Step Aside ‘Rona

Step aside, ‘Rona
You got another thing comin’
If you think you can pull
The ‘pocalypse I’m runnin’
You got your big mass closures,
got your big mass graves
But you ain’t got nothin’ on Climate Change

You’re an airborne plague?
Yeah well air’s my element
Gassin’ the atmosphere and I’m killin’ it
Float like a butterfly,
Get hit like a gale
Gonna blow your little bubbles off the Beaufort Scale

You got funeral pyres?
I got pyrocumulus
Summer hellfire gonna roll in ruinous
Burn your bridges,
Gonna boil that tar
Virus got a driver but you won’t get far

You’re up the creek
And the sea’s gonna follow you
Storm surge swampin’ out
Your R-nought ratio

Cities’ll sink
And the livin’ll leave em
Death on their breath
But they ain’t gonna breathe it
Two degrees C
In decade 3
It ends with me
And you better believe it!

In a Heavenly Cause

Blinding was the banner bright beside her
True, the tales they already told:
Already twice a hero, twice a saviour!
Wonder not we rallied when she called:

To no more slay, nor spare to slay again
To spill no more new blood for wrongs of old
To no more trim the rot, but trace the trail
Back to the bitter source and burn it cold

So when she broke the seal, we stood beside her
Dared with her to delve the long descent
Met, in serried ranks, the roaring magma
Beat, and bound it back —

But we had spent
A day too long, beyond the mortal seal
Our lives too short, to end in such a quest

The Love that Searches

O Aphrodite! Lend a line that fits
This un-romantic tongue. A polished phrase
The hips! the waist! the face! the hair! to praise.
A poet’s passion for these fingertips

Give me the words to mend a tender heart,
Turn jaded ears, or widen bright brown eyes
Wherein I sink so deep I disappear.
The whispers fit to blush a rosy cheek!

Remind me of the blind, untempered love
That launched us both in song, and let us fall
Fearless and strong, in one another’s arms
Replay that soundtrack, when we had it all

Or else — and weep! — the night we met to dine:
My hard-won words. His script he found online.

First Principles

You dare to study my unnatural art?
Then lift your gaze beyond this mortal sun
To sight the truer light, that stood apart
Before the stars; that stands when light is done.

Ascend the endless stair, to wander there
And scent the sublime flowers of the mind
That set their seeds in thought. Nor cruel, nor kind
The awful beauty of what is, is theirs.

Nor tend the seedlings with a heavy hand.
You’d shatter silicon to common sand
Before these blooms obey a rough command.

You cannot drink ambrosia. Let it flow,
Bend bud and bough where ichor pools below.
E’en in this bower, bow to what is so.

Birth of a Ship

The ship was safe and snug, on solid ground
With cosy chocks along the keel and bow.
A wrap of scaffolding and gantries ’round
And city power running up and down.

The engine block is in. She’s heavy now
Her gears and bearings tested, true, and round.
The paint on every inch of her is proud.
Pull out the chocks, and let the fog-horns sound!

It’s inches, but a mountain thunders free.
A blue mug on the slip-way — dust — debris!
The mass that moves, no human hand can stay.
The breakers waiting, break, and turn away
Under a keel sharp as Eternity
And might on might, the vessel meets the sea.

The Fate of Sword-Hunters

You could not be contained in any maze.
You only had to raise your hard right hand
And lay it flat upon the dungeon wall
To trace a path, inexorable as Fate.
That distant giantess may cut the thread;
You fed the present goblins to your sword.

They sung, in taverns, of a magic sword
Long lost, within a grim enchanted maze.
Rumours of rumours, but you traced the thread
To take a map from cold and wrinkled hand:
A cloakèd man, who met a grisly fate
Waiting for heroes, by a tavern wall.

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The River’s Source

Lo! In the stream-bed    sun-scales glinting.
Grimy, the greed-seeds    set eyes aglow.
Iron-eyed, starving    gold-gorged engines
From the valley view    a virgin peak.

Pink sky arcs over    a pale-grassed meadow
Hollow cloth-houses    hug the fires,
Billys of tea-dregs.    Men talk of patience
Mine the grey eyes    of an old mountain.

Bright-cheeked but earth-blind    new chums eager
Fell for the hill-side    — suckers! Hooked in,
Dug through a dead-end.    Treasure lay deeper.
Shout 'cross the bar    for a digger's dream!

Rings 'round the moon    by near midwinter.
Water, glass-solid    stops the wheels.
From freezing gold-holes    boot-betrayed feet
Leave to her snow-clothes    cold Kiandra.

Entangled

Three rose bright in the morning:
The red, the blue and the green
From mountain, ocean, and forest
Each took a tune unseen

The ruby maid of the mountains
Played on a pipe of stone:
A song of the ice and the summit,
Where earth from Earth is alone.

The sequined soul of the ocean
Tolled on a sapphire bell:
A peal heard low, but forever
A single note in the swell.

The leaf-crowned son of the forest
Strummed on a silken string:
Soft as the light that dapples
Sad as a broken wing.

Note, note and note, together
Met in a burnished bay.
Lay, with the twigs, on the shingle
Spun in the rushing spray.

By the summit, the deep, and the bower
Ears and instruments stilled
Heard, by the echoes empowered
Hope of hearts fulfilled.

Feet on the stones, and the leafmould
Feet in the splashing spray
Met in the curve of the shingle,
Danced for the joyous day!

Three there were still at sunset:
The red, the blue, and the green
Moved as one by the music
Heard in a single theme.

Less than Living

The Elves were proud when conquering
They came across the sea
So long of life! So fair of limb!
They laughed so merrily
When they called us less than living,
Brief and brainless, born to die
Just the fodder for the fire
In a brighter Elvish eye.

The Goblins came in columns, cast
Of shot and brass and steam
And their shake-you-break-you engines
Left us dust and smithereens,
Each a number less than living
Brief and brainless, born to die:
The bloody hands and broken
To the Minds that Artify.

But the dawn comes all-a-sudden,
And a sword in every hand
And we’ll scalpel out the stubborn
Make them zombies where they stand!
Leave them truly less than living
Brief and brainless, born to die
To fertilise the poppy fields
The rosemary and rye.