Verdigris I should kill her seed; moon drums on her cheek a cerise blood by dissonant lips dying lipstick across my forehead, frail grave beds, I see the sun, plump in absence like your father or his wraith we are merciless in our blood rose delirium in the emptied photograph, a ghost of a bird’s vale in the wind. I should’ve said that our bodies are pixels in the snow seeing our roots to every split open crack we let stay like a birthmark after we are born disencumber the rain from your faces, we shun the earth, for we whored her and now we mourn, only after we die. © 2021 Pseudopsychosis All Rights Reserved.
Written for the 7/19/2021 earthweal prompt: Write a poem of the Anthropocene which does not compromise. The prompt is inspired by Ingrid‘s call to action of the challenges we face when trying to change the world facing the climate change battle. She gave a lovely interview about it and I would highly suggest reading it on earthweal; very insightful and powerful.
This piece is about how we are actively killing ourselves by decimating the earth when we have had chances to help save it. Often how it goes in life, we often miss things when they are over and I believe we will mourn when it is too late in this case. The final line alludes to how this burden will be carried on to our blood that will live beyond our time.
Reposted for the 7/22/2021 dVerse Open Link Night Live Edition.