Terminal Case

Now this really is a most interesting case

But I’m sorry to say we’re losing the race

To halt the infection, it’s spreading too fast

The way things are going the subject won`t last

We’re dealing here with a most virulent strain

As you see the life signs are all on the wane

This must be the worst case that we’ve ever seen

That’s why we are keeping it in quarantine

The parasite is quite a devious one

By disguising itself as a symbion

It managed to spread undetected with ease

It just wasn’t recognised as a disease

But when it was ready it raised its vile head

From then on the subject was as good as dead

The parasite then launched a ruthless assault

On all natural functions almost without fault

But it multiplies with such alarming speed

Devouring its host with insatiable greed

I’m sorry to say there’s no cure we can find

This world has a terminal case of mankind

A New Catastrophism for a New Era

During the 1930s a small group of Polish poets, associated with Czeslaw Milosz, became known as the Catastrophist school of poets. Aleksander Fiut explained in World Literature Today –

"the inevitable annihilation of the highest values, especially the values essential to a given cultural system. . . . But it proclaims . . . only the annihilation of certain values, not values in general, and the destruction of a certain historical formation, but not of all mankind,"

Terrence Des Pres, writing in the Nation, states –

"political catastrophe has defined the nature of our . . . [age], and the result—the collision of personal and public realms—has produced a new kind of writer. Czeslaw Milosz is the perfect example. In exile from a world which no longer exists,... , Milosz deals in his poetry with the central issues of our time: the impact of history upon moral being, the search for ways to survive spiritual ruin in a ruined world."

The "central issues" of the time of the Catastrophist poets were the political and philosophical upheavals leading up to the outbreak of the Second World War and the writings of this group of poets ominously foreshadowed the horrors of that conflict. The world was dealing with the repercussions of the Great Depression - mass unemployment and social deprivation, the rise of extreme national political movements and authoritarian governments. The Catastrophist school of poetry was a reaction to a growing sense of global anxiety and fear for the future.

The central issues of our age are many and varied. We seem to be living in an age of crises - economic meldtdown, over population, climate change, water shortages, food shortages, peak oil and peak everything else, species extinction - the list just seems to keep growing...

During the Cold War we all lived with the constant threat of nuclear annihilation. The likelihood of the Mutually Assured Destruction of an all-out thermonuclear exchange may have subsided but many other potential catastrophes are waiting in the wings. A new antibiotic resistant superbug released by accident or by design could unleash a catastrophic pandemic to ravage the world population. Recent erratic oscillations of the global climate system could precipitate an abrupt climatic shift into a new northern hemisphere ice age or runaway global warming. UG99 black stem rust striking major wheat producing regions, extinction of the honey bee through Colony Collapse Disorder or the general increase in extreme weather events could cause a dramatic drop-off in global food production leading to mass starvation, famine and general chaos and anarchy. The current plateau of oil production could at any time begin the inexorable slide down the back slope of Hubbert’s Peak leading to an ever increasing shortfall between supply and demand in turn leading to global recession and poverty, falling food production and famine and increasing political unrest and resource wars. Then of course there are Nature’s wild cards - Mt Everest sized asteroids like the one that caused the extinction of the dinosaurs, super volcanoes like Mt Toba which took out 90% of the human population 70,000 years ago, Coronal Mass Ejections from our sun like the 1859 event which scientists believe was powerful enough to wipe out our satellite network and fry the global electricity grid plunging the world into a darkness from which we may never recover.

We are in a new era of Catastrophism.

‘The End of the World As We Know It’ does not have to mean the end of us as a species. We are living in a house of cards. If you take out a card, whether that be the oil card, the food card, the electricity card or the economy card, the result is likely to be the same. The whole precarious construct will come crashing down around us and the survivors will wake to a very different world.

The planet does NOT need saving, it has taken care of itself for billions of years and will continue to long after we fade into history.

What we need to save is us... from ourselves.

The only question is; do we deserve it...?

Morbid, Who Me?

There is a question

I have been asked

now so many times;

I’m always asked

why do I have to

write depressing rhymes?

These people say

that I should write

of pleasant happy things,

Describing pretty

flowers and

the way the songbird sings.

They ask me why

I cannot write

of love and peace and joy,

Portraying laughing

children playing

with a favourite toy.

They say that I

should tell of all

the beauty of this land,

I try to give

my answer but

they do not understand.

The reason is

so clear to me,

why can’t they realise?

I cannot write

these things for then

I would be telling lies.

The sad fact is

this world is full

of hatred, war and pain,

A world in which

the children are

locked up and go insane.

They dug up all

the flowers, shot

the birds out of the sky,

I cannot write

of beauty as

I watch that beauty die.

One Question, Lord

Lord, I know I’ve never prayed

And I really don’t know how

But I feel there is a question

That I have to ask you now

The bible says you made this earth

From the void in just six days

Then displayed your love of beauty

In a myriad different ways

You started off creating time

By dividing day from night

And set the eternal cycles

With the darkness and the light

On the next day of creation

Your great wisdom you did show

Dividing vapours up above

From the waters down below

On the third day you continued

Separating land and sea

And set the plants to grow there-in

In a vast abundancy

On the fourth day you decided

On a focus for the light

You made the sun to watch the day

And the moon to rule the night

On the fifth day you created

Fish to swim the lakes and seas

And birds to fly upon the wind

And nest within the trees

On the last day you excelled yourself

Making beasts to roam the land

Be they crawling on their bellies

Or upon their legs to stand

Now, I know you will not like this

But there’s something I must say

I think you made a big mistake

On that sixth and final day

It’s a shame you were not happy

With the beauty of this land

For you blew it all completely

When you formed from clay a man

On that day you made a monster

Filled with anger, greed and hate

And he set about destroying

All the work you’d done to date

He is killing off your creatures

At a truly frightening speed

And the only reason for it

Is his never ending greed

He pollutes your seas and rivers

And he doesn’t seem to care

That the life-style he is living

Is now poisoning the air

In his task he is relentless

Destroying all things in his way

He can now reverse your process

Of creation in a day

If things carry on much longer

It won’t matter anymore

That the world is slowly dying

He’ll destroy it in a war

So Lord, I now beseech you

Will you listen to my cry?

I only have one question

And that question Lord is... 

                                       ...Why?

Poppy Petals

Lonely dripping scarlet tears

Spread their stain across the years

Silent rivulets of blood

Go unnoticed in the mud

Blood stained crosses stand in rows

As the single bugle blows

Poppy petals in the breeze

Hide the unseen agonies

By the rusty barbed wire fence

Water fills the empty trench

Where so much young blood was spilt

And yet the guilty feel no guilt

God Save the Children

God save the children

From the troubles of this life

Shield them and protect them

From the heartache and the strife

God save the children

Dry their tears when they cry

When the world mistreats them

Do not turn a blinded eye

God save the children

Cold and lonely in life’s rain

Shelter them and feed them

They just don’t deserve the pain

God save the children

Do not listen to the lie

Of those who’d exploit them

Do not let the children die

God save the children

All our hopes they will fulfil

Some-one has to save them

As no-body down here will...

Mice or Men?

You may call this life a rat race

But to me the only rats

Are the ones in spangled uniforms

Or suits and bowler hats

The rest of us are only mice

All chained to life’s tread-mill

While the rats ride on the gravy train

And eat and drink their fill

They are living in the manner

They have grown accustomed to

While the masses pay in blood and sweat

For the lifestyle of the few

They enjoy all of life’s comforts

Never wanting for their needs

While the masses live in penury

Victims of their leader’s greed

To them our fate is just a game

As they play dice with our souls

The masses are expendable

To their power crazy goals

And when the final war arrives

They will be the first to hide

In concrete bunkers down below

While the masses burn outside

Don’t you think it’s time to show them

Whether we are mice or men?

We should put the rats back in their cage

And then try to start again

A Painful Video...

 My first attempt at a video poem.

A Painful Truth (from Apocalyptic Visions)   >>>>> WARNING <<<<< 
Content Advisory

Contains some disturbing imagery so do not watch if you are

 of  a nervous disposition or easily upset by images of death

>>>>> +++++++ <<<<<

Savage in a Suit...? (More like Savage in a Hoodie!)

Here is a poem I wrote many years ago in the early 90's exploring how easy it is for so-called 'civilised' society to slip into savagery. After watching the news all evening and following #londonriots on Twitter I think I should rename this piece 'Savage in a Hoodie' instead, although these mongrels are not fighting for survival, they are 'fighting' for Nikes and plasma tv's!

Some people consider my poems to be too dark, morbid even. Maybe they are but I only tell it as I see it. I see nothing to be gained by sugar coating the truth, even when it is a painful truth. When you add it all up; the financial crisis, the food crisis, the climate crisis, the water crisis, the energy crisis, the resource crisis, the population crisis - is the world not a dark and morbid place? Still, no need to get depressed about it. I'm still an optimist, even though I know awful things are going to happen...

Some-times it really sucks to be right...

Savage in a Suit

You think you are so civilised

But it is time you realised

How easily cracks can appear

In your so finely groomed veneer

We’re just a couple of meals away

From anarchy, so experts say

I’m sure you doubt this can be true

So I’ll try to enlighten you

The basic instinct in us all

Before which all the others fall

Is that to keep yourself alive

At all costs you have to survive

Imagine now some future date

When all the world’s long pent-up hate

Erupts into the final war

The Establishment exists no more

The things you take for granted now

They are no longer there somehow

No petrol for your fancy car

Well, am I getting through so far?

No food will reach your local store

Your power and water flow no more

Gangs and looters roam the night

Now there is no electric light

But things will go from bad to worse

With worthless money in your purse

No matter, there’s no food to buy

And anyway, the end is nigh

Soon shortages will start to bite

Out on the streets the people fight

For any food that does arrive

Remember, they have to survive

At first the law enforcers try

But soon they start to wonder why

They bother with a fruitless quest

They’re in the same boat as the rest

And that is when the end will start

When our society falls apart

No-one to keep the mob in check

The rats have left the sinking wreck

They talk of concrete jungles now

But they just don’t compare somehow

To millions of our charming race

Competing in a real rat race

Countless starving millions dying

On the streets the corpses lying

And those unlucky ones alive

With only one thought, to survive

Could you survive this brave new world

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When anarchy's flag is unfurled?

Or would you just curl up and die

Cowering as your children cry?

Two Eyes

Two eyes are still closed tightly

To the beauty of this earth

A face still glistens brightly

From the miracle of birth

Two eyes, a flickered movement

As a new life is unfurled

But the wonder of this moment

Is just wasted on this world

Two eyes begin to open

And in wonder gaze around

Youth's bud begins to ripen

As those eyes grow big and round

Two eyes born out of innocence

See the world with rosey hue

Still blind to all the violence

And the evil that men do

Two eyes are filled with anger

As they open to the truth

The mirror holds a stranger

Something missing from their youth

Two eyes now disillusioned

And ashamed of their own kind

In a torment of confusion

Now they wish they were still blind

Two eyes have now grown cynical

Against this world of pain

They've reached and passed life's pinnacle

And soon will close again

Two eyes are quickly dimming

And their light is fading fast

The world about is swimming

As they look into the past

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Two eyes now close forever

At their owner's final breath

In that face like wrinkled leather

Lying peacefully in death

Prosperity Calls

The charges are set
We’re ready to blast
There’s no need to worry
The mountain will last
This rubble is needed
For factory walls
We’ve no time to rest
Prosperity calls

Stoke up the furnace
Don’t let the fire die
Keep the coal coming
An endless supply
We must keep producing
There’s more fuel to burn
The darkness at noon
Is not our concern

There’s no time to rest
There’re more trees to fell
The more we cut down
The more we can sell
It’s all they are good for
They’re dead anyway
Soaked in pollution
To wither away

Send out the trawlers
With wall of death nets
There must be an hour
Before the sun sets
We have to work harder
The only solution
There’s less fish to catch
That’s man’s contribution

The pressure is mounting
Our profits are down
There’s no time for sleeping

Get up off the ground

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There’s so little time left

We have to get on

Why is it so dark?

Where has our world gone?

A Painful Truth

A figure of death

Looms over the land

A nuclear scythe

Is borne in his hand

Wearing a mantle

Of consuming fire

He lights for our world

A funeral pyre

I flee in terror

But find no escape

For all of this land

Shows signs of his rape

Where-ever I go

He is always there

Stripping the land

And leaving it bare

I hear his cruel laughter

A malicious sound

While his victim’s corpses

Are thick on the ground

He’s dealing out death

And pain on a whim

There can be no way

Of hiding from him

But now I am running

So desperate to hide

For I’ve glimpsed a truth

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I cannot abide

The horror flows through me

For now I can see

There is no escape

This figure is me!