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This is a sour grapes poem. I had sent a few poems and they were rejected. I was not surprised at the rejections, but I was at "why". The rejection said that the editor would not accept offerings "...which simply do not suit my personal taste." Now that seemed odd to me; there are a lot of things that "do not suit my personal taste" that I readily admit are good, even great. By the flip of that coin, there are things that suits my tastes exactly and I also know they are terrible.
I read two dozen poems that suited the editor's taste, and over half by my reckoning were poems only because they were formatted in short lines. Some were incomprehensible.
So I wrote what to me was a very bad short essay and put it into poetic form to see if it did better. No word back yet. (as of 8/27/2005)
Earth for billions of years had spun in a never-ending spiral toward a most destructive creation, man.
But spirals arenít never-ending.
In one direction, they spin down to nothing.
In the other, the curvature becomes infinitely large,
The spiral becoming a straight line with no end.
Man had a choice of direction.
Given free will by God, Gods, or random chance, man took his path, spiraling down to nothing. A few tried to reverse the direction, but few followed; fewer would dare.
Earth will continue its spin.
Nature will evolve again to fill the void left by manís passing.
In the searing heat that sees no ice or snow, the rains will stop.
The oceans, corpulent by the acts of man, will shelter life in hidden corners.
As time moves on, the heat will throw out to space the gases that choked the world.
Once again the balance will change, and the world, no longer called Earth by the seeds of ancient fossils, will cool.
New life will rise from the seas,
Will once again slither, creep, crawl, hop, fly and walk across the virgin surface.
Will this new life ponder the bones found within the rocks,
Or will it simply crush them under its lumbering feet?
© June, 2004
I feel better; I hope it was good for you.
Let me know what you think and don't worry, I have a thick hide. Woody