Rebel Poems Anthology #1

Heart-Burning-World
by James Dai

 

The world is burning– spinning– whirling– crashing–

With greed and hatred: shadows of delusion.

It all starts with the heart: which– always clinging

To name and gain, fame and fortune (illusions)–

 

Then, killing, stealing– darkness swallows whole.

For evil always does return to haunt:

“To kill another, kills your very soul.

To take ungiven, leaves you more in want.”

 

This law we know, but place not first in view;

The elements fall then, all in disarray.

Air, fire, water and earth– smashed and abused–

Must, in the end, come back and have their say.

 

When CO2 in air we accumulate,

The fiery beams of sunlight have to stay.

The heat, melting great masses of ice away,

Raises the sea, which swamps our earthly estates.

 

Earth’s soil we poison, press, erode, compact:

It can’t keep rain, which runs away to sea.

Sun-baked, sweatless grounds bubble heat– air diffracts–

Rainstorms, tornadoes, hurricanes we flee.

 

From air to earth, from earth to air: the circle

In all directions wheels, chaotic. But–

Take hold, of ship-wheel handle! Reverse, Re-cycle–

*Rebel*– turn evil into good! Why not:

 

Make soil abundant, free, in tree-life wealthy?

Keep rainfall slowly soaking, cycling, cooling?

Then sunshine warms the earth, for gentle fuelling.

Then pleasant breezes brush our faces, healthy.

 

To forests, CO2 escapes the firmament.

Their white-cloud cover, dense, repels hot sun.

Cool shade restores the sea’s calm, even temperament;

Earth’s residents can sigh, relieved, as one.

 

“Don’t harm the world, and then it won’t harm you.

Give to the world, and it will give to you.”

Start with the heart: let go of shameful ignorance.

Put out its flames: this is the world’s deliverance.

 

Sitting Ducks
by Greg Cumbers

 

The unbearable truth

Isn’t showing any signs of slowing

Getting closer to the danger you couldn’t quit

On the gathering storm

Guilt is what you will require

Or another excuse to invest in

Zipped lips

Deny the discomfort

Head in the sand

Turn up the volume

What’s lost

You can’t take back

Perish the thought

And take what’s left

Things are getting complicated

And time is slipping through your fingertips

Getting closer to the truth you can’t escape

On the gathering storm

Guilt is what you will require

Or another excuse to invest in

 

 

In the Fourth World

by A.M. Gouedard

 

Atlantis, Mu, we deny they existed,

Legendary civilisations,

Lost forests,

Old pastures beneath the oceans,

Inundated by ancient flood.

 

Imagine,

all the species gone

since the time we began to explore

in lands beyond our own.

Many more in the last twenty years

with names we don’t even know.

 

Lost tribes.

The silenced forest peoples.

Add their names.

Remember.

They are legion,

in long queues behind our lives.

 

Yes! We face Armageddon

Unless we change.

Only the few will remain.

Take a warning away from this day.

 

People in future times

will say we didn’t exist.

We will become a myth,

a sad story of greed and grief

and the crime of disbelief.

We will become a myth.

We will become a myth.

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