Paranoia of Societal Collapse

Complex poem evoked from a stamp of a complex man. A complex man who promoted simplicity.  One of my paranoia is that our population will outgrow our planet’s ability to feed and water us. Is our current battle for attention and power a tell-tail or just normal human nature that repeats throughout history. This poem predicts societal collapse and heeds Thoreau’s environmental advice. Feel free to comment with your transcendentalist wonderings.


Paranoia of Societal Collapse

Thoreau
One of the great thinkers,
writers, wonderers, nature lovers.
Thoreau a timeless voice of whoa.
In his wandering wordy style
he became the father of environmentalism,
simple living,
and promoter of less government, honest government.

In our world of stuff, of more,
of busy, of image, of jockeying for attention,
Thoreau’s message of simplicity, of nature
is a light on the horizon
for a time is coming
when progress will collapse,
when resources no longer support swollen populations.
The slate will wipe back
by boom and bust,
bust us back to the old ways,
the ways of living simply with the land.

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About createthedawn

Dawn’s calling is for her poetry to “light the gloomy corners of the world.” She writes custom poems life events important to you. Dawn also facilitates writing workshops both online and face-to-face, is a dynamic speaker on inspiration, innovation, change, and healing. Dawn believes in the power of poetry to process, to focus, to align, and to find our way to happiness and fulfillment. Thus, her business and her blog are called: create the dawn.
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2 Responses to Paranoia of Societal Collapse

  1. Camille Anderson says:

    planet’s ability-not plant’s

    whoa-a direction for a horse to stand still woe-great sorrow

    Have a good last day at work. Love the poem. Mom

    Like

  2. Thanks Mom for the typo catch on “planet.” It is a bit odd but you nailed it with meaning of “whoa,” holding back the horses reins instead of headlong plunging ‘forward’ into disaster. I like the unintended meaning of “woe” too. It is great how a poem really is its own creature rather than completely of the poet’s making.

    Like

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