The Anxiety Of The Age And The Poet Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

I am a poet and I think in my own way
As move I, see the world, life around me, as the things lie in,
But talk they about global warming,
The earth warming up abnormally,
The abnormal fluctuation in weather reports,
Heat soaring high,
Cold wave taking heavy toll,
Just like the heartbeat,
Pressure rising and falling abnormally

As they say it
That the spring may fall silent,
The footfall of it
We may not hear it again,
The birds will not chirp,
Flowers will not burst forth,
Cuckoos will not cackle and coo,
All the bird madrigals
Will be gone,
Gone from here.

There will be scorching summer,
The intensive heat of that will burn away everything
And the world will turn into a waste land
With the cactuses to be seen and viewed everywhere,
Drought, famine and food problem
Will take the sleeps away.

Atomic summer,
Atomic summer the talk of the day,
Days hotter and hotter,
Nuclear radiation will reduce it all to ashes,
Heaps of skeletons and bones,
Man turned a skeleton,
Lean and thin, malnourished and diseased,
Frail and feeble,
Fighting with life and death,
With the lesser expectancy of survival.

Again, they say it,
It will rain acid
As for obnoxious gases emitting from chemicals and factories,
Acid will burn it all
And it will not remain it anything here.