Saturday, July 16, 2011

Prosperity Calls


The charges are set
We’re ready to blast
There’s no need to worry
The mountain will last
This rubble is needed
For factory walls
We’ve no time to rest
Prosperity calls

Stoke up the furnace
Don’t let the fire die
Keep the coal coming
An endless supply
We must keep producing
There’s more fuel to burn
The darkness at noon
Is not our concern

There’s no time to rest
There’re more trees to fell
The more we cut down
The more we can sell
It’s all they are good for
They’re dead anyway
Soaked in pollution
To wither away

Send out the trawlers
With wall of death nets
There must be an hour
Before the sun sets
We have to work harder
The only solution
There’s less fish to catch
That’s man’s contribution

The pressure is mounting
Our profits are down
There’s no time for sleeping
Get up off the ground
There’s so little time left
We have to get on
Why is it so dark?
Where has our world gone?

 - Phil Gibson

Inspired by political upheavals and environmental concerns, Phil Gibson is a poet living in Devon, UK. Prosperity Calls is one of the poems featured in his book of poetry - Apocalyptic Visions. Prosperity Calls is reprinted here with the author's permission and was first viewed on Phil Gibson Poetry - The Garret.