Categories
Poems

What Are Islands

“What Are Islands” is a poem that warns of the dangers that accompany the continued destruction of the environment.

The_Triumph_of_Death_by_Pieter_Bruegel_the_Elder
Pieter Bruegel the Elder – The Triumph of Death, c. 1562

What are islands
but the very branches of the earth
rising up to break the waves?
And what are pits
But little scalloped holes
Where bats may live,
as they do in darkened caves?
What are these features, high and low,
But the merest bumps
Upon a sphere so smooth
That but a small ways up
From its brilliant atmosphere
These ridges and declines
Vanish into a sleek and satiny luster?
I’ll tell you now.
These islands and these pits
They are our home:
The verdant forest,
The yellow plain,
The milky fog
The chilling rain.
They are our home.
We have no other
On which to roam,
We have no other
To explore
From mountaintop
To ocean floor.
And if we throttle
This pretty planet
If its cerulean face turns grey
Still the sun
Will descend at dusk
And still the sun
Will rise at day
But all those things
That make life happen
The birds, the bees
The air, the trees
Will be killed by cement
Or disease.

Categories
Limericks Poems

Sunday Limericks

The ouroboros is an ancient depiction (often of a dragon or snake eating its tail) which represents circular motion, completeness, or infinity—particularly with regard to the cycle of life and death.

Serpiente_alquimica
In 1478, Theodoros Pelecanos produced a copy of a medieval texts and illustrations.  One of these illustrations was the ouroboros above, whose actual origin is of unknown provenance.

∞ Ouroboros ∞
There once was a warbling bird
Whose song was the sweetest heard
It would brighten the day
In its melodious way
Till it was devoured by a cat who purred.

There once was a tender cat
Who was petted wherever he sat
He purred and meowed
And was often quite loud
Till he was killed by a child with a bat.

There once was a man at his ease
Who was as generous as you could please
He made a better place
For our human race
Till he was killed by disease.

There once was a fertile earth
With life and much of great worth
With each generation that passed
She produced a progeny vast
In ever-evolving hale yonic birth.
∞ Ouroboros ∞