Bora born
Tilted windmills _
Surveyors on roads with chains ranged down the line
leave little space for their own sense of freedom.
Rainforests in the distance, a boulevard
of rose gums shows the way, the cathedral of
light from nature's splendid tones sensate's eden.
A world heritage preserved, a jewell in the
crown for thempla with heart felt minds free to see.
Mountains untouched dressed in carpet green, species
so rare as in a dream, refines this living
library gifted to the world from yesteryear.
The endangered survive, betongs shoot the breeze
under filtered suns of once were eagle skies.
A menagerie of critters scuttle through
the canopy above fungi encrusted
fallen ones, in time the recycle complete.
Don quixote wannabees power surge tully falls
where gravity trapped bore holes line up to merge.
Cars graze leafy tunnels pruned koombaloomba
our mountain dam holds secret tells from remnant
bygone times freed up from beaurocratic toss.
Corporations sucker punch our heritage
intent signaled with turbines by the hundred.
A wind farm subsidised by government to
counter fossil fuel's ubiquitous purge from
grace through circumstance of their own creation.
The no skin in the game crowd pull on the vine
for lost ginger bread houses flushed in leaf green.
A parochial lot more interested in
who's the boss than swinging support in well oiled
resistance to entitled raw corporate greed.
Options traded in one for you two for me
by corporate narcs, the only game in town.
Service to others usurped as love brings up
anything so unlike itself, in witness
with fingers writing on your hearts, which way you.
- O -
© 2nd nov 2021 _ Ioan James Daniel
Author's notes and media are here.
leave little space for their own sense of freedom.
Rainforests in the distance, a boulevard
of rose gums shows the way, the cathedral of
light from nature's splendid tones sensate's eden.
A world heritage preserved, a jewell in the
crown for thempla with heart felt minds free to see.
Mountains untouched dressed in carpet green, species
so rare as in a dream, refines this living
library gifted to the world from yesteryear.
The endangered survive, betongs shoot the breeze
under filtered suns of once were eagle skies.
A menagerie of critters scuttle through
the canopy above fungi encrusted
fallen ones, in time the recycle complete.
Don quixote wannabees power surge tully falls
where gravity trapped bore holes line up to merge.
Cars graze leafy tunnels pruned koombaloomba
our mountain dam holds secret tells from remnant
bygone times freed up from beaurocratic toss.
Corporations sucker punch our heritage
intent signaled with turbines by the hundred.
A wind farm subsidised by government to
counter fossil fuel's ubiquitous purge from
grace through circumstance of their own creation.
The no skin in the game crowd pull on the vine
for lost ginger bread houses flushed in leaf green.
A parochial lot more interested in
who's the boss than swinging support in well oiled
resistance to entitled raw corporate greed.
Options traded in one for you two for me
by corporate narcs, the only game in town.
Service to others usurped as love brings up
anything so unlike itself, in witness
with fingers writing on your hearts, which way you.
- O -
© 2nd nov 2021 _ Ioan James Daniel
Author's notes and media are here.
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Tilted windmills _
Tilted windmills _
