Dandelions are ugly weeds. I hope they die before they seed. That is my poem to them.
Andrew Diller > On Apr 9, 2014, at 5:11 PM, Glenn moyer <glen...@earthlink.net> wrote: > > > Long ago, when I looked out my window at Clark Park this time of year, I > would get a tremendous feeling of well- being when I saw the blooming of > sacred dandelion and a healthy diverse abundance of life. I don’t know how > long it takes, if ever, for the Soil to fully come back to life after > corporate biocide chemicals have been mindlessly spread upon it. I don't know > how long it's been since the last extermination, but the dandelion flowers > weren't here last year. And the soil in park A still looks like Death. > > I can’t tell you more about the years of killing with chemicals, which Sam > and I witnessed. It’s a classified corporate secret, and we gave up on > democracy long ago. > > Dear corporate spies, I wrote this poem for my old dead friends. No worries; > sit back and watch the new hip porn on your neighbor's computer; I'm already > on the list! > > > > The Dandelion and the Fall, A Requiem in Springtime > > The predawn glow slipped into my shuttered eyes, > First birds of spring, singing merrily, singing for life, > Oh, wondrous, music of rebirth, the new cycle! > Joyous heralding of the new day; ancient song, calling my flesh, calling my > heart! > Springtime, I celebrate your abundance! > > I sprung up from night time quarters! > Without breaking the fast, my two leg’s flew to the ancient Common. > > Clark Park, proclaimed the sign; a new Business district. > > But trees, worms, precious weeds, humanity, love, wine… > This was my business at the divine Common, like a magnet and metal, I soared > instinctively this morn' > > But wait! Oh my God! Senses, hammering my mind and soul, I cried aloud! > Where have the flowers gone? Where are our beloved cousins? Sacred Dandelion! > > Beautiful like sunlight, deep roots, joy filled flowers, > Life sustaining cousin of man, where are you? > Dandelion and springtime, a holy, a sacred, an ancient marriage! > Where are you? Where have all the flowers of the Soil gone? > > Suddenly, a deep thunderous voice, cried out behind me! > Fear, astonishment; yet I recognized the very old, the very wise voice. > Instantaneously, I recognized anger; I recognized trauma! > > “Viscous two leg! Ape of Death! Murderer!” My flesh vibrated! > > I turned to face the old giant; I knew the voice; deep, deep, memories, > ancient family. > He cried out with despair; from deep within his ringed core. > > “They were my family, I watched over them as every season turned” > “From the beginning of time, I loved them all!” > > Then, the pain switched once again, retribution; thundering anger rattled my > bones! > > “You viscous virus from hell’s lowest depth; you killed them all” > “More than a plague; extermination, annihilation, biocide” > “Why? Why? Why? Are your golden trinkets your soul? Your heart?” > “Why did you poison the children, my family? Wicked vile, ape!” > > Stunned, I could not ignore the unbearable pain, I could not turn away! > My heart knew the truth! This ancient giant was now hollowed, alone. > My kind, my wicked race; we killed the Soil, Mother Earth herself! > Barrels and barrels of poison; indiscriminately, mindlessly, > We two legs killed the Dandelion! Precious and fragile! The children! > > Then, the wise ancient giant, spoke once more. His limbs filled the sky > above me. > Now, the voice was calm, empty, helpless, almost soft. > > “First, you cut down half of my brothers, and I watched, immobile.” > “Then, you spread poison upon the little ones; ‘our upscale vision,’ boasted > the king ape.” > > As if the whole universe spoke, His calm wisdom pierced my precarious soul! > > “Now, you wicked apes, self-anointed Gods, spreading death across our > universe” > “It is your turn for extinction! Death! Obliteration! Biocide is a circle, > you damned fools!” > “Listen closely ape,” he said, as he gazed down upon me. > > “You will never again see the beloved flowers; for all of endless eternity.” > “The children do not swim in the lake of fire; this man-made lake, you > created; all for yourselves!” > > And He spoke no more! > > We named this final necrophilia era, Progress! Power! Paradise! For a sack > of fool’s gold, > We kill! We kill! We kill! > > I wept this day, Oh, humanity! Oh, sacred Dandelion! And I wept some more! > > > > > ---- You are receiving this because you are subscribed to the list named > "UnivCity." To unsubscribe or for archive information, see .
