For the Love of Our Children

Esther’s father was a physicist who specialised in thermo-dynamics and she says ‘my father would have known that he was tethering me on a rail onto which two twin trains of overpopulation and climate change were bearing down in the not too distant future with a series of waggons such as loss of bio-diversity, pollution, conflicts, disease etc.. ‘. Esther has written these poems expressing her anguish:

For the love of our children

 If we had children they would have been pretty
 If we had children they would have been witty
 If we had children they would have been clever
 Had we had children they may well never:

 Never forgive us the collective stupidity
 Never forgive us the unfettered greed
 Never forgive us that on the day we conceived
 We didn’t instead spend the time watching telly

 For what future is there for nine billion of them?
 All of them programmed to come out on top
 Having grazed the surface of the planet
 Left to search the universe for a place with a crop

 If we had children we would have loved them
 And hoped in return they would love us
 Nobody to look after us when we are old
 Nobody to leave things to when we are cold

 The biggest act of love is not to have them
 In 80 years time a search for life may be in vain
 What chance do they have for a future?
 Not having them we’ll have saved them much pain

 I am a woman hence programmed to bear them
 Have a lovely mate, would have been a fantastic Dad
 I am depressed when I think about Humans
 But maybe my children would have been barking mad!!

 So leave them where they are, as such they are perfect
 Won’t play, nor steal, lie, murder, love or create
 Leaves me to long for what could have been
 And leaves our children in a much happier state


 We blow the tops off mountains
 We dredge the bottom of seas
 We fly to visit other planets
 And have done away with bees

 We are prolific with our seeds
 And don’t give a second thought
 To what is in store for the weeds
 That into the world we brought

 Was that Creator on drugs
 When he gave free will to thugs?
 Or are we more likely an animal
 Whose make-up is pretty abysmal

 We think we are oh so genial
 Superior to any other creature
 Yet, we tease, we bitch, we torture, 
 We envy, we steal and we kill

 Oh yes from time to time we love
 Often when we’re after something
 Someone else’s treasure trove
 Which with delight home we bring

 To lead we select the powerful
 Even if they’re wholly inept to rule
 Why must this gorgeous planet
 Be plagued with such a big fool?

Black Mood

 Vultures stop breeding
 When they are out of food
 Yet nothing stops Humans
 When we’re in the mood

 Optimism, a strange condition
 Helps us get through life
 And shelters us from the vision
 That soon there will be strife

 With some nine billion of a kind
 Ravishing the earth’s resources
 Which kids in their right mind
 Would choose such obstacle courses?

 The sweet innocent babe
 Poor sod had no choice
 They don’t have a voice
 When it comes to their fate

 Look at the world and think
 With choice would you want
 To rejoice with us in the stink
 Of this overcrowded land?

 Where is God when you need him?
 Father Christmas turns up once a year
 Oh isn’t our brain a little dim
 When it is confronted with fear!


 A silverback gorilla 
 Picks up his camera
 Shoots a swinging imp
 Wonders if the creature
 In his picture a feature
 Is a bonobo or a chimp

 T’is in fact: 

 Identifiable by the shape
 The largely popular 
 And utterly bi-polar 
 Unfathomable human ape
 Who against its own planet
 Stages plunder and rape

 It breeds as it is scared
 Of being left on its own
 As without a big tribe
 It feels quite forlorn

 And have you ever felt
 like talking birth control
 To a species in love 
 with love, and alcohol, 
 unless you want your pelt
 adorned with a giant hole?


 We are this funny creature
 Seeking a reason for our existence
 When we discovered there is none
 We became hell-bent on having fun

 But fun is a powerful drug
 Turning Homo Sapiens into a thug
 So when we thrash the place 
 On which our existence depends
 A “high” IQ should tell our race 
 This is where the fun ends

 My Mum told me you can’t take
 Both the icing and the cake
 Adverts over-rode this advice
 And greed is such a powerful vice

 I know the reptilian brain
 Makes it difficult to restrain
 Why wait for tomorrow?
 When we can have now
 The object of desire
 And life can be such a cow?

 To give ourselves a reason
 To continue this existence
 We put into the world children
 Whether they want to be here or not
 Now that is what I call abuse
 The planet is getting hot
 And no-one has the courage
 To say kids are not part of this plot


 I have a hesitation
 as to the elation
 or is it a vexation?
 Maybe the subject 
 of commiseration?
 To find myself 
 to be (or not to be 
 if you feel Shakespearian)
 the manifestation
 of a proliferation

Thank you to Esther for sharing these poems

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