IN THE TEMPLES OF BLACK GOLD

A poem about oil (petroleum aka black gold)

IN THE TEMPLES OF BLACK GOLD

October candles burn down
dreams of summer flicker in the air
heated by black gold.

Blazing in the furnaces running
out of time to watch dirty habits
wash up in boiled seas.

The black gold slithers through
the rich man's fingers. The poor man
wanders as desert lands encroach.

Another soldier buried, fighting
for resources. Wisdom lies crushed
in abandoned dreams.

The future waits, impatient around
another corner as geo thermal genies
rise from deep underground.

Solar powered prietesses harvest
the old sun god,wind generated wizards
power new technology.

The winds no longer whisper, they scream
down desert valleys, flooded by indifference
scarred by old mined seams.

Mothers of mass consumption
Fathers of  fuelled corruption
Children of total destruction
cannot be obeyed.

Today's roars silently stifled
the deaf walls are well sealed
locked behind indifference
in the temples of black gold.

The shells will be abandoned
as they crack under pressure
The walls begin to crumble
in the temples of black gold.

D.Hinson
Oct 09

Reviews

[Poeticpiers]

I enjoyed your train of thought.Coal powered the industrial revolution but was abandoned in my view short sightedly as the there are still vast stocks underground With modern technology we could be self sufficient in energy.Instead of being dependent on oil producing nations.
You said it well I remember when coal was king