1000 Words for 10,000 Ears

These troubled times are soon to end…as we will see the end, this time.

Please see (below) the 1000-word “Ode to Humans” concerning one possible end of humanity. All original, stirring, and borderline activist poetry by Robyn Eggs. EA Poe, October tribute. (Written with feeling for the human condition.)

“1000 Words for 10,000 Ears”

BALLAD / POEM / ODE TO HUMANS

(Stanza 1)
As humans, we struggle
We miss the match
At last we huddle
Against the roads that crash
Against one another
We stay true
What was it like,
We wonder, to see the sky blue?
Was it all puffy clouds?
Or was nothing ever new?

Were there sounds?
Were they like something we never knew?
And so we try to replicate them
As we tap our shoes,
Us humans do…


(Stanza 2)
The tapping of the shoes
Rings true through the halls
Of the cave-like fortress
Where we hide in duress, against walls
Now moaning ensues
Like the sounds of the wind
Straight from the gut
We humans sing about terror and sin
As we’re stuffed in a barrel
Like sardines in a tin

Were there sounds?
Were they like something we never knew?
And so we try to replicate them
As we tap our shoes,
Us humans do…


Sepia reeds…also published on Pintrest

(Stanza 3)
Let us pray the storm will pass
Let us pray that the apocalypse
Won’t last past another generation
We need to escape this barrel, this ellipse
Another generation won’t stand for it
We’ll have to peek our heads outside
But the last person to give it the slip
Never came back to give us a ride
And so I know that I am not the only one
Who thinks of how to escape, here inside

Was there light?
Was there something new to see?
And so we try to imagine them
As we close our eyes to see
What kind of humans we could be…


(Stanza 4)
The human struggle is all
But might and worth
Those two things
We can toss aside, in this sea of mirth
Each is watching the other
And for this we cannot blame
The deeds of one another
Inside this cave – they bear no shame
If only I could cum again
But without shame, there is no flame

Was there light?
Was there something new to see?
And so we try to imagine them
As we close our eyes to see
What kind of humans we could be…


(Stanza 5)
The only light came from the fire
Yet, there was no need to be near
We found that it could be imitated
By phosphorous, it was clear
The fortress was lined with it
From a time long ago
And we humans lie affected by it
On the floors of the bordello
Like so many sheep in a pen
We lie about everywhere, like jello

Was there a smell of outside?
Could we try to find it that way?
Always searching for a breath of freshness,
As we wend along the way –
All we know is the smell of decay…


Forest Path, Cape Perpetua, OR, USA

(Stanza 6)
The tapping shoes mingle here and there
With the moans, the coos,
And the dirty underwear
Years and years of rags were used
Made into tents and stuff,
Burned up or covered in blood
Some of the rags made it into the walls
To stuff the holes that came from mud
But everywhere teemed humans
Like the crust of the Earth, covered in crud

Was there a smell of outside?
Could we try to find it that way?
Always searching for a breath of freshness,
As we wend along the way –
All we know is the smell of decay…


(Stanza 7)
Yet, still you will find
An occasional human
In need of a hug
Like so many ruins
Time will never let us up
Will we always be in need of touch?
Will we always be human?
So soft, yet so tough
Will we find an opening?
And escape this den of lust?

Perhaps we will find again
The humans that left
Perhaps we will know the touch
Of something bereft
Of decay, of cleft…


(Stanza 8)
Searching, searching
One over the other
We trample each other blandly
In the dark sea of cover
In this cave, so lacking in wonder
Petroglyphs high above, on jutting rocks
Reveal how far down we have come
Now that the water has been all but draught
We are searching for a part of ourselves
That has been eroded over time and lost

Perhaps we will find again
The humans that left
Perhaps we will know the touch
Of something bereft
Of decay, of cleft…


Winter Flowers…also published on Pintrest

(Stanza 9)
And words mingle,
In the breath of passers by
Someone is standing next to me,
I did not notice until they said Hi
Hi, have you seen a way out yet?
They mutter to me lightly as if there was one
As if we hadn’t given up after the fall
Such a great shaking and the entrance was undone
Generations ago
Yet we forget like there never was one

Were there beasts to taste?
Like the ones painted on the ceiling?
I give myself up to the imagining,
My tongue is flooding with feeling,
About how, if so, what a rock I’d be wielding…


(Stanza 10)
As humans, we hunger
In a collective
We share what we find,
Which is subjective
Some days, fat little rodents
Will lose their ways in the dark
Only to be eaten,
Roasted over fire and spark
Sometimes an insect
Or worse, can be found in the dark

Were there beasts to taste?
Like the ones painted on the ceiling?
I give myself up to the imagining,
My tongue is flooding with feeling,
About how, if so, what a rock I’d be wielding…


(Stanza 11)
Someone’s done it
They’ve found us, no way!
Calls in the deep, give away what’s happening
I hear their words ricochet
We’ve found you they call
I hear the others start to awaken
Sounds like they are amassing,
Standing up, suddenly shaken
They die down, getting distant,
From a dream, I waken

Will we wish for escape?
Even generations from now?
Will the feeling ever fade?
That we were once outside, and how –
How we got in here; how we became a crowd?


(Stanza 12)
Humanity is slipping
But ever seems to hold its grasp
Over me and the children
Trapped inside this mountain gap
Together the nonsensity
Has lasted
Eternally
Crass, and will remain burning,
Forever, infernally…


NebCat Photography co. 2019

Straight from an 80s womb, Robyn Eggs breaks the mold with her abstraction and appreciation for even the littlest of things. Her unique eye captures a different point of view. Vision requires first to see, for, the point of conception is the apex of creation. Take a trip into another dimension, or just peer through the portals, as Robyn Eggs provides a treat for the Third Eye.

**Originally written September 11, 2017. Previously published on Steemit.com: [https://steemit.com/writing/@robyneggs/1000-followers-epic-tribute-ballad-ode-to-humans] All original photography, graphics and poetry by Robyn Eggs.

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