10-06-2016, 06:04 AM
Adelaide Spring
Edit 1
We ask too much of turbines in a gale
of springtime fury, lonely crowd of teens
stood up long-limbed and naked, to prevail
against rage-storms of passion, wind that keens
to shatter or compel. They have their use:
like adolescents, windmills’ dance provides
blind power, strong desire, electric juice
all green as summer grass; fair Earth abides.
But plugged-in turbine-kids - when pressure peaks
in statewide gusts their raving, lawless surge
flips off the careful grid of rules that seeks
to balance and constrain their pulsing urge.
How then can windmills, driven, sublimate
their hot vibes without darkening the state?
original version;
We ask too much of turbines in a gale
of springtime fury, like a crowd of teens
stood up long-limbed and naked, to prevail
against rage-storms of passion, wind that keens
to shatter or compel. They have their use:
like adolescents, windmills’ dance provides
blind power, strong desire, electric juice
all green as summer grass - fair Earth abides.
But like exploited teens, when pressure peaks
in statewide hurricanes their lawless surge
flips off the careful grid of rules that seeks
to balance and restrain their massive urge.
How then can windmills, driven, sublimate
their impulse without darkening the state?
Edit 1
We ask too much of turbines in a gale
of springtime fury, lonely crowd of teens
stood up long-limbed and naked, to prevail
against rage-storms of passion, wind that keens
to shatter or compel. They have their use:
like adolescents, windmills’ dance provides
blind power, strong desire, electric juice
all green as summer grass; fair Earth abides.
But plugged-in turbine-kids - when pressure peaks
in statewide gusts their raving, lawless surge
flips off the careful grid of rules that seeks
to balance and constrain their pulsing urge.
How then can windmills, driven, sublimate
their hot vibes without darkening the state?
original version;
We ask too much of turbines in a gale
of springtime fury, like a crowd of teens
stood up long-limbed and naked, to prevail
against rage-storms of passion, wind that keens
to shatter or compel. They have their use:
like adolescents, windmills’ dance provides
blind power, strong desire, electric juice
all green as summer grass - fair Earth abides.
But like exploited teens, when pressure peaks
in statewide hurricanes their lawless surge
flips off the careful grid of rules that seeks
to balance and restrain their massive urge.
How then can windmills, driven, sublimate
their impulse without darkening the state?
Non-practicing atheist

