There Is Still Good In This World

Dig Deeper

There is still good in this world.
Buried under decades of rock
between mud and bone.

Held down by the weight of men,
dug out again
by their patience.

There is still good in this world
but it is not easily attained.

It is not on the menu
and you cannot buy it
in a store
or have it delivered
by hand
on a whim.

Some good was vaporized
in the 40s,
its shadow projected in carbon
along stone walls.

Some good was eaten by the machine
and by fat cats
with pen claws
and gold teeth
wearing Brioni and Kiton.

Some good was swallowed whole
by the Earth,
tectonically demanded
as a sacrifice
so poems could be written.

Some good was stored
in the back pockets
of forgotten children
lost in the Amazon
climbing trees,
not knowing whether to climb or cry,
fall or jump,
fly or fail.

Most good
was vaccuum sealed
and put in cryogenic freezers
to be thawed out with Disney
in one hundred years.

Good is spoiled in most parts of the world.

Buried under the ocean floors,
recycled into islands
and bottom dwellers,
eaten by the giants that roam there
with their claws wagging behind
turning up dust
and mud
and bone.

There is still good in this world
but we
are not

We search in the wrong places,
hold the wrong hands,
and you,
you know this.

You want to believe
this technological falacy,
this ecumenical calling
of cloud dwelling
but it is foresaken
by men.

There is still good in this world
but it is not in the sky
or beyond
but instead lies buried
between mud and bone.

There is still good in this world
so dig deeper.
It’s down there,


19 comments on “There Is Still Good In This World

  1. Angela says:

    Your work is so powerful and profound.

  2. Talon says:

    God, but I wish we could dig excavate some of the buried good.

    I really enjoyed your writing. Thoughtful and thought-provoking.

    • Hikkii-chan says:

      Talon! I was hoping you’d stop by after having read your poem. Thank you for the encouragement… and yes, I too hope you can excavate some good in your life. We’re all born with shovels…. just not enough of us know how to use them properly.

  3. Artswebshow says:

    This is fantastic.
    i like this

  4. Luke Prater says:

    Great poem. Solid in its sentiment, which I couldn’t agree more with.

    Nice one


    • Hikkii-chan says:

      Thanks for the encouragement, Luke. I’m very happy to have had you visit my site. It’s a sad state of affairs when we have to agree on there still being good in the world, don’t you think? Maybe one day it won’t be up for debate :\

  5. tracyhsays says:

    There is good, lots of it I think. With all the cameras and technology we should see more of it than we do, but then again, cameras can’t look into our souls.
    Very well written poem; glad to have read it.

    • Hikkii-chan says:

      Tracy, I couldn’t agree more with this sentiment. I think if we dig deep enough, even into the internet, we’ll find the positivity. It’s just covered in filth and grime right now… no biggie ^_^ Stop by again, please… it’s a pleasure to have you visit.

  6. 2zpoint says:

    I could picture a monstrous “good” destroying machine dwelling and digging for it. Very intense and so true it seems at time like the good that is in this world just gets buried in so much bullshit that it is hard to tell what’s real and what is not. The only way that I have ever found out if the good I have found was real was when it did not matter any more …some one still cared about my family but by that time it was really too late to enjoy the goodness because it did not matter any more. Peace be with you my friend.

    • Hikkii-chan says:

      Absolutely, sometimes we don’t see something as being ‘good’ until it’s long gone or heading that way. I find myself striving to find goodness and positivity every day, even when it’s not obviously there in front of me. I figure if I can’t find a nugget of positivity in a day then I probably should have stayed in bed…. but then maybe that makes me a weirdo. ^_^

      • 2zpoint says:

        Nah..not weird…Just ahead of the curve. Benjamin Franklin used to write in a journal and keep track of the days events and used it to keep positive and to constantly work on this behavior. People have always said he was a genius…maybe that’s what it takes to be a successful one. Have a great day.

  7. mstevensson says:

    Really interesting words. You have opened up something here that few would like to touch or think of. Excellent words and some wonderful images of dark loss. Really inspirational ending.

    • Hikkii-chan says:

      Thanks so much, Mr Stevensson. It’s unfortunate that what I consider my better poetry (at least to me) is of the variety concerning darkness or loss. For someone who tends to be pretty happy in life I have a difficult time writing about it. I wonder why that is….

      Alas, thanks for stopping by and for the kind words of encouragement ^_^

  8. trisha says:

    It is not on the menu
    and you cannot buy it
    in a store
    or have it delivered
    by hand
    on a whim.

    beautiful lines. a very truthful poem.

  9. Jingle says:

    you made so many friends?
    Glad to see your work read by so many profound poets,

    powerful writing…

  10. Jingle says:

    Happy Halloween to you.
    Hope to see you at our poetry potluck Halloween party tonight. Post a poem on Halloween, or share an old poem unrelated to the theme, link in as soon as we are open, that’s how you get the best result of feedback.
    Feel free to take any awards from this post, enjoy!

  11. Poem Stream says:

    It sounds almost like somebody is looking for something, but I guess if you keep on digging you’ll find some good in life.

Speak Up, Son!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s