Stories of Times To Come
Recent Poetry
of
Thomas Theodore Welborn
Deluge
When the hubris of humanity
In all its bloodstained vanity
Commits its last act of attrition
Send its last son to ‘rendition’
In needless wars of acquisition
Blood for oil and their submission
By leaders lies, deceit, contrition
And their apocalyptic mission
When the last oak of the last woods
Is cut to fuel our feeling good
In our frenetic grab for more and more
We even scour the ocean floor
And everywhere the evidence
Of immoral greed with no defense
The last Gorilla – wild and free
Soon to be no more for us to see
When the rains no longer pass this way
And the dust clouds choke the ones who stay
With rising heat the ice caps melt
Then mass migrations cry for help
With lack of foresight ‘cept for their purse
Mankind will think that it has been cursed
No food or fuel will then be seen
From lack of care for “being GREEN”
When we warned them in the seventies
Of the first Earth Day’s “Ecology”
On April 22nd Nineteen seventy
We all went out and planted a tree
But the counter –attack soon began
By the ‘Libertarian Republicans’
Who fought against us “tree-huggers”
With all the class of street-muggers
The hope for Gaia we thought we’d earned
Was drowned in Neo-Cons’ twisted words
The Corporate Beast used might and fright
To herd the masses to the ‘Right’
Till then it seemed it was but a dream
That once we weren’t pawns of a corporate scheme
Now too late we’ve been awakened
By changes to the Earth we're making
By our own greed we’ve sealed our fate
And did not see until too late
The Earth was not ours to subdue
But a precious home we can’t renew
Once the balance’s lost by our neglect
Too late we learned how to respect
So Apocalypse they’ll have for sure
- But not the way they think –
For Gaia, most rare in all the universe
Is standing on the brink.
Thomas Welborn
10-31-07
Apocalypse Now (or Later)
Seven Angels' trumpets blow
Shall none escape the fatal foe
Horsemen four prepared and wait
The appointed time and starting gate
The dragon’s lair, in which it hides
And on its back the harlot rides
The times to come or is it now
The future seems at end somehow
The lots we cast can't be withdrawn
And so we wait apocalypse’s dawn
By careless choice and selfish deeds
We shall unloose the quartet’s steeds
Rides death on one – a third to take
Famine, Disease – make no mistake
The fourth a sword to smite the land
But for the ‘few’ none left to stand
And in the end comes judgment day
When all shall rise, their debts to pay
And with a sigh we hear God say
“You could have took the better way…”
Thomas Welborn
11-28-07
© Copyright 2007, Thomas
Theodore Welborn All rights reserved.
No part of this Website may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or
transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording,
or
otherwise, without written permission from the author.