Gaian Lament

turtle-island-marcia-snedecor

 

I gaze upon the plains in saddened wonder
where did my heart go?
you’ve kicked me stripped me robbed me
left me for dead
the wonders once running free
diminish each year
eroded, poisoned, cheaply packaged
my river veins clogged and choked
The People sang and lived lives of homage
with no borders
until penned and shifted and spirits crippled
their songs have no power anymore
even the names are forgotten
who will be left to read the stories
when the dimming light goes out

*artwork by marcia snedecor*
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About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. Not.....me. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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