Best of Friends Worst of Enemies

 

 

Water, wind and fire:

Excellent helpers indeed,

Ah! But they can turn in a flash

And on life and lively-hood feed.

 

Sources of energy, all three:

Driving turbines and mills,

But at times seem bent on destruction

As though on a mission to kill.

 

Essentially life supporting

But also, robbers of life

As they rant and rave in their fury

Creating all manner of strife.

 

 

Water, a source of life

Which, without we can’t survive

Yet, when on its path of destruction,

There is scarcely a place to hide.

 

Floods on land and perils at sea

Testing the human endurance

And oft leaving man on the losing end

Showing its abject intolerance.

 

As though in possession of life

And having a mind of its own

It sets out to trample a sworn enemy

And take him off his throne.

 

 

Wind, no less devastating

And able to move most in its path,

When in its most destructive mood

Marks wherever it has passed.

 

Unmistakable evidence

That suggests, “I have been here

And I can return whenever I want

So, man, you had better beware!”

 

 

This wind blowing on my bare shoulders

As I compose this poem

Can become a raving lunatic

And cause me a colossal problem.

 

 

Fire that cooks our meals

And provides heat in the wintry cold

Cuts a swathe through acres of forest

And causes losses untold.

 

Loss of vegetation and of life

Leaving the area an unlivable zone,

Trees undressed and the earth parched

And nowhere for animals to roam.

 

 

Hard earned earthly possessions

All are gone in a flash

When for some unknown reason

Through the forest fire makes a dash.

 

Water, wind and fire:

Best of friends and worst of enemies,

At one time, tranquil and calm

Next, destroying this serenity.

 

Best of friends and worst of enemies

Depending on the event,

Very reliable and dependable

Until they are ready to vent.

 

 

Life is dependent on all three:

Water, wind and fire

But whenever they get insanely mad

Life becomes particularly dire.

 

Harness them wherever you can

And make them work for you

But be aware, that the time will come,

When the other side will come true.

 

Stewart Russell © September 28, 2022

 

Conflagration, Incineration & Arson

 

 

 

I know you are seeing red

It is common to the above,

And whether we agree or not

It is still one love.

 

Conflagration is a fire

Incineration is as well,

And what arson actually insinuates

I do not have to tell.

 

All three speak to fire

Though arson is of evil intent,

Arsonists employ fire to destroy

But you are not so bent.

 

A conflagration is any fire

Burning out of control,

Like the California summer fires

Whose devastation is untold.

 

Incineration is controlled

And confined within a space,

Usually, a contraption to contain

The fire taking place.

 

So many fires are raging

Of the arson type,

And many a political minion

Engage in fiery hype.

 

Like those California fires

Burning out of control,

Not of incineration but arson

And the drama unfolds.

 

 

International conflagration

Reaching regional shores,

Pushing import prices higher

Causing inflation to grow.

 

Some incineration too

Getting rid of undesirables

Be it re Russia and the Ukraine

Or the Gaza strip and Israel.

 

Yes, controlled demolition

And collateral incineration,

A casting into hell as it were…

Human deprivation.

 

And the arsonists’ identity?

The political directorship!

Hand in hand with the filthy rich

Espousing their sales pitch.

 

 

 

“Sanitizing the imperil earth

For generations to come,”

A “slash and burn” you might say,

When all is said and done.

 

“Rid the garden of weeds

That the produce may grow,”

Produce determined by the farmer

That only a farmer can know.

 

Playing God as it were

Regarding who lives or dies,

Narcissism first, then nepotism,

And all that such implies.

 

Oh, what a conflagration

Across the political landscape!

Millions of unfortunate souls

Simply being raped.

 

Robbed of dignity and drive

Deprived of human rights,

Incinerated in the claws of adversity,

A most unsettling sight!

 

Such conceited arsonists

With almost unlimited power!

Safe in their self-contained bunkers

As above them go up in fire.

 

They owned the igniters

That caused the conflagration

And the incinerators too are theirs,

What devastation!

 

 

Eight billion is untenable

The poor can’t afford the trip,

How dare they share the resources

Of the powerful and rich!

 

Stewart Russell © February 28, 2024