I've only just made it out of the depths of hell (I had a weird virus that knocked me out for five days), and what do you know, it's still January (the longest January in the history of Januaries, probably).
Ughghgh.
Here are some thoughts I put on paper in weird sentences loosely strung together by a sense of helplessness and frustration.
One day I awoke,
and the world no longer made sense;
the light that used to give me comfort
had gone dark and tense.
--
It is not easy to be human
in a world that only teaches to consume and
take and take until all the space we have for joy
is occupied by things.
By no coincidence, we are forced to feed a system
based solely on greed, devoid of any wisdom,
put there so the few white men in power and their sons
could stay there.
Mother Nature, tired of crying out in pain,
is filled with a fire that burns angry and hot,
switching up the seasons
so swiftly we don't know which one we've got.
Forests up in flames, islands disappearing,
communities washed away, and not one soul left for hearing
the sound a tree makes when it falls.
...
Apocalyptic, yet - forgive me for saying -
it's not the Earth that will end up paying.
She will overcome our failures,
recreate the land and sea.
The thing that's not clear to me is:
How the hell will we?
She closes more and more of Herself off to us
(who can blame Her?),
giving us all that tough love detox medicine juice,
while we continue to maim Her.
Not "we" as in you and I,
but "we" as in Big Oil, Big Pharma, Big Money.
"We", the punchline in this sick joke
that's not even a little bit funny.
The ladders upon which the rich stand
need, require, mandate, demand
someone, anything
to be at the bottom.
A people, a world, a universe,
or the last black rhino;
as long as there's something to be exploited,
there will be no one to ask, "Why, though?"
In the end, there are no winners in this game
of lying and betraying
and everything we've done only amounts to weighing
each other down.
We are all losers here;
nobody wins unless we stop playing.
