Subjugated
If there were no humans being human
Being handfuls of mechanisation
The planet would find itself and be in
Equilibrium. Instead there’s urban
Grunge. Detritus of civilisation
Bludgeoning pure nature into ruin.
A plague of humans spreads as a virus -
Encroaching deadening all living space.
Were this any other species we would
Claim it’s evil and say ‘It’s taking us
Over’ and should be wiped from the earth’s face;
Absolutely of course for our own good.
Still, people will not see beyond their own
Wants… providing they are comfortable;
Everything will carry on as before:
Computers, wi-fi, A.I., mobile phones;
Technology is more than capable
Of solving the planet’s problems, and more.
Maybe so, maybe not. But what is left?
Where will be the work of millennia,
Of eternity’s manifestation?
Life’s intricate adaptations bereft:
A bulldozed poisoned burnt dystopia.
All justified as civilisation.
Other life forms all are subjugated
To humanities insane drive, to what?
To economic growth, to market force?
We are creating a planet fated
To be too wet to breathe, else far too hot
And left to rot in hell – our fine resource.
And, yet, still around me I look and see
The verdant spirit still trying trying
To raise the silent green banner of growth.
Every year she comes back, grass, flower and tree
Sun sparkling and setting the wind waving,
Until, ‘Oh look, here comes the human oaf!’
Is it possible for a single branch
Of evolution to command the end
Of all others? Is it just possible,
By dim-sighted ignorance of just chance
To destroy it all with no hope to mend
The riotous ever green crucible?
© RM Meyer,
Winswell Water, July 2019
