Neon noose

The neon world shone through the mist, the creatures called ‘humans’ or more scientifically, ‘homo sapiens’ were becoming like the dragonfish of the deep, deep ocean. Though their physical biology refused to become bioluminescent they were compensated for this by their adaptability and creative abilities.
The mist had become an ocean in which they constantly lived and had planet earth been a sentient being it may well have regarded humanity as its greatest mistake.

Their evolution of super adaptability meant they externalised many traits and habits other animals had inbuilt. With delusions of grandeur on a mass scale, the homo sapiens had no regard for animals, despite being one themselves, the animals in their linguistic headspaces had become ‘other,’ and expendable. Some homo sapiens had come to the conclusion they were making too many mistakes, indeed in one cartoon (something they created with an implement known as a pen) that caught my eye the homo sapien had drawn a dinosaur with a meteorite falling from the sky, one dinosaur looked to another and said, ‘We should do something about that,’ and the other said, ‘We can’t, it’ll hurt the economy.’ This cartoon was supposed to be something called comedy.
The laughing matter is that the cartoon was pointing out a real phenomenon. To the homo sapiens, the ‘economy’ was more important than saving their lives. And I have wondered ever since what sort of diety this ‘economy’ must have been to them that they were willing to sacrifice their lives for it. They worshipped this God called ‘economy’ and the thought of hurting this God was baulked at more than their own demise. Perhaps they believed in some kind of afterlife. They appeared trapped in a hell of their own making, the air was dense with all sorts of stuff they pumped into it daily. But they could not or would not help themselves. I believe they were all (a term they used) addicts.

They had divided such a line between themselves and the expendable others that they ironically othered themselves as a consequence.
They had mind-bending ideas that meant they figured anything ‘man-made’ was not nature, for they were above it or in some minds below it.
But the species were so fractured that although they lived by this principle even many of the homo sapiens who purported to be ‘at one with nature’ would baulk at ‘man-made’ progress and they didn’t see how this was a contradiction.
They figured themselves enlightened and the ones who would take them back to nature and none of them stopped to question, ‘When did we leave?’
Was it when they first harnessed electricity? Was it when they first landed a man on the moon?
If it was the earth that had birthed them in the whole scheme of things, then ‘man made’ need not be excluded from being called natural.
After all, it was their evolved capabilities that naturally gave them these abilities.

Homo sapiens by my alien (alien to them) observations, were addicts who were so out of fear of death.

If Homo sapiens were just mere natural beings then they too would perish, they too came from and were part of the dirt.

The homo sapiens were to the earth what the metallic starlings were to poison-dart trees.

Homo sapiens had the disadvantage that they were harmful to all of the earth, but the supposed advantage was their tendency to be highly adaptable.

But too many chose to ignore the signs, too many chose to ignore the men and women shouting and screaming that the world was on fire.

Because they were addicts.

All for fear of the thing they only brought more of, death.


And now, in their misty neon ghettos, they try to forget their inevitable demise, looking into the halo of a neon noose.

Advent calendar 5: Sunday wordle

Too much chatter with each beat of the heart
anguish laced with anger a match striking against the grain of us
and so we burn along with the edges
our role unknown
like domesticated felines
just choking the world into a black hole
men with guns for fun
not for want of food
and my soul cannot take it
in this haze of all this smoke
looking for a sign
but seeing only the curse
each of our footsteps a roar
upon the earth
silent like a secret
so we can’t see the destruction we birth
and though the world is a hive
in which we live
we damage it from within
predators of the earth
and in the future they say
we’ll be among the stars
consuming worlds out there too

Advent calendar poetry 1: The woods

1st December

In the woods
grounded in rugged boots
stripped from our alienation
we stand
in communion with the others
their tails waving and teeth chattering
and beaks opening trailing out winters breath
Bills drilling, tongues rolling
snapping up a woodpeckers delight
nothing is quite the same
once you realise
even dead trees are teeming with life

Sunday wordle: Beneath our civility a wry grin

I don’t need an umbrella
walking through this pseudo forest
as the leaves lose their leathery coating
blushing red as they blunder
as if embarrassed
by their fall
the elves of autumn
cleaning the trees
while the doves coo and woo
and the Jays covet a squirrels cache of acorns
and I, just a small part of the picture
walk and tumble through
pondering on the permanence
of our damage done like a tattoo
on the landscape while trying to find a place
non human to dispose of my civility
a wry smile hidden by a mane of hair
as I recognise I’m so much more at peace
without that polite formal mimicry.

Lyrics: Our alienation

They should have left me to die
before I
became an abstraction

I am alien. (to be repeated twice)

Alienation
walls
made out of talk
our alienation
we’re abstraction
driven to distraction
our alienation

We are alien
I am alien

or are we
Origami people
folded
and put onto earth
as if we never were
a part of her.

Alienation
walls
made out of talk
we’re abstractions
driven to distraction
our alienation

I am alien
We are alien.

(back to 1st verse)

We are alien

Our alienation.

Angst NaPoWriMo 14

We anchor ourselves to illusions
Desperately hanging on to ideals
A battle between lofty dreams
And the abyss we’re forced to stare into

If we just breathe
And stop beating these primal urges
down into our anguish
maybe we’d be spared
The bloodbath
Awaiting us on the other side
of this Armageddon

If we could look upon the dirt
we try to abandon
With admiration
Maybe we could be held afloat
Instead of drowning
And
we could deaden this angst
That disables us

What have we done? NaPoWriMo poem 11

The wind whistles against the fences
That we put up to hide the menace
The birds sing, and the trees whine
Against the barbed wire trenches
As if we were at war
And on the other side is no man’s land

In our houses built from bricks and mortar
We’re without
And perhaps we are immortal
Shunning all that is mortal
Under illusions that we are moral

And as we hurtle towards our great demise
Some look out of their windows
And come to realise
More death has come
All while we’ve continued to shun
And they get to asking
‘What have we done?’