In This Hour

As we work our way through our busy lives, each moment hell is on Earth for others less fortunate... in any one hour, suffering is extreme and unbearable for a large proportion of the world. Do we notice?

In this hour

Categorized immigrants plod, hands filled with hope

in two directions, with one expression

Muted by dispossession and unsure

whether they will emerge

on the side of freedom, or despair.

 

In this hour

Low flying stockbrokers fall into ruin whilst

corrupt investment bankers

massage their payoffs

from the decks of superyachts

and fondle shiftless supermodels on crack

 

In this hour

Copper leaves drift relentlessly from autumn trees

falling with the grey children, exhausted by Darfur,

tiny amps of current dispersing, lighting out, switching over,

abandoning the world of light

for a place on the forest floor.

 

In this hour,

presidential overtones speak in tongues

tangling sanity to a nest of snakes so profound

that madness always reigns

whilst the flooded and dispossessed share only one word.

Survival

No translator necessary

 

In this hour

hearts begin to beat, icecaps break apart

and species cease relentlessly

as office wall clocks mark time with

the tapping of keys

and nothing changes

 

In this hour

All will be well, and all will be hell

and all manner of things will stay the same

in this hour

Reviews

[Kat]

This is amazing. You make so many pictures with so few words and there is so much feeling in it. The pace is kinda halting and slow, like a summer river flowing all this misery down on a hot day. Cool poem. I love the way you write.

[Amy]

This is well written.
You capture so much truth in this world.
Keep it up! x