‘For We Will Have Paid Mother Nature Our Dues’: How Nature Shapes Human Behavior
Remix Your Life poet Kyle Lamberson grew up in Oakland, and he writes about how natural resources shape human endeavors.
for we will have paid mother nature our dues
People morph through buildings,
their coffee warm in early mornings,
swarming, frantic, and anxious,
like a queen ant observing larval metamorphosis forming,
we are mother earth’s children,
she has burned us,
made us go to war for her resources for its fortune,
and it has formed us, to natures war we do not forfeit.
Some call women whores and say her virtue is her quietness
but girl, you are more, a princess even lioness,
disregard the disrespect stick to pride and roar
like what I heard a night before on my front porch
a mountain lion’s cry,
for her home is ever more less hers,
I doubt a soul heard the howl
amidst the loudness of the night,
I have learned to say what others may disdain,
and when I walk onto the pavement
all steps I take are out of place,
my home is more a cave,
I sense the warming patience
like a feline basking in the light of day observing,
the alien airplanes soaring across the blue,
never again will I read off dead trees to see what’s new,
when man does not exist and his pyramids collapse,
it will not be a disaster,
for we will have paid mother nature our dues.
People morph through buildings,
their coffee warm in early mornings,
swarming, frantic, and anxious,
like a queen ant observing larval metamorphosis forming,
we are mother earth’s children,
she has burned us,
made us go to war for her resources for its fortune,
and it has formed us, to natures war we do not forfeit.
Some call women whores and say her virtue is her quietness
but girl, you are more, a princess even lioness,
disregard the disrespect stick to pride and roar
like what I heard a night before on my front porch
a mountain lion’s cry,
for her home is ever more less hers,
I doubt a soul heard the howl
amidst the loudness of the night,
I have learned to say what others may disdain,
and when I walk onto the pavement
all steps I take are out of place,
my home is more a cave,
I sense the warming patience
like a feline basking in the light of day observing,
the alien airplanes soaring across the blue,
never again will I read off dead trees to see what’s new,
when man does not exist and his pyramids collapse,
it will not be a disaster,
for we will have paid mother nature our dues.