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Josh Martinez
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Absence of Torches
i have grown into an old man and my whole clan
is fast asleep in the vast tracks of land that i keep, and i plan
to write my life out and then expand until all the candles are snuffed out,
and darkness stands the test of time.
in the best of my vestibule chats with god,
he had this odd way of showing the shame he felt
in the way that we knelt before the alters of plastic.
it's like we opened up a portal in our pagan acts
and sacrifices were performed.
when life's little vices have deformed
the world that we live in,
the price we payed is being delayed from seeing the pearly gates and givin',
and god's children are forbidden, and livin' in what used to be our garden,
and in our exit we're starting to subdue whoever we can take from,
and make some bunch of numb assholes,
most status points we're at the last hole
and tryin' to keep hope in this blackhole
with no rope to climb with. the vine is rotting right before my eyes,
by the divine we've been advised, so many times we've seen the signs,
that the strains placed on the inter-laced vines
is having an effect that we can never reverse in enough regret.
get your dirty laundry off the close line,
i've froze my mind in hindsight,
a picture might be worth a thousand words but
only one earth day is worth shit in every way we work the land
and hurt the hand that feeds us, and even jesus,
the son of god, leaves us. it's hard when to appease us
when as a species we have to have more,
and still the sore grows as our store of knowledge rose
from buildin' fires, to tires slow burnin' in the distance.
dancing in revolution meant that the establishment
was overturned and dissolved,
i'm singin' in the acid rain, pollution problem solved,
and great pain to the rainforest and everyone involved.
it's not gettin' any better, i know it's gettin' worse,
for every birth dispersed upon this earth brings
another mouth to feed, and strains the purse strings,
but first thing's first, we need to act and attack the route cause,
for all the flack and flaws and exported bear claws.
we humans as a race have no escape clause.
we must pause for thought 'cause we're stuck with what we got,
so let's make the best and the stronger that we address the problem,
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the sooner the better. perfect flight, even admire it,
instead of setting fire to it's home in times of dire man,
get off your ass and do somethin'.
the sands expand in the land of prose, so witness the lowly retreat back,
growin' used to defeat. in fact, the heat acts
as a catalyst for clingin' to hope,
'cause hopefully channels upstream will open up.
i just want my children's stream water to be clean,
as these extremes mark nature's way. we've gone too far.
instead of wise ways, we've built highways,
we can't go back so let's go sideways, at least in my days,
we had hopes and dreams to fulfill.
and now the streams are floatin' with landfill.
the earth can't cope, it's a candle in the wind
hopin' to cling to anything as the wax drips on tax slips.
we slash and burn to ash piles of trash including plastic.
now unless something drastic occurs, the wick'll flicker out
and then we'll learn about the cost of apathy,
and i know some who probably laugh at me, but fuck it.
every second wasted means tap water tasted must be boiled,
and every piston oiled means one more river soiled and forever dead.
well note this moment and remember it, 'cause each day the heat rise,
another member of our planet dies.
and it's a 'long december' up in the sky rise,
and we're runnin' out of space and
'maybe this year will be better than the last.'
but not likely, we still got nike and holes in the ozone
and it's like the human chromosome is somehow proned to hate.
even though our fate is intertwined with the debate,
on what is our evil is actually inhuman incarnate,
for when we explore the villages in the wilderness,
we're buildin' on the premisice that promises
are made to be displayed as we invade the last of the human sanctuaries.
renegade tribes feelin' the push for progress.
computer wavelength measures everything from wet levels of stress
to compression-chambered heat,
and how did our feet walk so far from the rock wall in k-mart?
livin' for freedom like braveheart, i for one crave a fresh start.
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