Where Have All The Flowers Gone Poem by michael spangenberg

Where Have All The Flowers Gone



Cheetah, Dik-dik, Bonobo

Hedgehog, Impala, Jackal

where have all the flowers gone

wild-at-heart's rapidly disappearing

precious value-at-Risk exposed

whodunit, Mr. Doe - Qui bono

Big-oil, conspicuous consumption

Homo-homini-lupus' the culprit.


Global wildlife plunging to two third

population of fish, birds, amphibians

reptiles, community of all living being

how much of them will be amongst the

living within the span of half-a-century?


Biodiversity's foundation of healthy forests

rivers, oceans; ecosystems collapse along

with clean air, water, food & climate services

preserving a living planet for survival and prosperity

human behavior, reckless, continues to drive

wildlife populations' decline globally

adversely impacting freshwater habitat

wildlife genocide's indirect suicide.


You have many contacts among the lumberjacks

get all the the convenient facts when someone attacks

your imagination, but nobody has any respect, anyway

they already expect you to give a check to tax-deductible

charity organizations; you walk into the room like a camel

you frown, you put your eyes in your pocket and your nose

on the ground; there ought to be an animal-welfare law

against you coming around, you should be made to wear

Baboon or wolf-earphones, but you say, what does this mean?

and God screams back you're a Dwarf Mongoose, give me

some plain vanilla Ben & Jerry ice-scream or else go home

'cause something is happening, but you don't know what it is

do you, Mr. Doe - where's the Archbishop of Canterbury?


Habitat loss, degradation and overexploitation

the American way of life, pursuit of happiness

at the detriment of wildlife, next generation

damage beyond repair?

declines, not yet extinctions.


Wake-up call to marshal efforts to

promote recovery of wildlife populations

solutions for restoring ecosystems

we depend upon them, the platform's already

burning; Ain't got too much time to lose

but do not hurry as you walk with grief

Mr. Doe, weeping big crocodile tears

does not particularly help the journey.

Sunday, October 30, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: climate change
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Frank James Ryan Jr...fjr 30 October 2016

A mean GREEN machine of a scheme, Michael...Enjoyed this...Keep that pen pumping ~FjR'16~

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