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It is not the gun we fear but the bullet it delivers
Not words that taint our souls but the vitriol
That accompanies them. This is our world built
On conjecture and mistrust. Governed by laws
Covered in cobwebs and the rust of controversy.
On one hand corporate vultures whisper sweet nothings
About a Valhalla called conservation,
while fanning the flames of hell with toxins
and mountains of waste.

This is a society where justice is delivered at the point
Of a blade, where frozen starving citizens shelter in cardboard Towers.
Pitied by men who do little to help, other than
Fence off those aspects of our towns and cities that
Offend the eye. Yakutia Russia isotopes fall to the ground
Like seeds from a helicopter bird.
One more incident, one more scar upon the landscape
that we transform into a scene
from Dante’s inferno.
Every day in every corner of the world man
wields his influence. Beautiful tracts of forest become shrines
of concrete and built by man for man without thought or feeling
for what tomorrow will bring.

We genetically engineer food and animals for greater yield.
Frankenstein in a pin stripe suit and a lab coat,
we move recklessly across this landscape. Fighting, killing wallowing
in blood. Brightly colored pins on maps, a hundred here,
a thousand there. The carnage is as nothing for
it does not penetrate the thick skins of those who determine when
and where their fellow men will pay.
We hold parades to celebrate victory
while in a foreign field the sun glints on hearts carved from stone.
Somber reminders of how savage we really are.
But we show benevolence at least once a year
by celebrating the memory of those
who made the ultimate sacrifice.
Oh would it be that there were
no celebrations at all, for that would mean no war.

We are full of contradictions, our TV screens show
dozens of people trying to refloat a
whale washed ashore. Half a continent away
another of its kind screams silently
as the harpoon explodes in its flank.
Food for the rich who neither understand,
or who one day will look out to sea
And say fish used to live there, look here is a picture.
That day is coming,
it rolls Inexorably towards us on a path built on ignorance.
Where the dust of construction is
wetted down By tears shed for what has to pass.
Man with his global ambitions smiling with ice in his eyes,
counting the cost only in profit and loss.

Beautiful twisted and dying world populated
by greedy, envious, self-satisfying, and concerned citizens.
We bicker and fight, love live and die,
each in his or her own way contributing
to this fragile eco structure.
I have no Illusions about change.
For until the last fish is fished until
the last lion roars. We shake our heads
with professed wisdom and profound Concern,
while drilling another hole smiling
and rubbing our hands together
as we remove another gallon of nature’s blood.

Take a good look round, increased rainfall violent storms.
Water spouts Hurricanes volcanoes.
Now listen very carefully, for what you are seeing is a plea.
What you are hearing a voice,
natures voice right now it is nothing but a whisper.
But given time and the lack of change,
it will roar from the skies.
And mankind will be devoured in order that
order can be restored.
I am no urban warrior but a peace maker,
I would put weapons to one side
And remind others as well as myself.
That we are privileged for we share a wondrous place
where warmth caresses our skin, and old father winter
Delivers change.
It is easy to fall from grace, much less
so to get to our feet
To smile and persevere. But the mistake
we sometimes make
is to act as if nothing has happened.
That signals defeat and the beginning of the end


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