extinction

Callum Featherstone

Relief, awaited.

When dodecahedron bombs fall;
will you be my buried and sturdy shelter?
When cohesion is trodden to asphalt;
would you wage pitched and bloody welter?

Breakfast,
served at his majesty’s pleasure, often ladles out food for thought…
The menu – provides;
convicts, politicians, businesspeople, and, royalty,
with plenty to discuss…
Such as, ‘do the high and mighty ever dream of tasting prison porridge, as they commit high crimes, whilst they starve and cull the poor?’
And, ‘can beggared worms chew through royal lead-lined coffins from a dead beggar’s ulcered stomach sores?’ Yet, what lies in the unasked? The public inquiry into corrupt power, like lunch, awaits.

Relief without a branch
to cling to. Bare, shaken,
but, also, beyond agonising
disbelief. Avalanche met Alpine
Firs; a collage of bitter viridescence – often mistaken,
as, not life, but, death, imitating art.

What a relief!!
That’s the “good stuff”;
the pinprick and the poison-pill…
The Medicine Men have long traded in shady deals,
of jabs and hooks,
wearing labcoats lined with vaccined, pain-killing schemes.
Patiently making case studies of us all,
all the while,
toasting, our declining health,
along with silent, complicit and sickly governments.
Sláinte!

Encrypted night;
puzzling and studious, awaits
us all,
along with an unshrinking denial,
a half-blinked eye,
a non-thinked; why?
And, a nihilistic sigh. It is all, so…
insalubrious.

Awaited relief of a final breath when no more lies can be proferred no more lines can be crossed or excuses offered no more questions unanswered no more victims no more cancers no more derision and pain due to another’s conceited vision and gain no more losers no more winners no more abusers or willers of forgiveness.

Just peace; unreplicated.

And, relief, no longer, awaited.

When dodecahedron bombs fall;
will you be my buried and sturdy shelter?
When cohesion is trodden to asphalt;
would you wage pitched and bloody welter?

Callum Featherstone

Pink.

In this;

beguiled reality

avarice makes mincemeat of charity

and conceit fucks vanity.

The sick and the needy

die at the hands of the greedy.

Death by hate filled hearts;

scolding via network

scaffolding.

All the while, living in

wholly

indecent matrimony;

wedded by insanity.

“History always repeats itself.

History always repeats itself.”

A war of roses; red and white

without their heads

soon lost sight.

And stem of green then realised;

roses without petals

aren’t needed

nor recognised.

Angry is the blood.

Broken is the bone.

Nothing good can come from

a world wide webbed

throne

where lies are spun from.

And when all is said and done

it seems even odd to; think?

Before your actions

become

the difference between warring factions

and your essence becomes

on the brink

of existing.

Is this;

existence masquerading as extinct?

Or is this,

really;

extinction pretending

to be

in the pink?

Callum Featherstone

Nature versus Torture

The natural landscape is an elderly, insightful shaman.

Each rugged ridged mountain top, swell within the ocean, jagged nettle, cracked tree stump and dancing desert is a wisdom filled wrinkle, thought or expression.

The ritual undertaken by nature combines meticulous process, indefinite time and arduous repetitions. Yet, the arrogance of the human race – the young pretender – mistakenly and pompously believes to know better than nature.

If you really take a minute and think about what our planet is telling us then you would realise what it’s relationship with us has turned into.

That of a hero toward a villain.

It’s only option left is to destroy us before we harm our hero and it’s universe any further. Rising sea levels, rising world temperatures, natural disasters, wildlife extinctions and crop failures… (the list goes on) all point to one thing;

the planet must extinguish that which destroys it.

It’s enemy.

Us.

Unless, of course, this youthful pretender learns from it’s hero…

Learns that process, time and repetition are valuable within nature. Learns that nature, in turn, is valuable. Learns that nature can live without humanity but humanity cannot live without nature.

And, most importantly, learns that although we foolishly teach one another that it is never too late to change, it is too late for us to change the permanent damage and atrocities we have caused to our hero, our planet, our Earth.

However, there is still a chance to rectify further damage; if we care for nature the way nature cares for us. And, our every morsel of being.

Don’t be a fool or young pretender.

Be a hero.

Be nature.