Tag Archives: end of civilization

sepia toned

we woke up sepia toned

not drained of colour but transformed into shimmers

 

light lays flat

yellowed as yesterday’s bloodied sun

slipped sideways on a once upon

 

we call each other asking

“do you see it too?”

and words like apocalypse

like endtimes, like otherworldly

fill our mouths as the sky fills our thoughts

 

later, waiting for the ferry

I walk the beach up to and under the dock

crosshatched shadows feed the noontime reek of creosote

triggering memories of campfires

then all I smell is the smoke of a carbon sink

a million trees candled in the wind

a burning world

riding thermals down every seaward valley on the coast

until each wave pushes another dragon under

 

we try to laugh about how strange it looks

as the sun reddens its shroud

 

today is marked in black

this is the year when winter thins its cool

no matter how golden the sky seems right now

or how wonderful splintered light appears slipping through ashfall

this is no celebration

this is not the same as other years

when autumn slashpiles streamed pendants

 

today is amber

a moment to hold long enough to remember

how startled we once were

 

 

 

David Trudel     © 2015

 

 

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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