mother bears us into life
wayward children without regard
who take their mother for their wife
hastening thus their own retard
mother bears us on her back
like ticks and fleas and vermin foul
with solemn patience we still lack
she bears her offspring without scowl
mother bears our mortal shell
Antaeus' blessing and demise
all our hungry lives we dwell
like maggots between mother's thighs
mother bears our scattered ashes
while we her body outconsume
and if we perish ere she crashes
our dust returns to mother's womb












Comments
Even though you wrote what has been written before, it still is different, gives its own view.
Well done!
--
"All art is quite useless" - Oscar Wilde
Comment and I shall answer.
Cheerz m'dear!
--
Bork! Bork! Bork!
(-Swedish Chef)
--
Bork! Bork! Bork!
(-Swedish Chef)
--
Only those who attempt the absurd will achieve the impossible. I think it's in my basement... let me go upstairs and check.
M. C. Escher
In fact, the only thing I really like about the poem it its imagery. The rhyme structure is perhaps my least favourite of all (boring old ABAB) but somehow, that's how it came out so I'm loath to change it.
And yes, we treat the earth with less respect than we should. How can it be any other way if we don't even respept ourselves, neither as individuals, nor as a species as a whole.
Thanks for commenting, m'dear
--
Bork! Bork! Bork!
(-Swedish Chef)
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