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?
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?
HELL BENT ON HAVING FUN
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