A Letter for Planet Earth

I'm back! -- after resting my voice and collecting a fairly nice amount of substantial poems for 2013, I have returned with something of the usual.

Death's greyhound bares it's teeth for me;

Like sweat, the umpteenth fall greys and widens

Elates like the sodden gold hand of Terror--

It's glittering orbit ravelling states across the Settle,

A silvery hamlet fornicated. 

The instrumental pulse coughs and spews

Whilst looking down, elitist as Hell, 

From it's damned down pew, 

Wiping dust from the nostril of all faith, 

The intelligence is overheard and reported to God.

The arch flails like deoxygenated fish in the wild

The hoarded boar wails to profess and proclaim

It's coming, it's coming, and just before --

The sirens beg for the metal quiet of one thousand and one

Silenced, still infants, caught like photographs

Bandaged up to retain in all of forever, 

The amber carcass of deadly smell, the Death gel,

Booms from a drum-skin of tar, the synonym of Power,

And the bunnies and the rats are limbs-half-on-half-off,

Savaged and ruthless with the psychological cancer.

The tumour gnaws, a milk-less breast open-mouthed 

And waiting, the dictator tuts and yawns,

A fascist's way of mourning the condescending muscle motion

Of killing the rabbit, the paw of which could

Sway the moon's tides and the Goddess' hives

The Queen of the Bees stormily removes

And her patients, ill-willed and forged into desperation, 

Solve the shaded puzzle with their tongues, leaving chalk

For the camps to brush them out and retain them,

All of perfect and damned forever.

The human graze, a melodic taunting sings--

I hear it like Trust over my shoulder, 

The b*****d without a face. I am turning over Their rock

Each one individually, and leaving them with one limb

To carry on in damnation, this is their mortality

This is their morals. Even in Crime and even in Loss

This is what they Chose and this is what I Give

And they asked for it to be delivered Cold Inside, and I

Have mended it tremendously in the arctic, this is what they ordered,

Like wishes in their accumulation, I have given what they asked;

Their war is slates on their own blades 

If they do not simplify my efforts for their desires

I have given them Love. They have returned with homophobia.

I have given them Wealth. They have returned with fascism.

I have given them Truth. They have returned with wishes.

So I locate them, like a waving, speckled louse, a yellow lamb,

To their plantation of Greed. Their sentence is Humanity,

And may they be damned with it. For when it is not enough,

May they be the w****s and slaves of their So-Called-Higher-Power,

I hope they are lucky to see a century and the tumour takes out their teeth.