I see the horsemen on the top of the hill
Surveying the evil below them,
Holding back their anxious steeds
Until the clock ticks down to zero
ljm

Gaia is totally ******* -
Her world mistreated for so long,
She has finally had about enough -
Vowing revenge for her mistreatment.
She has gathered every weapon
At her command and flung them at us
One by one:
Fire and Flood and moving mud;
Snow with icy coverings;
Wind that trashes homes and lives;
Ground that moves and breaks apart;
Rain that drowns the roadways;
The changing faces of disease
That replicates among us.
But we refuse to hear her cry
The bombs and bullets ever fly
And the clock is striking midnight.
ljm

to attract bird life plant a tree
hang food from its branches

sit by your favourite window
write your truth in poetry

let silence be a happy companion
as you listen to birdsong

Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                    Draining the Blood of Humans at Twilight


                           A powerful monster //  living down
                           in the darkness growled // in pain…

                         -Beowulf, Burton Raffel translation


In the sinister dusk // they seek our blood
A ghastly enemy // of disgusting thirst
Stealing up from the swamp // and primordial mud –
Well, we stole their habitat // – mosquitoes were here first!

My life has mostly been
Foolhardy and footloose
I hardly ever follow man-made rules
How to experience Elysium's ray
When felonious fools
Govern the pulse of day

Life's waves are packed in a whim
Or waltzing rocket of a fantastic dream
Life spills art into potter's clay
Or the canvas making the painter's day

Life's wagon is steered by fact and fiction
Conveying mysteries and mores
Who knows of tomorrow's scores
When today's order ends in suspicion

Life may be a heavenly enclosure
Rolling round the belt of blessing
Or a dungeon dull and depressing
Illuminating the dooming share

Life of a bird, an animal or a plant
To Nature's beauty lends a hand
Whereas humans commonly defile
Mother Nature's artistic style

Life could be a balloon ride peaceful
Or a runaway ideology generating war
Life tailors tragedy purposeful
Or fashions fortune going far

The looks of Life
Are numerous to fully mention
Besides, I'm not wise
To the entire dimension.

Oh heart of mine be still as feathered quill
like poetry Divine we are well paired, consigned    
Oh self of innermost desire stoke me like fire  
and fill my hub with poetic bliss attire
Oh love, oh love, my dove, fit me like a glove !

Oh joy of my soul bring forth your kiss
in fervent mesmur draw me in and sweet concur  
Oh  jewel of my pine, be my templed nave    
my loyal stave that saves
Oh love, oh love, my dove, your sent from up above

Oh enchanted one immobile as the noon day sun
steady as a rock you stand as you take me by the hand
Oh lover of eyes, lips and ears make room  
for a rose of scented value, I am yours,  
Oh love, oh love, my dove, fly me to the moon

Oh love, oh love, my guy, please don't be shy
say you'll be mine until the day we die.

Why do birds exalt in song
At coming of the dawn?
Unlike us, they never know
If it will come again.