Self Improvement Poetry posted July 11, 2021

This work has reached the exceptional level
'her songs shall be sung once again'

Rage (lament of the Queen)

by RGstar

(lament of The Queen)


How we have raped, ravaged, and soiled:
tearing sunder her skirt,
The very skirt that has warmed, weathered and weaned
our very being--she, asking little but care.
Her umbilical cord, good of fodder,
one with God...once brimming, now bare.
For while she bleeds, man hails himself within--
hails himself king:
reaper of obtuse the abuse.

But if dormant she rests, patience is her guise,
so must we surmise, she stirs.
Wounded and scarred--a quiet disregard.
For where once lenient the rays of the sun,
harnessing heat, the balance now undone.
Things of wings and feet, too, must run.
So it has begun.

Earth! Earth! How silent your pain, defiled again.
Queen of queens, mother of all.

And as a dolphin mourns its young,
the mighty whale is tossed and turned,
cold steel piercing the heart of its heart.
And where once zealous the seal, deprived now its zeal,
bludgeoned in spaces of ill repute...such is man the brute.
Tongues searching, striving for air--a final despair...
their last, aghast--a blood filled bath.

And the trees, the trees...
how precious the need, for air we breathe,
yet still they recede...broken, they bleed.
The lion; its mane, once regal of all.
Now the centerpiece of vain walls and heartless pride
''Beware!'' I say, ''Beware,'' for clouds, low, shall cluster.
Seas, wrath, shall muster...and the ground quake,
where all that we know shall break.
How tedious are minds, when only for own sakes, as now.

The marauding ape, no longer may feed--
its habitat refurbished for greed,
though no planting of seed.
Ivory, removed from its place, for want of a face,
beguiled of its grace, piled like 'tooth-in-lace'
...fine ornaments of disgrace.
And woe, our forests of rain, burning again,
in stealth, nurtured by her...then scythed for wealth.

Rage, rage, rage,
for lamented here, only lyrics of pain,
but her songs shall be heard once again...

Rage, rage, rage, rage....




Free verse;
defined as a poem with no set meter or verse that mimics natural speech patterns. Free verse poems can be short or long, contain sporadic rhymes or none at all, and be conveyed in spoken or written mediums.

A creative work for a subject close to my heart.

My best wishes.

Obtuse= insensitive or slow to understand.
Fodder =food, for cattle and other livestock.

I also have to reach out and thank an authoress here for the gift of member dollars which took me by surprise. A remarkable gesture, as I am so used to giving, I almost forgot what it means to receive. Thank you so much Portia (Pharp). My gratitude to you and all the good hearted persons that share this platform. It is indeed an honor to know one is surrounded by such of you. Thank you. I hope this work does the gesture justice.
Thank you once more. There is indeed goodness in Godliness.
Best wishes.
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

Save to Bookcase Promote This Share or Bookmark
Print It View Reviews

You need to login or register to write reviews. It's quick! We only ask four questions to new members.

© Copyright 2021. RGstar All rights reserved.
RGstar has granted, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.