2022 #Dverse

poetry and short stories 1 Minute

This following passage was written for Dverse poets pub prosery prompt on Monday 11/10/2021.  To celebrate the poet T.S. Elliot. To do this we are writing a prosery piece of no more than 144 words which has to include the line “What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow out of this stony rubbish.”

Prosery: The Waste Land

October 31st 2022.

I am the last Englishman. My country chocked on its own bigotry and self-righteous attitude. We built ourselves up into the beasts who live under the beds of the indigenous people of this beautiful world.

I sit overlooking the Thames on Oct 31st 2022 as the sun goes down. The words of T.S Elliot “What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow out of this stony rubbish.” Drift through my mind as I watch the corpses of London float past.    

As a poet I open the eyes of my nation to it’s historical bullying in the name of progress. we never got past the cave man thinking of we own the land and ignoring the fact we are of it.

I leave this note to say sorry dear Earth for our transgressions. I now leap to join the other corpses in the river!

© 11/10/2021 rogleach

Unknown's avatar

Published by rog

run run run down the rabbit hole of perspective we most go

Published

17 thoughts on “2022 #Dverse”

  1. A timely piece here in Canada as we continue to recover Indigenous children lost to residential schools, assimilation and colonization. We could learn a thing or two about honoring the earth from First Nations people.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Powerful words: “we never got past the cave man thinking of we own the land and ignoring the fact we are of it.”
    It is time to wake up to climate change and our privileged ways of treating the earth as if it owes us something.
    Excellent write.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. The cathartic leap was unexpected, but, added all the resonance such a fantastic story needed

    Much💜love

    Liked by 1 person

Comments are closed.