THE EARTH DOESN'T NEED US

 THE EARTH DOESN'T NEED US


We are forced into submission 

Battling the forces of an unseen enemy

Unable to see the the clarity of ascension

Behold, the dark clutches of animosity 


Earth laughs in our struggling anachronism 

We are not as invincible as we thought 

Do we work for the earth in selfless aphorism 

Or, falsely think that the earth is naught 





Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

OUR CHANGING TIMES: DOOM OR GLORY

OUR CHANGING TIMES: DOOM OR GLORY Two particularly useful and significant lessons of human behavior that I have learnt in my social progression on the ladder of upward mobility, still habitually gnaws at my intricate psychological constructs. During my early years in the upper echelon of management, I was told by my management mentor, in simple terms, that in any social engineering of humanity, it is the living thing that has the capacity to deceive and lie, and not the inanimate objects that I will be dealing with.  Intricately connected to this observation, is the remarkable ability of  living things to decieve, and celebrate a dance of intrigue and camouflage.  We have developed this art form into means of survival, deception, treachery, vengeance,  jealousy, and unmitigated tragedy. It is amazing how this web of deceipt has embedded itself in the socio-political milieu of our existential behavior. It has become an intrinsic part of our lives, and for many it's a ...
Read more

FIRERASS

FIRERASS  Harry Bissoon 2/13/2026 Mabel, up before sunrise, long before the cock, Natty, crows.  In haste, amidst hazy and foggy mist, she pushes herself to limits anew, to meet deadline, daily vows,   The light shines through neighba Aunty Breto's windows, in an eerie brightness.  It flashes,dances,and speeds into the still darkness,  Look! Mabel laments! She gone again! To roam and suck blood, before light approaches! Firerass she is! Firerass, oh god, is Breto, a never-ending nighttime seeker of gourmet secrets.  Nay,she cannot be. She laughs and talks,day after day, with a face of neighborly goodness.  But yet,  flies and seeps through cracks, in hungry nighttime flurries of wanton, thirsty adventures of mysterious gourmet madness.  Let her go, Mabel sighs. Make your way, Breto! Make your way! You are the village night walker! @highlight
Read more

THE PANGS OF DEATH

Death is ever present, and  like a dark specter of doom, it hovers above and around us, waiting in the shadows to attack and devastate. It is envious of birth, which brings joy and happiness to us. Envious of our struggles down paths of thorns and roses.It follows us, breaching our defenses when and where we least expect it. Maybe this is why some of us celebrate death and mourn the coming of new life. Maybe this is why some of us glorify death and its painful throes of the unfettered release of our souls to be free of the agonizing clutches of life. Maybe, this why birth and new life are lamented by some, knowing of the trials, tribulations, and bumpy paths that lead us into the hands of Death Itself. Nonetheless, whatever views and opinions we hold close to our bosoms, we still ponder upon this dilemma, trying to reconcile the beatitudes of life and death,being fully aware that death is always filled with agony and sadness.  We are children of promises and faith. We are chil...
Read more