Plantation

We plowed along the plainsland.
We sank our hands in the earth,
We sowed our hopes in small hollows,
We coveted mighty seedlings,
And we sweated ourselves dry through
Labor and Hardship.
Our names are carved indelible
In the roots and air of the land,
And the dichotomy
We created of roots and limbs
Grips dirt and heaven
And holds this world together.
We are the then and the not yet,
The slimming languid minors of right now,
That beat beneath the allure of glowing cubicles,
The gnaw at the backs of brains,
And the spark that beckons to be killed
By its infiniteness.

Reviews

[Sammie]

Another thought evoking poem. Well done!

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

Quite simple for a prose whose message is certainly a degree higher than simplistic, well done, fantastic imagery.

[DavidRyanM]

Dig it, man. Definitely different than anything I've read in quite a while. The dream-feeling that this whole piece gave me caught me off guard, in a good way.