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Unnatural Disasters

Ahoy mateys! Welcome back to your favourite unseaworthy pseudo-pirate vessel. Swab some decks or your ears or whatever, I’ve never been much of an authoritarian and frankly am an even worse captain. Certainly no Crunch, that’s for sure. Dude had a Purple Heart! Admittedly fashioned from marshmallow but it’s still the elite martial honour among the more militant of breakfast cereals.

While not a massive fan of the following piece there are some lines that I actually consider among my best ever. I’ll leave you to make your own determinations. Thank you again and enjoy!


“Unnatural Disasters”, November 5, 2020.

Cracks in the ground widen to cavernous gorges 

Sheer and yawning, beckoning forward the gullible and optimistic 

Left dashed upon the ground now far below 

Peaceful winds devolve into cataclysmic tornados 

Shredding the expertly crafted and shoddy alike 

Displacing shattered remnants of planned disorder 

And forcibly dismissing bitter transience of loss 

Tranquil waves recast as devastating tsunami 

Choking the lifeblood from mammals and metaphors

Fledgling dreams evaporating like waking nightmares cannot 

Cursed and impure, tainted beyond sensible measure 

Forever worsening perversion of long-undrinkable well.

————————————————————————————————————————————————-Interestingly the plural of Tsunami can include an “s” or not. Neat.

Maybe this turned out ok in the end after all. Quality wise I mean, as the closing poetic narrative is intended as “Bleaker” than the Greenwich Village nightclub district. That’s an American joke for all my southern neighbors who aren’t attempting the formation of a religious ethno-state of which there are many and whom I unequivocally offer my gratitude and admiration. Excelsior.

I read a line in a book yesterday which really spoke to me, “We’re all broken, the cracks must be filled in with something stronger”. Brandon Sanderson is far and away the best author I’ve discovered in the past year or so. The Stormlight Archive series literally made me laugh, cry and perceive a sense of honour I though had fled me during adolescence when attuning the more factual realities. A pleasant surprise for sure. Particularly always having considered a return to being inspired much more likely to follow being impaled upon a church’s decorative building feature(s). Was that too obtuse? What do I care? I’m inspired… and hopefully once the paramedics arrive, quickly unspired. πŸ™‚

Thank you again, my friends! Your reading, encouraging and any varietal of support means more to me than I am capable of expressing in current available languages. Let me consult some hieroglyphs and I’ll get back to you. Love, peace and truth.

-Alex Blaikie

Categories: original poetry

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A fractured mind held together by cellophane and some used tack.

9 replies

  1. What would happen? If you unified the work so it is mostly visual/physical? e.g. Cracks in the ground widen to cavernous gorges. Tranquil waves recast as devastating tsunami.

    Sheer and yawning, beckoning forward.

    Altering the abstract to be more visual/physical e.g. the gullible and optimistic. planned disorder.

    Liked by 1 person

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