Fool’s Gold

I wonder if in a future to come
We’ll ponder on the verb ‘to frack’
If our horizons will make us all glum
At the backbone that we lack

For want of a nail, the shoe falls off
For want of a mind, we act as one
We crumble, shake, allow others to scoff
And squander our Earth in pursuit of fun

My heart is hopeful, half-full is my glass
As protestors take a brave, strong stand
But I’m afraid we’ll fall on our collective ass
Swap morals for oil and sell off all our land!

———–

This week on dVerse, our Swedish bar-tender Bjorn wants us to write dagsvers, or daily verse, a journalistic form of poetry that (sadly) only seems to appear in Nordic newspapers. These poetic comments on current events, maybe with a touch of fun, are a wonderful idea! I’m afraid I’m not up to adding a cartoon style drawing to set off my sardonic little poem, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. And yes, I confess it is on the dark side of funny, but hey, you should know how I roll by now!

Please do go and visit the other wonderful poets who take part in the dVerse community and do, do, do comment! We all love a comment!

 

Frack Off! – dVerse Poetics

Please excuse the poor formatting and whatnot – I am posting this using my phone, so goodness knows what it will look like! Suffice to say that this week’s dVerse Poetics prompt was too good to miss. The issue about which I feel strongly was also very close to my dad’s heart, and since I have spent a strangely enjoyable evening talking about him, it feels like the right thing to do. I don’t have my laptop with me (I am away from home), hence the phone post.

I hope you enjoy this – it was written very quickly, but the pumpkins were calling! I will come back and comment on others’ poems and tidy this up, next week.

 

– Frack Off! –

What the frack are you all doing,

stomping through our field?

 

Shaking up the ground boys,

to extract what shale will yield.

 

But can’t you see we’re ripening,

until we’ve reached our best?

 

Sorry guys, the future’s ours,

there is no time to rest.

 

You’ve got to wait, the season’s here,

the farmer needs his crop.

 

Shut your mouth, behave yourselves!

There’s no way we will stop.

 

Pumpkins, squash and turnips too,

for decades we’ve grown here.

 

Times they change, that’s how it is,

the law is very clear.

 

Power and might are on your side,

for now at least, it’s true.

 

But Mother Nature will fight back,

and first, she’ll come for you.

You’re going too far, you’ve lost the plot –

money has turned your head.

Filthy lucre’s not all that.

 

Especially

when

you’re

dead.