h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Flesh and blood comes free with a creed, greedily eaten

Gluttony like the very mutton, grown from fields stripped

Back to the bare stone,A hard cold ground those fat sheep feed on

Those morsels slivers ,inundating from those ever hungry mouths wide awake

Agape and waiting for the next feed, of discarded .naked
raped oil seed.

Stomachs disproportionate to their needs And if within these
Discarded portions we still gorge ,

Disproportionately those That are dissolute by our possessing ,
will redress the mess we Allow to grow or fester ,

less we get
the chance to lance that
Boil , spoiling for more raw caw caw,


despite the finite ness of the space between
Hunger and plenty ,we carry on in our longing to long
And its gone

Gone with the dodo ,who knows why or when,
Revelations like the sound ,of the school dinner gong ,
long ago the shale for crude oil soiled land ,

Sold For a song Soon to follow on,
the next oceanic throng, like lemmings following ,
when all the land all despoiled. ,we turn back to whales now
.Hunted for the royal ,tease displease ,shouting in despair
Plea’s haunting those who out ,one see’s hunting
Harpoon festoon in bunting ,crying thar she blows ,
Another old sea song never head again , now no new one
,

Gone with our hopes for cheap electricity ,burnt out fossils find
In the fires of profits for free, coals all burnt ,along with trees
shocking the declined refined in the stink of this corruption

Eruption ,ruptured raptures Long ago un-captured ,since
Heart felt ,good intentions ,with each power hungry invention,
Have re re-revealed , the convention of this ,sad and simple
Tension ,that haunts the civilised word of darkness , enlightening
The answers to all new questions is in
,

the song we used to sing

The answer my friend is ……blowing in the wind

Dappled sunlight playfully playing in shadows,
Effortlessly following sun trails, to the ends of the earth
Never getting to far ahead of the game, same time of day
Displays of mimicry , hidden in the shrubbery ,lurks
The green eyed monster jealousy , for beginners,
Envy in the poison ivy ,clambering for dizzy heights,
In the hope of reconnaissance , making sense ,of the senseless.

And in scratching those itches ,raises mountains from molehills,
We seem to forget the first instance, stood in the , shadows scratching
The raw surface just seen. In the corner of the eye, not seen but imagine.
Image in mind ,unkind we find , the colour blinds , if we don’t unwind,
The grinding of gritted teeth, beneath ,angst , wears on more than just the

Enactment of misplaced attachments , ground down ,facial frowns , frozen
Scenarios remembered, in techno colour . Smothering emotion ,evoking
Screams and themes, from Hitchcock seems a use-full place to start the
Heart on the road to recovery , smothering the itches scratching eyes
From the bitches ,dogs on the heath in heat,
how hot burn the fires of passion now.......
save you a trip abbi

Wow that is a lot to absorb.
It takes me longer when they start out dark ( first post)but you always make it worth sticking to

I am so tired, cannot do it justice, so I shall return tomorrow hopefully.
I was hoping the computer tech would show today*sigh*

Much easier for me to read today
Very good ,I like both.

The second speaks to a portion of my life quite well.
The first would be a wonderful tool - front page for an enviromental group!

well if you know of a group that wants to use it fell free to forward it
or any part of it. think i gave the first one a different name on get writeing power hungry crazy renamed it on here as was ab123 for ease
of memory ,catch you later