You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘future’ tag.

crissy-listening-lg-dg-december-5-2016s

author’s note:

It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall.
           — Bob Dylan
 

TO ALL YOU OTHER NOAHS

I am building an ark

my work guided
by a voice transcendent

asking me to believe
what I can’t yet see

but I blindly obey because
as carpenters, we learn
disasters can happen when
we refuse to listen…

yeah
doubt often lowers me down

but I lift myself
with this perspective:

maybe I am
making a grand mistake…

but if so
it’s wonderfully grand.
 


© 2016, Michael R. Patton
Survival: a poetry book

Advertisements

question authority yourself 492 bb - June 18, 2016s

author’s note:

“Political reality has little to do with reality.”
        — Mark Hertsgaard, The Eagle’s Shadow

I returned to this poem as a way to deal with the pain and frustration of another campaign season.
 

USED-CAR POLITICS

Why are we so easily deceived
by those who sell us ideas
in the manner of a used-car dealer?—

because as children, we want to believe!—

governed by our fanciful imagination
we buy into the unreal reality
of an impractical political practicality.

But before long
a wheel or two falls off
and we become disillusioned
with the illusion
and curse the clunker we bought.

I’m a child when I blame
(and I still blame much too often)
but I’m also a child
when I dance and sing

so though we must
become responsible adults
let us not abandon the child
in the process:

the child in us who hopes
—who believes—
we will create a better world
as we grow up.

However
we should calm that child down
whenever we see a TV ad
for another used-car dealership.
 


© 2016, Michael R. Patton
Survival: the book

tree sweet embraceable bbbb - April 22, 2016s

author’s note:

In observance of Earth Day, April 22…

…and let us not forget National Arbor Day, April 29.
 

WORLD TREE

I am told
we may not
have enough
resources

and my own experience
seems to give this idea
credence
because
   often, I can’t remove
   the big block
   in my thoughts
   and so often
   I can not find
   enough room
   in my heart
   and too often
   I can’t quite
   locate my feet.

So in search of an answer
I spoke to a tall tree today—
a solid but free, bold sashaying tree
of green-gold candle flames:

I wanted to know how
it rose so strong, so sure
on such sparse water
in bleached rocky soil
amid dismal sunlight.

It replied:
I draw from a primeval lineage.
It replied:
I draw from an eternal sky

so all through the choking dust
of dry Summer
and all through the numbing sleet
of dead Winter
my roots, my trunk maintain
enough vertical spirit
for me to be
what’s required
of a world tree.

Now, having seen
the truth of the tree
I say:

if we’re of the same Earth spirit
yet can’t find enough resources
then we have failed as a species
and will perish or else
revert to a cave life.

But whether we stay or go
the tree will continue to flower.
The tree will not
look back on us in pity
the tree will look forward,
arms open to the next arrival.

The tree is not heartless,
nonetheless…

it won’t exaggerate our importance.
 


© 2016, Michael R. Patton
survival: the book

flower ashes 402w - February 19, 2016s

author’s note:

As they say in the movies: “based on a true story”.
 

OPULENCE

One bright day
in the early years of my search…

I wandered a verdant rolling campus—
  hoping to find the party
  promised to me
  upon entering adulthood…

Finally
at the top of a hill
I came upon a clearing
where young folk sprawled
all around an electric stage:

a band strutted and pranced
just as fools and musicians did
during the reign of the Sun King—

I could think of only one word
to describe such a Summer life:

“Opulence”

and maybe because I drank
from the communal cask
or maybe because moods
are indeed contagious
I soon became thick dizzy sluggish

and then
   with what remained
   of my feeble mind
I wondered if
we’d all become numb
by a life of too much

just too much:

the big beat did not move us
nor did the clouds or the Sun—
we had even lost our infatuation
with the winking wings of butterflies.

In the time since that time
the wine has continued
to overflow our cup

and faster, ever faster

though we can’t keep up
we dare not ask the flow to stop!

When too much
is not enough
I’m afraid to stop
lest I die from thirst.

I think we fear
that our drunken palace
must eventually, inevitably
collapse—

we imagine an aftermath
of life reduced to screwworm survival.

But since the future seems unstoppable
we’ve decided we might as well drink up–
drink up!

Maybe our future history can’t be stopped
nonetheless, I still have hope:
because I imagine
a different aftermath
after that collapse:

one in which we fill another cup—
a different cup: a grail cup—a cup I hope
I can find deep within my crowded chest:

that’s the future I’ve chosen
to believe in:

a grand experiment, this life—
no failures here…only learning…
 


© 2016, Michael R. Patton
dream steps: the blog

find COMMON COURAGE on amazon

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 612 other followers

Archives