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~ Finding, formulating and solving life's frustrations.

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Tag Archives: goal

A Drop at a Time

20 Friday Jan 2023

Posted by petersironwood in nature, poetry, psychology

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Tags

dream, goal, life, poem, poetry, politics, truth

The walls are steel.

The walls are high.

The walls are strong.

The walls are long.

Photo by Frans van Heerden on Pexels.com

Drip. 

The soldiers train. 

Sunshine or rain.

The soldiers march. 

The soldiers march. 

Photo by Nafis Abman on Pexels.com

Drip. A peasant shares her bread.

Photo by Geraud pfeiffer on Pexels.com

The lash is long.

The money tempts. 

Cruelty rules.

Lewd one drools. 

Photo by Regina Pivetta on Pexels.com

Drop. Drip. Someone truly cares.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

The king lacks love

Wears iron glove.

The lackeys obey

Every day.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Another chooses love instead.

Ozymandias too:

He strove to do

What can’t be done. 

Not done by anyone. 

Pitter patter. Pitter patter. Another someone dares.

Agent, spy, tank and gun.

They cannot keep you

From your golden grave

But weapons do deprave.

Photo by Skitterphoto on Pexels.com

Splash, splash. The understanding reaches flash.

Afraid of brains, 

The kings use chains. 

With freedom gone, 

Creativity drains. 

Muddy waters roil. 

Burble as they boil. 

Photo by Avery Nielsen-Webb on Pexels.com

Lashes wound but waterfalls

Become a tide of epic fails. 

All who live in stony jails

Hear the sirens; hear the calls. 

Dripping drops become a tide. 

A mile high, a hundred wide. 

At last we learn the hidden cost

Summer simmer, frozen frost. 

At last we see the trees.

They bend and twist

In twos and threes. 

Forests die while hates persist.

Fires, floods and famines find 

Fertile land for odious brand.

Brigand, brag, and burning branch.

The Golden Rings to powers bind.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

And after all has burned to hell.

And nowhere left is fit to dwell. 

Then at last will everyone see. 

We didn’t have to play for greed. 

We could instead have planted seed. 

And let the water gently fall upon the land. 

We’d Eden in our grasp it seems. 

Instead we joined the bang-up band. 

Drip. Drip. Another act of kindness turns the tide.

A tidal wave a mile high, a thousand miles wide. 

(Or we could turn this ship of fate

And open every heart with gratitude

Alter every selfish attitude. 

Live and love and dance and mate). 

Photo by Midory Pho on Pexels.com

The answer lies with what we do. 

Not just me. And not just you. 

It’s what we all could choose to be. 

We could save humanity. 

We will save humanity. 

Not just me. And not just you. 

The answer lies with what we do. 

It’s what we all could choose to be. 

Dance of Billions

Paradise Lost

After All

Have no word for

The Crows and Me

Guernica

The Fungus Fools

Your Cage is Unlocked

The Forest

Roar Ocean Roar

Listen You can hear the ripples

The Broken Times

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