The Mother stood shaking
From North to South Pole
She asked herself why
Destruction was their goal.
She’d given them life, she’d brought them to be
She even gave them her own body
The flowers and fruits she tirelessly bore
As well as Chances… Chances to be more.
A rainbow shone over the moon that night
Letting her darkened plan take flight.
They wanted to hurt her, burn her away
What they didn’t know was she was born to play.
She summoned the Spirits of Fire, Water, and Air
Asmodea, Beatrix, and Lisanna, so fair.
“Go Northwest.” Mother said.
“It’s time for this nasty little plague to end.”
She cackled like mad and lit up a joint
If she was going to die, then there was no point
In delaying the matter, she saw no reason.
Her hormones raged on as her body changed season.
“That I may rise anew again…
Let my body rot and fall
I’m sorry, loves, my sweet children…
How I wish I could save you all…”
Through fields of Mary and Heather,
The Elements flew
With thoughts of inclement weather
The perfect storm, they’d brew.
Starting at the top
And working on down
They’d surely hurt more
Than some alien clown
Fire burned hot
Wind whipped around
Water frothed and foamed
Now they’d all learn
Swirling like a vortex from Russia on down
The Three laughed and shrieked.
In for a penny, in for a pound
Mother started to quake.
Oregon burned on
Mexico shook
Paris was drowned
Europe blew around and around.
Burning, shaking,
Blowing and quaking
What could be done?
Naught. Mother’s done.
What can we do to stop this from coming?
Simple enough, take off and start running.
We’ve destroyed our Mother beyond belief.
No wonder she’s cranky! She just needs relief!
Where you and I can smoke on a bowl
Mother’s left hurting, which aches in her soul
We’ve got to stop killing
And spilling and drilling
We need to start planting
Re-rooting and tilling!
Take care of our Mother
Who gave us all life
If we do it just right
She won’t feel the strife.
The pressure of kids is grand and it’s rough
While Momma’s strong, kids… She’s just had enough.
I urge you to think about what you do
I prithee be true
And honest
And You.
So roll up a J,
If it be your thing
Smoke it on down,
And hear Momma sing.
She’s a tough old bird
Still in her prime
But come on now guys…
I think it’s now time.
To take off and start
Again somewhere new
Let Mother recover
It’s the least we can do.
Very enjoyable, and you know how it goes, when mama's not happy, ain't NOBODY happy! ;)
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Um! That's really epic!
Great entry! I love the popular news references you mentioned and the turn of the season as it is realized in the great mother. Good times. We live in an upheaval that would make any mother roll over in her grave! :-O Cheers to you and your poet skills!! :-)
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Thank you very much! A fellow Steeminion showed me a prompt, and I just took it from there.
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Awesome poem. Great flow and story line. Mother needs a break!
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That she does. Thank you!
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