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Zywa 1d
Mosquitoes may drink my blood
I stay here to enjoy myself
the blood of the moon

the fireflies in the garden
and the whooping children
around a campfire somewhere

...Behind, a freight train rumbles past
...Once the hooves of bison pounded there

My dreams are blind and nameless
They **** on the spot
and eat when I'm away

Maybe it would be easier
without them, but when I see them
asleep, everything is fine

...Behind, a freight train rumbles past
...Once the hooves of bison pounded there
Song "Buffalo Replaced" (2023, Mitski, album "The Land is Inhospitable and So Are We")

Collection "Reaching out"
Let us take a moment
And break this down
If you don't believe  
In global warming
By now
You're probably not
Going to come round

But perhaps
We could take a step back
To when pollution was indeed
A matter of fact
Such as
The black factory smoke
And runoff waste
That fills our water ways
Coal soot that fills our lungs and skies
Sewage that fills our bays

Poisonous smog
Settling over our industrial cities
Toxic chemicals giving birth
Have you no empathy nor pity
"As our"
Emissions are ever choking
Scorching the earth

Can we start over
Sure it's no big deal
Can we at least agree
That pollution is real?
Traveler 🧳 Tim
let's meet on spring,
when everything else of me is alive.
but when the season of autumn appears,
will you also come and arrive?
when everything else of me is wilting,
will you also come and arrive?
Serena Sep 18
Maybe the ocean whispers things into our ears
and it eats through all the filling in our heads
cements itself in that one place we were keeping secret
and the visions of the truths we wanted replace themselves
with hollow melodies and salty foam.
taste the bamboo in the sea
Steve Page Sep 10
I don't do seasons.

What's the point?
Mother Nature pays no attention
anymore - no adherence
to long established norms.
Unreliable, like the rest.
Incomprehensible at best.

So why bother?
Why consider
this season's wardrobe?
Why plan life around the calendar,
when you need any-weather clothes?

So I don't do seasons.
I don't do disappointment.
I don't do expectations.
I just plan for the unplanned
and weather the summer storms.

I'm a man for no seasons.
Like many places around the world, the UK's weather has been unpredictable of late.
Kitt Sep 5
Our mother, Gaia, shall never die
Though for us I cannot speak
When Terra does turn her back to our kind
Our might shall seem so meek
Roaring flames do lick her skin
While Chaos’ storms do rage
But Mother Earth will retreat within
And turn to a blank new page.

Zeus will fall when the skies go black
His wife, Hera, to follow when families dissolve
Once the gods fall there’ll be no way back
And hubris will be our final resolve.
Chronus may falter when there’s nobody alive
To observe the passage of hours
When the clocks have all stopped,
Gears unturning under toppled clock towers
No grandfathers left to chime.
But Gaia will live on in sleep so bereft
Long after we’re lost to time.

With no men to wage wars, Ares will fade
Athena too as innovation runs dry
Aphrodite may weep when there’s no love to be made
Hermes, when there’s nowhere to fly
And though our sun will live past our end,
There’ll be no chariot of gold
No homes, no hearths for Hestia to tend
And no music for Apollo to behold

We have long lost one of the faces
Of Artemis, the huntress under moonlight’s reign
And civilization (so-called) now erases
Pan, the wild god, and his sacred domain
What next, I now ask, shall we bid our farewell?
What aspect of humanity lost?
As we stumble along nearer to Hell
Whom shall be the next forgot?

But fear thee not, for life’s most precious gift
is the transience, the temporal nature of Earth
All will change, all will shift
and perhaps a different Cosmos may birth.
Once the stardust settles, a new something to arrive
And we shall perhaps there meet once again
Tied by fresh cords of fate to share new lives.

And all the while, she’s waited for us
Watching and loving those souls immortal
Taking new forms now from different dust
She’ll rejoice and rebirth the primordial
They will rise and then fall and eventually make way
For the pantheon of a new universe to arise
Perhaps not all will look the same--
But close enough for essence to find.
ghost queen Sep 4
angry is the sun burning the sky
baking and pummeling all that is living
to cry or pray to a god who doesn’t listen
i fear we’ve been forgotten and forsaken
we see it now the apocalypse
we can no longer hide or run
i have made peace with what is about to come
it's not,
too late
to feel again

even the broken
can be restored
and given a second chance.

just sit back
and relax.

good things will
come to those
who patiently wait for fate.

you thought that
was the end
of your world

but the end,
is just the

and those
good things
are never-ending

it's not,
too late
to feel again.

change your
heart and

and don't
drown in the
depths of time sublime.
Man Aug 28
Embrace change,
Welcome the weird
And invite in the strange.
Nothing to fear,
But what that yet
We don't understand.
Nothing to fear
But the feeling;
That we have still yet to comprehend.
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