A splendiferous mallard
flew up from nearby Ballard
Swam around Green Lake
but for goodness sake:
How does this make a ballad?
Persistence in ‘penguinity’
No fakin’ about bacon
Multitudes eagerly eat it
though there can be no fakin’
While some try make it appear fit
here’s the truth about bacon:
Poor hogs maligned
horribly treated
tightly confined
callously slaughtered
Billions gallons of feces piling
bucolic surroundings defiling
In actuality
it’s raw brutality
leering lethality
lacking morality
Your breakfast’s ‘burnt pork’ fuel
(sizzling fat thought tasty)
was ‘raised’ in manner cruel
Conscience clear or pasty?
Hogs of decent life been cheated
due human palate conceited
+)
-feces piling = https://www.democracynow.org/2018/9/13/nc_lagoons_hold_billions_of_gallons
The alarmist as a leaf
Just hung on the tree
did a green leaf
seemed happy & free
beyond ‘beleaf’
Was ‘leafing it up’
just blowing in the wind
brimming its life’s cup
in sunlight widely grinned
Then from clear sky a tear
fell on its body, wet splash
happiness turned to fear
by a single raindrop brash!
That’s where it went awry
so there goes the ‘treeborhood’
To Heavens it would cry:
there goes my good ‘leaflihood’!
So goes the whining of the leaf-alarmist
in a too lightly triggered, poor me ‘valse triste’
A fair chance when live flowers we’re smelling
Do we barely spare a glance
for Spring’s tender flower
while reaching enraptured trance
when we Online cower?
To seek peace in single pursuit
persevered for its own end
(be it heartrendingly minute)
ain’t that when we may transcend?
Yes, a fair chance when flowers we’re smelling
While squinting online? Case less compelling!
Birds soar, humans bore
Birds’ color schemes
each flawless
distinctly gleams
brings solace
More elating a smidgen
mere glimpse of a Wigeon
or observing a Pigeon
than finding religion?
While birds of all colors soar
wingless humans largely bore
Who is your beef?
Images of their lives short & wretched
then slaughter’s horror for animals
indelible impressions sizzle etched
From where springs our human animus?
Aren’t we bereft of compassion
raising them as mere food ration?
Clearly meat eating replete
with daily cruelty?
Mustn’t chewing ‘factory meat’
place hearts in truancy?
Which goes for swilling dairy
if on human behalf
should we not all be wary
unless a nursing calf?
“But we like meat & dairy!” Good grief!
Won’t you grasp animals aren’t our beef?
Instead thrive on flowing wheat
lustrous, delectable
and the fresh & brimming sweet
fruit & vegetable!
It shall end the same way it did five times before
Our Species’ great distinction
is to precipitate
the Sixth Great Mass Extinction
which just won’t mitigate
It’s been portending
trending since long
Soon it’ll be ending
horridly wrong
Here is what it shall entail
no mere innuendo:
‘going out of business’ sale
in screeching crescendo
Whether found untoward
still Apocalypse
in climatic discord
Then Necropolis
In the final crunch
we’ll be checking plugs, cords
(cluelessly lack hunch)
in vain pounding keyboards
Amidst the climate collapse
all left is to implore
in a last breath bugling taps:
“It used to work before!”
+)
-Sixth great mass extinction = The planet has gone through five ‘great mass extinctions’ over the past some 440 million years, each of which is thought to have annihilated anywhere from 50 to 95 percent of all species on the planet. We are now well into
When life glowers try to dream with flowers
Try to dream with flowers
let them be it all
filling the dark small hours
staunch in rustling squall
Silently thunderous
by winds blown lustrous
frugal while generous
flowers grow wondrous
When our life glowers
try dream with flowers
Mornful seagulls shrieking
Morning dawns intently
on ‘coming to’ human fray
Kind sun rays shine gently
upon yet another day
Way below mournful seagulls
mournful their shrieking earfuls:
Humans scuffle in barbarity
set for yet another drubbing
Shunning of most solidarity
scurrying, our faint hearts flubbing
All this dogged insistence
that we’re so deserving
of a prolonged existence
is getting unnerving
In language
so languid
Why languish
so anguished?
Living until fifty
would likely be nifty
While in the seventies
plenty can go wrong
There accrues penalties
for living that long
Even if nursing vain hope
in starry-eyed sanguinity
ain’t the far likelier scope
to end up in ‘penguinity’?
While what time left just rolls on
until earthly life is gone
+)
-‘penguinity’ = (license) the endearing inclination to believe in a swift take-off – even after in perpetuity having frantically been flapping one’s wings and still found oneself stuck on the ground