"Garden of Eden" by Jacob Bouttats‘How Eden Weeps’ by Mark Sheeky The Society February 7, 2017 Poetry, The Environment 4 Comments How Eden weeps to see, the ache of every tortured tree. How Eden doth recoil, at bitter cancer of the soil. Man was placed as king of beasts, his palace carved of nature’s stone, and every corner of his house, he builds a city, builds a throne. And every marble floor is made, to subjugate the simple rock, and every mountain gouged is paid with poisoned water, poisoned stock. And every road and robot-lord is fed its fire, ever rushed, and we must witness the accord of gentle nature gently crushed. How Eden weeps to see, the ache of every tortured tree. How Eden doth recoil, at bitter cancer of the soil. Mark Sheeky is a contemporary renaissance artist from Cheshire, United Kingdom; a surrealist oil painter, music composer, piano player, poet, and more. His childhood passion was computer game design and programming, composing music on software of his own design and founding a sound effects library. In 2004 he began oil painting and decided shortly after to devote his life to art. Views expressed by individual poets and writers on this website and by commenters do not represent the views of the entire Society. The comments section on regular posts is meant to be a place for civil and fruitful discussion. Pseudonyms are discouraged. The individual poet or writer featured in a post has the ability to remove any or all comments by emailing submissions@ classicalpoets.org with the details and under the subject title “Remove Comment.” Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Related 4 Responses Kathy F. February 7, 2017 Excellent poem! Reply CAROL HERRING February 7, 2017 Dear Mark, “How Eden Weeps,” so achingly expresses your poetic visual images, the sad destruction of the natural beauty of the earth and man—I agree. Well, that’s just what happened after Eve ate that darned apple and gave it to Adam. However, when I grieve over “man’s smudge,” I counter with my favorite of Gerard Manley Hopkins’ lines: “…for all this nature is never spent. There lives the dearest freshness deep down things…..because the Holy Ghost over the bent world broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.” You must be a kindred spirit to Hopkins. Carol Ann Herring Reply Mark Sheeky February 14, 2017 Thank you Kathy, and praise indeed with the Manley Hopkins comparison, thank you Carol. I wanted to include the word robot in such an old sounding poem, to bring it up to date a little, perhaps to show that times do not change. Reply Dona Fox February 17, 2017 I agree, Mark. Including the robot and other excellent word choices made for a crushing poem. Reply Leave a Reply to Dona Fox Cancel Reply Your email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.