Richard Pierce

Richard Pierce – author, poet, painter

Life, Poetry


Nature’s revenge is a tool of precision.
It wraps itself around the poor plans of
Men and women who think they
Have outwitted her with modern things.

Innovation without a sense of history
Does not invent new things. It repeats the
Errors of every arrogant generation.
Identical campaigns, identical words.

The same implosion of humankind.
The depths and the heights are the same
As before Big Bang, and Physics
Doesn’t lie, that philosophy science.

Deaths and deaths and deaths.
Over and over and over.

R 24/06/2023 20:35

Make this mean whatever you want it to mean. I mourn every loss and every evil of the world. That’s probably what makes my shoulders and brain hurt.

The Mastodon version does not have the last two lines. It makes sense, either way, though, as always, I like the longer version better.

I took A to work in Wroxham in Madge today, and the took Madge to a jet carwash so I could wash all the bird mess off her. Filled her up, and now she’s back under wraps until I get back from my holiday. I’m really chuffed she’s running again, and so well, and she will be driven more when I get back. She wants to be. We do talk to each other. Always have.

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