I see man shape
His self-decline,
Tis no surprise
Wants to escape,
This baleful bind
Free of bent state
Of herculean find,
His legacy spent
Now so apprised,
Suffers implied
Thus to surmise
Intervention failed
We’ll not survive,
His egoistic whims
Shaping our extant state!
The die was cast
We’d live a time
But could not last,
In this world stead
We’d pushed so fast
For life ahead,
That might’ve been
What so misled,
We’d end beyond
The too far past,
To fix the wrongs
Of what we’d left,
Thus so chose blind
And visionless,
To what man blurred,
As legacy of cries unheard,
For that of a dead grey world!
ode to man’s final legacy
Who will survive
No man’s land,
Of coerced minds
Duping fellowman,
Into hapless decline,
Thru polluted valleys
Oozing insecticides
And tar-sand’s ride,
Ever fouling water,
Life for sons
And daughters,
With creatures’ toil
Equilibrating nature
For nutritive soil,
Meant for all derive
To simply stay alive,
Hence a child’s legacy
If earth can survive,
In this no man’s land!
Of a liveable world
Once meant for all,
What can remain
Of yet to fall,
With man’s excesses
And phlegmatic legacy
Suffers the child,
Who now has need
Question longevity,
As wary he be
Of human appetite,
Over indulging
Self-serving wants,
Fatedly damning,
The child’s survival!
Poetry on a canapé 