Tag Archives: disaster

siren calls

sirens tear open this day

softpillowed dreams crumpled

pinned by each imagined shriek

flying up from blood soaked gurneys

remembering that we are seconds away from a 180

recalling acute pain and trauma shocked eyerolls

focusing on the ambulance ceiling

not quite able to disassociate

tethered by a thousand nerves to now

I listen to cries that I’ll never hear

feeling empathy for the agony of strangers

torn from their routines into the brightness of disaster

as I lie awakening to reverberations of machine screams

wondering about final moments

about what’s behind the next door

and if I should get out of bed

to dance with sirens

 

 

David Trudel     ©  2013

 

 

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These Days

If these are the end times, as biblically foretold

Or just the bubble of civilization approaching its burst

From climate change

Or the breakdown of dysfunctional political corporatism

Let’s appreciate them, the end times

Let’s make love as often as possible

Let’s love these days

These rare days when everyone with privilege across the globe

Can buy the same perfect apples in air-conditioned sameness

These commonplace days of global luxuries

Where winter just means having to fly your strawberries in from across the globe

Appreciate the luxuries that may not be around much longer

Since there seems to be sufficient portents to nudge me towards gloom

Thinking doom and doomsday plots

As reports flood in of massive ice melts, methane gas releases, shrinking glaciers

While dystopian planners hunker down in pinched fear gearing up for a fast ride to hell

And failed states release terror into the shipping lanes

Failed rulers cling noose tight to power with blood red iron fingertips

Overhead strange signs appear

Like grid patterns of chemtrails crossing lines from secrecy to sin

Leaving us at the mercy of a tainted wind

Droves of us mill about in sheepled delusions

Brainwashed by selective education and finely crafted propaganda

Called popular culture

Our behaviour manipulated to ensure submission into complicity

But understanding the inherent flaws in this grand monoculture

There’s still some room for righteous hedonism on the way out

Because there is a lot to be savored in this shimmer

And if there is some apocalyptic descent into chaos

Waiting in ambush around the next bend

Don’t we owe it to everyone to use every possible pleasure to its limit

And if this scrap survives beyond whatever ultimate disaster takes us out

To be read by some far futured survivor picking up pieces

To you I say, it was fucking awesome to be alive at the apex

 

 

David Trudel   © 2013

 

 

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Filed under Poetry