The Rebel

The flower grows through the concrete

that flat dark oppressor

who’s overtaken our world


The land used to be soft

supple and sweet with the

loving soil


dirt roads and dirt houses

earth surrounded us

made us remember where we come from


on the open faces of children

the clenched hands of adults

were left traces of the world


work and play involved the same

essential ingredients

and together they made life


pavement is clean

and leaves no mark

except bloody scrapes on our knees


Now it hurts to fall

the earth cannot catch us

with her arms bound


But the green is coming through

now and I can see the breaks

in the grey


The cracks are getting wider and

we might have hope yet

of wearing that warm ground


If I can find a patch

of some dirt

I’ll roll in it till I’m covered


And walk naked through the asphalt

world till my muddy footprints

erase all the bloodstains

from scraped knees and plucked flowers.

◄ The Process

Summer Meeting ►


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Alexandra Rockwell Lorenz

Tue 12th Jul 2016 13:18

Thank you Martin. I totally agree.

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Martin Elder

Tue 12th Jul 2016 10:36

I like the dichotomy here between the seemingly two worlds. We need more of the green and less of the grey Well put Alexandra

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