Thursday, January 31, 2019


Takla Makan*


the sands of a desert planet drift higher and higher
a once 30-foot wall now short spikes
one could step over them if there were anyone
there are no people left
to bother about such things
as legal or illegal traversing of the wall
the border
there Are no borders
there is nothing to wall off
the drifts of sands
the dust storms  

no water has fallen from the sky
or bubbled up from the earth in centuries
and so the sand
the dust
blows endless over the featureless desert dunes
ever-changing with the will of the wind
no home for any being needing water

the cities drowned so long ago
that only mountain-dwellers remained
on newly shorefront properties for a time
but no bees
no butterflies pollinate their crops
no sweet long grasses feed the ungulates
no grass-eaters feed the carnivores
no plants no animals feed the people

would they possibly descend to eating each other?
or would they lie down in honor
lay down both swords And ploughshares
and join the ancestors in the Stars?

the deaths of all the species happened
so quickly
there was no time to learn new ways
if the people had any will to do so
which in their arrogance
unrelieved by the stench of the dead
and dying all around them  
they denied
it can’t - it won’t - happen to Me!

prayers and cries to deities went unanswered
as the gods and goddesses turned away
“We Gave you all you needed to make good choices
but you were blinded
by the gleam of gold & jewels
all that you called riches
all that you envied and placed above the Mother  
the Home
the Womb
the Cradle

you avoided the lessons of nature
the very nature you were given dominion over
but you disdained it
treated it as if it was limitless
            it Might have been
had you been conscious stewards
but you depleted it in wanton lust and greed
like unschooled infants demanding
More! More! More!”
considering only singular wishes
ignoring the plight of nations
the breath of Creator made flesh
the dark wet fertile body of earth
she was fenced and broken and raped and torn  
the richness ripped from her womb
and Burned
and Burned

a wise mother told you to use the Energy of Father Sun
or the waters filling her body cavities
or the pulsing goddess breath
the wind
all ever-renewed
instead of minerals limited by time and space
the black blood
the body gasses
the blackened stones crushed over millennia
there Are No More and it’s too late now  
to turn to the Source and ask to be made whole

thus the spikes atop the useless wall
are the only visible signs
remnants of the folly of humankind
who stole the lives of all beings in their childish grasping
I Want I Want I Want
It’s Yours!
for all the good it will do
even as the Last human being on earth
there will be no more after you
and all the art and poetry and music
will be buried in those blowing sands
for all time

Eventually, the Stars will go out.

© 2019 pamela twining

*takla makan ~ you can go in but you can never come out; 
the Point of No Return

Tuesday, January 22, 2019


                                                                                              for RB

this tranquil January morning
impressions of cold grey sojourns
in the windy silence
redolent of rain
          wet earth
                    and mourning lonely
after the crowds have gone

the human spirit surrounds one like vapor
and all that’s good consumed by hungry earth
now the flame of mind’s dispersed

Fall away Fall away
buried beneath winter's mast
like a leaf from an earlier slaughter
the hollow shell of a nut
food for worms

darkens the day
senses fade
experience denied

when the scent of mown grasses
the touch of wind on skin
the color green
no more delight

only then

© 2019 pamela twining