Ant

Oh rapid ant,
You are as
Calm and placid
As you are full
Of formic acid.

Why have you
No limit to the latitude
Where you can exist
With attitude?
Though vibrant and industrious,
Thou art an irritant.

-written July 2014

Reign of Darkness

Swords and Clubs
Bows and arrows
Missiles and chemical arsenals:
Surely the hour of darkness
Is upon the world.

Seas and waves roar,
Moon bloodied & gulped by sun,
Stars & sky darkened by  heavy rain-drops,
A chick lays a mere egg
And hackles as though she laid asteroid.
Nations pulverize in distressed perplexity
As agents of destabilization and
Apostles of backwardness
Unleash total mayhem.
World economies in shambles
Security of life and
Property in comatose
Governance crumbles.
Ah, these are days that
Try man’s heart, endurance
Yet it’s all but
The reign of darkness.

These are days when people
Wished they lived not;
In great agony and lamentation
I can hear people wail
To the mountains: “fall on us”
And to the hills: “cover us.”
Their reward?  Heightened misery and
Graveyard silence!
The gods have ignored
And despised creation.
The wealthy  intensify their search
For another and safer planet.
I hear them murmur “let’s leave the poor
On earth to perish.”
But lo, whence and
Alas it’s only a mirage, as
It’s all but
The reign of darkness.

                           -written August 2012

Ode to fall

Fall. Did your name emanate
From everything falling?
That ought be sad as part of you turn & die, as
All the leaves fall from the tree, leaving the branches
Bare against the bitter windy cold.
Rather it seems the leaves & everything else blush
And beam with strange but brilliant & colourful beauty.
As if to say to the ground: Falling, yessss,
Am falling in love with you.

This poem was recently featured in Manitoba Hot, Travel Manitoba’s blog.

Anarchy

Falcon, falcon, oh falcon!
Bird of prey and messenger,
Most obedient to human voice.
A peace instrument, yet fierce in otherwise,
Now no more do thee heed the falconer
But flirt the flute of the gory.

Oil in the canvass,
And sand in the pipelines.
When shall peace
Betroth our earth;
Perhaps, no more shall
Ears eavesdrop the tidings
Of the Garden of Eden.

Me think the Bushman
Has since Blaired up
And now may be Harpered
As things fall apart.

                              -written April 2006