself that I would not be around for the last station but now I'm not to sure of that. I expect to see the beginning of the end in my own lifetime.
ReplyDeleteLike Kerry, i didnt expect this to happen so fast. No one did. I love the earth of your first stanza....which it could have been, given a more conscious humankind. Love the analogy of the speeding train with its sobering stops. A poem that hits home, Julian.
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful write this is!!!
ReplyDeleteSomehow this reminded me of a Sandra Bullock movie about a runaway train. As I recall, it stopped in time .....
ReplyDelete"Crystal meanderings on ochre bed" ... I love this line. And the word "skitty."
ReplyDeleteAlso this:
"We’re all here for the ride
Glued to the fever"
Wow - this was some ride and I don't think the last stop will be one you want to see, destruction in the wake of a new world. I have to wonder who is the conductor, he is a master of cloaked darkness.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Truedesssa, mmm the master of cloaked darkness, now there's a great prompt. Pleased you enjoyed it.
Delete"Crystal meanderings on ochre bed" .... *swoon*
ReplyDeleteWell done....I applauded all of it and loved the stops....the end was perfect and was sobering.
ReplyDeleteCalling at all stations:
Polluted oceans, carbon monoxide, greenhouse gas,
Now stoppin at De-forestation.
Thank you, Donna.
DeleteYikes! "...end of the line" I quess...
ReplyDeleteNice piece.
ZQ
I love the opening line and all the stops in between.
ReplyDeleteBlink of an eye. Boom.Great write.
ReplyDeleteLet's keep a place in our hearts were we can invent words like "skitty" and where we can WHOOSH in the other direction too. Your description feels too real.
ReplyDeleteAh, it seems we are fast approaching the end of the line. A powerful poem.
ReplyDeleteVery imaginative I was impressed with how you played withe scenery. Then came the ending.
ReplyDeleteI thought that the 'switch-over' in this, was done brilliantly. An impactful, important piece.
ReplyDeletevery interesting, Julian; luv your structure as much as your content
ReplyDeletemuch love...
I love the juxtaposition of the undisturbed natural world with the train ride. Powerful.
ReplyDeleteoh what a musical masterpiece this was. I definitely enjoyed it on this lazy Sunday afternoon here in the US. thanks for sharing it with us. what joy!
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