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Edge of Chaos | A Poem by Malcolm Gould

Life seemed to be on the edge of chaos
misery was spreading
with the upsurge in gutter poverty
and that haunting stare,
wherever you walked beggars pleading
their will to live receding.

Arriving home one evening, there, sitting
on my porch step, a man,
this was my first impression nearing,
its shape changed before me
coming to a halt, uncertain what to expect
hostility began to detect.

For what seemed like minutes it did not move
then crawled out of view,
cautiously approached, there was a stain
green and foul-smelling
avoiding the substance yet very aware
that it was right there.

Instinct made me turn, feeling a presence,
the mass was at my back,
just managed to escape its fateful grasp
crashing to the flower bed
running from my own house petrified
for me nowhere to hide.

From their desperation they were created
an abominable creation of beasts
mutated by the pollution and poverty
until that moment never seen
just an urban legend until we collided,
my emotions deeply divided.

Illusions gone, discovering it was real not fiction
these predators mutated,
the population grew, it became an affliction
as poverty divided rich from poor
once, like me, human, living with family ties
with all the hidden deceits and lies.

Life was chaos, nights became a fight for our survival.


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Green Hills | A Poem by Malcolm Gould

From the top of those steep sloping green hills
they sat relaxed on horseback to marvel
in awe at the natural beauty of unspoilt land
uncorrupted by the destruction of progress
taking away the virginity of the landscape
where creatures safely interacted unharmed
by callous hands in pursuit of their immoral gain
the countryside balance they did not maintain.

With no tall grotesque buildings to sully the view
nor chimneys from factories regularly
spewing more deadly toxins to choke our lungs
above air clear from human impregnation
from more suspected elements of depopulation
weather harsh but the seasons defined
there before pollution and technology encased
our lives and the nightmare future to face.

Visit Malcolm http://www.malctg.wordpress.com.

Predicted | A Poem by Malcolm Gould

They predicted the end of our civilisation
giving the date for an ancient prophecy
Nibiru would collide with earth foretold
but this did not happen society goes on
they were not deterred they got it wrong
so another date was rapidly to us given
no doubt that moment may well arrive
as it gets harder in this society to survive.

A large planet said to be in the solar system
all the stars in thousands of years aligned
an expert said our time was really ended
yet here we are into another perilous week
as tornadoes earthquakes and volcanos erupt
at an increasing and unprecedented ferocity
unrest and violence unfolds before mankind
many apocalyptic scenarios are defined.

A catastrophic event will overwhelm us eventually.

Visit Malcolm at http://www.malctg.wordpress.com.

Thames | A Poem by Tara Lynn Hawk

I grasp your hand as we
head to the river
Down Duke’s Street, through Trafalgar
We stay silent, side by side
The cold settles on us
Such a likely metaphor
As we both silently acknowledge that this will be
one of the last times
And it is, and
has been
well done

Visit Tara at https://www.taralynnhawk.com/. Her chapbook of poems is available on Smashwords:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/736913.