Plunderers of Earth

We should die except for death
Our words cannot change
For these thoughts have been
Thought by us since creation

First began, we shall have our day
Is there any secret left
In our lives, these classical habits
Of will and mind and formula?

We should love except for evolution
Our hearts cannot change
For they have been performing
These rites of giving and receiving

Since creation first began
This is what we do, reproduce and kill
And foster a kind of culture
Now we prefer most to consume

And that is why I say
We should leave except for extinction
Our habits that degrade ecodiversity
We take and we offer the cosmos what?

Exactly I cannot say, the greed of children
Who look into the stars
And think “mine, mine, mine.”

COMFORT IN THE IDEA OF GOD OR GOOD

i

Beginning my studies on the first world
Which I had been born, I looked to you
To teach me and greet me with Love

ii

That famous biography we both read
The Truth, of evolution and beginnings
God wasn’t something that came
To our minds naturally, we believed we believed

iii

In Him, like so many other artificial
Dead clarities, fictions invented by men
Like the need for war, dominance, superiority, patriotism

iv

I gave in to sense, to the consciousness in forms
To eyesight, appreciation of beauty
Imagination with music, hearing faith

v

In the sound of the rain, or the
Faint clues of why we had been born
So recently, into such a Chaotic order

vi

These objects of reward, and punishment were
Primal, the dopamine-switch inherently misguided
Anarchic, appearing at intervals of pleasure
The signal of ecstatic songs, the faces preferred
It all seemed a breach of our inherent liberty

vii

The idea that we were free, attachment was necessarily
A device of the character, the role, the animal
Not the soul or anything particularly noteworthy.