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I wish I could see the beauty in the world
one, that is clearly dreary, cynical and cold.
This old planet, home to millions of species
and billions of humans, hanging in orbit,
turning, turning, forever turning.
I want to see the romance of the stars,
without knowing they're dead cold and lifeless.
I want to hear music in the crashing waves,
without knowing the seas are rising, and species are dying.
I want to touch the earth and feel its life beating in sync with mine.
I want everyone to taste clean water, hot food and freedom.
But, I know that this show called life is full of spite,
there's no *** of gold at the end of the rainbow.
Just a huge arch of colours in the sky caused by water droplets.
There's no lollipop or band aid big enough for this broken earth's pain.
Lollipops and rainbows only equal tornadoes, and rain.
© JLB
11/08/2014
09:35 BST
you see Steven Bradley and ronnie biggs are destroying the world at the moment

through tornadoes and shark attacks and heat waves and a fire storm in victoria which the

rain couldn’t stop, despite how it stopped, and then ronnie really was having a field day

with the big heat waves attacking the homes of many innocent people, you see Greame Thornes

current life Brian Allan, went to the great ocean road in 2012 and steven bradley used his power

to make every home destroyed, fortunately none of the people died but they are homeless and

that can be worst, well they might not be homeless, but still steven and Ronnie are having a field day

killing off the entire world, and the great ocean road was only the start, you see steven bradley and

Ronnie biggs were starting to make a tornado siege in Texas and demolishing homes forcing people

to be homeless, and then Stephen Bradley said, I have you i have you i have you,if we make the USA

bad, we can make Cronus suffer, and making cronus suffer was the main answer, and then the death

of Stevie Wright, which was made so he can get his hands on ronnie biggs and Stephen Bradley and force them

down but in hindsight, they he can’t stop them alone, and that is what he killed his body, but he had a great life

singing the party anthem called Friday on my mind and Evie let your hair hands down, well he wasn’t the only singer

who died on their way to battle the deadly tornado, you see Lemmy from the band Motorhead was getting sick of the tornadoes in the world

and sang a song to rid the tornadoes away from the after life, here it is

please please please i want the tornado gone

i don’t care how long it takes, it just ain’t welcome here

you see what the world doesn’t know what i know since my death

that all the old criminals down there in christiean hell

are causing problems oh yeah, i want to bring peace

and i want the devil to be calmed

my music was heavy but i ain’t as bad as the great

roninie Biggs and Stephen Bradley, they caused a lot of problems

please people of the earth, please take procautions

if you want to save your home and not want these satan criminals to win, well fine

but the police aren’t against you, please save yourselves

and don’t put the evil ronnie ‘Biggs and Stephen Bradley into the the police mans voices

because dudes it’s hard you see

I am not at all happy oh no not me

you see these criminals were evil, and that is not like my music

we need to calm these christians who think loud music is the work of the devil

i think i see Ted Bundy, and he is still killing despite being dead

and osama is having a field day making you guys hate muslims

dudes, all this isn’t easy to beat, like my mate Stevie Wright from a a band called the easy beats

we need to get together and stop these evil criminals,

because the only way if we can find eternal happiness is if we all worked together

please please please stop all the world, like heal the world and make it a better place

for me and Stevie and the entire human race, and micheal Jackson who sang that wonderful song

make this universe stronger for you and me, and i must tell you, stop evil stop evil

stop the evil spirits from terrorising our world, you see as i played my guitar really loud to hopefully calm Ronnie and Stephen down

I know it’s the weather, and i know it ain’t believable, but believe me, i wanted to die, to save the world from evil spirits

and this is causing a lot of problems with every member of the earth, and the earth can be destroyed if we don’t stop the evil

the way you stop the evil is get yourself fixed and think about your actions and get rid of the brian Allan word protectaselfer, ya know

all they care about is protecting themselves and not give a **** about anyone else and Stevie Wright sang

we are going to have fun on new years eve la la la la la la la la la

get with the girls who are so pretty la la la la la

and don’t get too drunk man it’s not real cool, it just takes the man out of you

and as we are getting close to new years eve, we are hoping that nothing known to man takes away the problems of nye

and Lemmy and Stevie wright get together to create the peace of this entire earth, and tara is starting to cause problems

with the earth, saying our future is going to be bad, when the world is too wrong for Tara

so Lemmy from Motorhead and Stevie Wright gathered together on Jupiter where Stephen Bradley and Ronnie Biggs are

to force the tornadoes to not cause too many problems, but bad guys are powerful up here, and the best thing to do is

just be yourself and protect each other on earth and enjoy themselves and stop the reign of evil which is happening in the cosmos
Tamara Fraser Sep 2016
Cold hands warm heart they say.
Always clutching cold hands on warm nights;
being together yet feeling alone;
aroused, stimulated, distracted, absent-minded,
lost, perplexed,
all at the same time as focused,
like steel blades and the precision of knives.
You know what this is.
But you can’t ever outrun its fingers.
Can’t pull your throat out from under a choking hold.

Hiding is like allowing the wolf to catch your scent;
fighting is like battling a wave;
accepting is like russian roulette.
Are you daring enough to play?

‘Why are you crying over that?’
People said to me
in scolding tones and glacier eyes.

I can’t be this vulnerable; it’s spiky
and stinging and
rolling over hurdles backward.
Condense, squeeze it down so
you don’t have to swallow too hard.

Emotional vulnerability is feeling all those
spikes of emotions, all those acute,
mount everest’s climbed without warm clothes
allowing them to hit you full in the face,
being driven under the pull of a wave.

We feel these rides of our lives,
micro moments in days of episodes.
There is nothing like intimacy to completely throw you
off everything;
the superficial cover to fill out the empty spot.

We roll onwards in our spirals;
our cycles and roundabouts of fear and self-pity;
contempt follows us whilst
dusty, aged hope drives us.
I know my triggers.
I know the cycle I feed, I bleed into,
I run chased by myself,
branching into more cycles,
looping on each other in
disgusting order;
concentric whirls,
at alarming speed,
facing walled obstacles,
tackling nightmares hands bound up
waiting to see if someone can pull you up and out
or make you draw
the ugly patterns
of your own mind games
out in circles, broken lines
and scratches.

I was emotionally abandoned.
In a realm of angry, biting storms and
numbing head spins.
Knocked around by severe internal seasons,
wearing sweaters under hot sun,
or drowning in half-shirts under icy rain,
I can keep it away.
Don’t look.
Suppress.
Bite down on something hard
before you scream.

And then they burst in bright beautiful sparks;
feeling swept in delicious tastes,
explosive episodes,
rapturous warmth and synchronised heartbeats.
Painful glows and inspiring tornadoes;
destruction and recreation,
a chaotic peace and warm sweats,
stinging burns and hot tears
mixed with not-so-equal parts
of silken nights and glorious
wakeful dreaming.

'Of course you may hurt, of course you may cry.
Of course you can sing and laugh and ache, anything
you want to try.'

And this is why we feel.
Why we need to feel.
Why we love the slow smoulder of being caught up.
Caught up in emotions and their separate rides;
shifting speeds and tracks each new time
they crawl to our surface again.
Holding back is wasting precious passions;
it’s exhaustion you crave when everything else is
flat, blank, rigorous rigid routine and ripping open
empty boxes.

So you say I always have cold hands.
Cold hands warm heart they say.
This is the reason I love you.
This is the reason I wait for you,
to realise you love me too.
This is the reason I can only
hope
you make the right choice.
Not for me, for them, for anyone.
For you.
I don’t have a say anymore.
I never did.
I can’t speak, or help, or keep you warm anymore.
I can’t be your escapism.
I can’t be crack, dope, speed or any of your illicit nonsense.
I can’t be your forbidden fruit
in your late night feast;
creeping around, undercover lover,
giving you pleasure and happiness and smiles
locked under secrets and
silent words.
I’ll seethe and brood
underneath you, caged in the dark
shadow of your body
dreaming up it’s presence before I fall to sleep.

Cold hands warm heart they say.
Fuel my fire.
Keep my hands cold.
Missy May 2015
For a creation was devised of the purest and simplest elements in life
When the calming and smooth sensation of water caressed your bones, it carved canals of strength along the way
Your skin crawled and crept past your defined chin to bind with its lover
and when the tendon reached the muscle, it fused in an unbreakable relationship
Baby, the sight of your eyes shatters the crystallization of the finest glass
And your voice pierces the night fog leaving a path for only you
The kindness of your heart poured into the rivers to feed oxygen to all of those who depended on it
Your body contains the same carbon that creates sparkling diamonds
The majority of the oxygen is the same element creating tornadoes, or when fused to hydrogen to make a hurricane
Do you see how powerful you are made?
Your soft lips are the same lips that can produce sound in an empty canyon
Your bones are the base of your embrace when you sweep me off my feet
That mind is the exact replica that discovered how to survive the times that were a bigger struggle than planned
Despite all of these acts, how simple or extravagant
You are the perfect arrangement of atoms that hold my hand when I am scared to carry on alone
And the same arrangement of atoms that pull me close and kiss my lips
One might say these actions, however small, have a stronger effect than any hurricane, or tornado, or diamond
For you are a creation devised of the purest and simplest elements in life
And you are completely mine
ghost queen Nov 2019
You ask why I am anxious, why i am depressed, let me list for you the reasons why:

Global warming
Melting glaciers
Heatwaves
Polar vertices
Category 6 hurricanes
F5 Tornadoes
Droughts
Desertification
Floods
Wild fires
Snowless winters
Ice free arctic
Antarctic ice shelf collapse
Greenland glacier melting
Perma forst thawing

Ocean warming
Ocean acidification
Coral bleaching
Sea level rising
Coastal erosion
Over fishing
Fisheries collapse
Plankton extinction
Fertilizer run offs
Chemical pollution
Raw sewage dumping
Red algae blooms
Vibrio explosions

Ozone layer depletion
Lack of fresh potable water
Acid rain
Top soil depletion
Dead soil
Deforestation
Banana palm tree cultivation
Evasive species
Overpopulation
Urban sprawl
Insect apocalypse
Animal extinction
Lower biodiversity
Bird apocalypse
Bee apocalypse
Bat apocalypse
Amphibian apocalypse

Aging nuclear power plants
Superfund sites
Radioactive contamination
Three mile island, Chernobyl, Fukushima
Endocrine disrupters
PBAs
Autism
***** count collapse
Effeminization of men

Noise pollution
Light pollution
Chronic stress
Diabetes
Metabolic diseases
Over eating
Obesity

Drug resistances
New and emerging diseases
Epidemics pandemics
Swine and bird flu
Genetic modification
Biotech tech
nano tech
Crispr
DNA
genetic testing
Designer babies
Aging population
Health care rising
Unaffordable medications
Uninsured
Medicare of all
Medical bankruptcy
Social security bankruptcy

Rise of terrorism
Rise of extremism
Far right
Alt right
Lack of education
Masculine identity crisis
Emasculation of men
Decline of boys
Rise of girls

Increasing depression and anxiety
Increase anxiety depression among young girls
Lack of human connection
Social isolation
Social awkwardness
Snowflake generation
Disintegration of the family
Suicides
Social media addiction
**** addiction
Drug addiction
Alcohol addiction

Lack of equality
Political corruption
Kleptocracy
Corporatocracy
Plutocracy
Oligarchy
New American aristocracy
Too big to fail
Privatize profits, socialize losses
Decline of democracy
Fascism
Terrorism
Religious extremism
Religious tension
Political divisiveness
National unity
Second American civil war
Helplessness of the common man

Big data
Data protection
Algorithms
Internet tracking
Lost of privacy
Artificial intelligence
Singularity
AI white collar job lost
AI automation
AI back office
Autonomous AI
5G supremacy
Quantum computer supremacy
Virtual reality
Augmented reality
Cybernetics
Chronophobia
Outsourcing
Off shoring
On shoring

Over education
Under employment
Skills gap
3rd world immigration
La reconquista
Cultural dilution
Status quo
Declining economies
Housing crisis
Housing cost
Homelessness
Illiteracy
Hunger
Unemployment
Full employment
Racism
Intolerance
Race relationships
Increasing crime
Student loans
Credit card debt
High mortgages
7 year car loans
Inverse yield curve
52 week high

Wars
Military interventions
Social uprisings
Dwindling resources
Resources conflicts
Rare earth metals
Depletion of helium
Peak oil
Fracking
Water wars
Climate refugees
A list of worries people face today that is causing anxiety and depression
Marshall Gass Apr 2014
The deepest understanding  between lovers
stands majestically above the deepest abyss
as if, unbreakable and pure in its unreachable,
unbreakable bond.

Whatever melts this emotion together
was forged in a hotter furnace than ever found
that only two people can understand.

Rising above the highest tide
soaring above tornadoes and typhoons
and cruising along points of paradise
available only to the two of them.

How serene it feels to know
that your own reflection mirrors
in the other person and their every nuance
is written into your own poems
adding the rhyme and rhythm
for your own journey together.

Author Notes
Feel like this at times?
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
mk  Jul 2016
a woman is me.
mk Jul 2016
so maybe we do call our battleships "she"
and name our tornadoes after women
maybe i am a warrior and a fighter
a champion and a queen

or maybe i'm just a woman

with my own set of flaws and weaknesses
fighting through the jungle of confusion
maybe i'm just a woman
doing her ******* best
to be the best.

maybe i wasn't named after tornadoes,
maybe tornadoes were named after me.
Robert Ronnow Mar 2019
Off the train I hit the streets
and start laughing. This is ridiculous,
incomprehensible. How can innumerable bipeds
have individual inner lives. Why are they doing
what they’re doing? I have no answer
New York City but to also go about my business
in this case prepare for surgery, survival.

But why survive with so many exact replicas
to replace me? A swarm of ants or hive of bees,
social organisms they’re called, climbing
over each other, avoiding bumping and amazingly
making way, anticipating the sudden turns
and straight paths of others, strangers but brothers,
sisters incubating, the cells of a small
*****, nodes of a single semi-conscious organism.

The concept of a higher power that cares
for me is also risible yet how else
can I explain the surgeon and his team,
robots and magnetic resonance imaging machines,
all primed and trained to save my life.
They are not particularly interested in what
I do with my time. I am immediately
in love with the Irish brogue of the head nurse,

the Indian skin of the physician’s assistant.
The long extraordinarily thin
fingers of the famous surgeon. All
mine to savor (and the other cancer patients).
Back on the streets, rush to the train.
So many women to choose from! One
in fishnet stockings stands out, tall
calm, still, graceful. No cell, no hair, no hurry.

Yesterday’s suicidal thoughts: the mind
is a clever servant, insufferable master. Therefore,
meditate on this: absolute need, dependence on the Other.
I still like Hombre, The Shootist and Ulzana’s Raid
but realize those dead heroes
were subordinate to society: the gun manufacturers who armed them.
Thus, I go for cancer tests, accepting, not predicting results.
Hero accepting help.

A torrential rain following five days of flooding,
tornadoes out west busting up wooden towns
all because too many of us are hoarding plastic, herding electrons.
None of us know how it will end, what the outcome will be
(of our surgery). The best that can be said
is Don’t forget to breathe. And you might
as well believe in that higher power.
www.ronnowpoetry.com

--title from a tune by Billy Strayhorn
The Terry Tree  Nov 2014
Birdsong
The Terry Tree Nov 2014
Topaz dreams and fire flowers
Find their way into
Shadows and streams
In the space between
Our hearts and minds
Seams of alchemy
Blowing stars into birds
To touch our courageous
Sunlit beams
Dripping
Kissing
We

Keep
Running from our light
Praying that we’ll stay
Painting colors oh so bright
In the emotions we display
Flying

We are a painting in one another
A brush stroke full of hope
A paradox of intimately curious
Wings that have found a way to cope
Building a birdhouse home
On the backs of each other
Bones and sacred stones
A paradox of intimately curious
Wild tornadoes

Embracing
We walk in dark we walk in day
With footsteps often clumsy
And telepathy is not as easy as
Psychics will convey

Your hair is made of flowers
Or at least it seems that way
Our hearts are painted gold close to
The way the yellow birds that play
Around us when we stand
Glowing in our space
Exclusively
Beneath the tree
We made
Where Amen’s tears
The sun god
Rain

Around our love
Rushing in rushing out
Breathing in breathing out
Hold me close push me away
Both of us praying the other
One will stay
Kneeling
Pray

We are a painting in one another
A brush stroke full of hope
A paradox of intimately curious
Wings that have found a way to cope
Building a birdhouse home
On the backs of each other
Bones and sacred stones
A paradox of intimately curious
Wild tornadoes

This is our butterfly parade

© tHE tERRY tREE
Zach Gomes May 2011
On a hot hot day
nothing better than
sweet sticky rice coconut
milk a big ripe mango

That, I felt, was what the fly thought
he touched down onto my mango,
it was so sweet, pouring
saccharine sweat
ripe slabs of yellow smorgasborg
endless pleasure of sugar mango flesh
it seemed good to the fly

Across the water,
pressing over the mountains,
opaque threads of rain, like
slim tornadoes twisting ash into the clouds
moved this way
things never looked good for the fly

He ate nonstop, boozed up on mango
an unlimited supply of yellow stuff
he gained weight by the second
there was no point in stopping

the more juice the mango sweat
the stickier its meat
the more mango the drunk fly ate,
the further he sank into its flesh
he was stuck, flailed his stupid legs
in the air as if more flies coming
would rather help him than eat
juicy golden mango feast

he died there, I think
the monsoon would make sure of it
I tossed the mango, sticky rice
the styrofoam plate
thinking it spoiled, fearing the rain
rhiannon  Sep 2018
storms
rhiannon Sep 2018
Disturbances, however hard they try,
Will always be horrifying.
Now alarming is just the thing,
To get me wondering if disturbances are atrocious.

The ramp is not nonthermal!
the ramp is exceptionally nonthermal.
A ramp is hot. a ramp is nonthermal,
a ramp is caloric, however.

hardships are not lean!
hardships are exceptionally zoftig.
Do hardships make you shiver?
do they?

Don't belive that gales are big?
gales are little beyond belief.
Now unimportant is just the thing,
To get me wondering if gales are shrimpy.

I cannot help but stop and look at depressing tornadoes.
Do tornadoes make you shiver?
do they?

Cyclones, however hard they try,
Will always be traumatic.
Never forget the harmful and painful cyclones
A  May 2018
Tornado Alley
A May 2018
People talk about Tornado Alley,

The part of the U.S where I live.
They act like tornadoes touch down every week in May through October,
Like storms go through every other week.
Like everyone’s not scared and they’re always calm.

The truth is,
Tornado Alley’s not like that.

Tornado Alley is worrying
When a tornado touches down only five miles from your house,
Your family’s in the basement,
Wondering if everything’s all right,
And if your house will be damaged.

Tornado Alley is praying a storm will pass,
The ever-looming threat of a supercell,
Swirling clouds above your roof,
The sky a nasty green and purple.

Tornado Alley is taking everything you have for granted,
Then being scared when it’s threatened.

Tornado Alley is knowing tornadoes exist,
But being thankful that you’re not in San Francisco,
Or Hawaii, Florida, the coasts.

Tornado Alley is flat plains and wide open spaces,
Not being afraid of a storm,
But of what lurks when the beginning is over.

— The End —