Poem Hunter
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A Lamentation For The Earth

A Lamentation For The Earth

The chalice is dry
Not a dropp in it
The oceans are dense with oil
The rivers are filled with chemicals
The forests are barren and dry
The people are walking
With hooded faces
The wind has a rancid smell
The carcasses of animals rot
On the road
There are no vultures to feed on them
The meetings don’t stop nor do the talks
While the clock keeps ticking away

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Comments (6)

The people are walking With hooded faces these lines remind me of Eliot's Wasteland...yes you have very succinctly put in the scene of today's wasteland...there is still time if people heed and become conscious...otherwise our children will be the worst sufferers of this global warming...and all what your poem mentions... thought with deep insight... meant for all of us
The title is most telling. This is truly a lamentation. 'The chalice is dry Not a dropp in it' is most telling if my interpretation is correct. I am thinking of religion and a lack of reverence for the sacredness of nature - the earth. So much of what is happening is a desecration.
provocative, prophetic & damn sight reality. this is how many warnings now from mother earth?
Your poem is a musical lament, spoken slowly in a minor key. It is words such as these, placed carefully with judgment and compassion that change perception. Perhaps when the poets rise up the people will listen. A finely crafted poem. love, Allie xxxx
yes the earth clock is ticking away. when it stops, we will all too. good reminder. thanks leornard.
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