and the land has turned against us

[TheFifthElement]

Do you see the clouds,
how they press against the hills? Unconquerable
grey like a corrugated shutter closed against
violent streets. No graffiti.
Rain falls in rows of iron bars.
The trees close ranks; their guns are
loaded with pollen and spiked cones.
They think this is why our eyes are weeping.

Do you see the river?
It has hardened like a sheet of toughened glass;
we tap against it
but even thirst is denied to us,
and hunger laughs from the fishes open mouths.
Safe. The red berries are all poisoned
and when we crush them, we bleed.
Grassy blades slice into our hand and feet.

We are not welcome here.
The butterflies beat their wings like a drum
as the armies of nature advance upon us.
Retreat. Fall back to our cushioned cities,
warm homes, and comfort eating.
Slide our flaccid limbs into our soft beds
and sleep. The land has turned against us;
we can only watch it now, and dream.




(for the record, this is not an environmentalist poem, and it is not about global warming, etc, etc. This is a poem about me being feeble and a big girl's blouse.)

[CdnReader]

Your poetry always mesmerizes me, Fifth. So many images, seemingly thrown together.... It's always a pleasure to read and re-read and try to follow the thread of the thoughts that went into its construction.

I was especially struck by: "Rain falls in rows of iron bars."

Well done.

[PrinceMyshkin]

Lately I think you are in a Gotterdamerung mood! I see you marching at the head of a troop of Valkyrie... but then your diction and your images have always had a certain weight of authority behind them as though they were cast down upon us (to switch mythology) like Jovian thunderbolts!

I'm especially touched here by:



The trees close ranks; their guns are
loaded with pollen and spiked cones.

and


but even thirst is denied to us,
and hunger laughs from the fishes open mouths.
Safe.

and


Slide our flaccid limbs into our soft beds
and sleep. The land has turned against us;
we can only watch it now, and dream.

[Virgil]

Well, this is the second poem in a row of yours with a pernicious nature. ;) It's got fabolous imagery though I think it is a bit forced. Every line is taken to an extreme. But it's fun read, seeing how far you can push the next image. I really liked the conclusion:

Slide our flaccid limbs into our soft beds
and sleep. The land has turned against us;
we can only watch it now, and dream.
That is great!

[TheFifthElement]

Thanks Cdn :)

Jerry, I don't know what a 'Gotterdamerung' mood is, I've told you before, I don't speak French ;) Thanks for your comments :)

Virgil, thanks for reading and commenting as always! Interesting that this one seems forced, as it came quite easily where Scorched did not. Hmm. Very strange. But I think I see what you mean. Perhaps I needed to let it settle a bit. But then extreme was what I wanted here, so I guess it's mission accomplished! Thanks :D

[Nossa]

I loved this poem! It made me shiver!
This is my favorite stanza:

We are not welcome here.
The butterflies beat their wings like a drum
as the armies of nature advance upon us.
Retreat. Fall back to our cushioned cities,
warm homes, and comfort eating.
Slide our flaccid limbs into our soft beds
and sleep. The land has turned against us;
we can only watch it now, and dream.

Please keep writing...:D

[TheFifthElement]

Thanks Nossa :D