A massive tabular Iceberg
floating among an ice sea.
Climate change-induced chaos,
Between disruption,
A new phenomenon has emerged.

In white, desolate landscapes,
a single building sits there.
Smoke came out from the chimney,
a cozy, warm blanket, and a cup of tea.

Blue and Orca whales,
Penguins and Sea lions as well.
Incomprehensible beauty,
and a reason that I cannot tell.

Pristine mountains, dramatic cliffs,
Majestic white openings, chasms, and rifts.

Mother Nature...Dying,
I can feel her pain.

A couple of Sparrows...Perching,
at the top of the tree.

Standing in silence...Crying,
I see them from my window pane.

Noticing me...Spying,

They caught their breath,
And in a minute, Flee...

Sometimes, I think about our future children
Who will grow up not knowing of the stars
Or of splashing in streams of childhood

But only
Black smog and masks
Filtering the poisons we have put
In our lungs

Will they find familiar
Dead animals, dead plants
A dead Earth?

I wonder
If they will be able to run in fields
Without glass between shrubs and on their feet?

Will they know a life?
Outside of the dystopia of our own making?

Meanwhile, here we sit
Living our lavish lifestyles
Not having a care about
Who dies in the process?

Do we not believe
The polar bear who drowned
From a lack of ice
Has a right to live as well?

Or the animals who starve
From humankind's greed
To eat lavish fish and exotic plants.

Do we not think twice
On pumping our plants
Full of toxins
That destroys every insect and ****
From the inside out
In our bodies?

Do we have no idea that eventually
Our land will hold heat so well
We may no longer dine
For everything is dead?

Or will we only care
When the melting ice
Has flooded our towns

Destroying brick homes
And picket fences with
Swingsets in the backyard.

Will it only matter
When we cannot grill meat
Produced from suffering

Or when there is no more profit to be made
From pumping our rivers with manmade monsters

Wonder about our future children
How will they grow
Living a life of disease and death.

But no, it will only matter
When us in the present start dying.

Even more, it will only be of importance
When it isn’t killing people across the world
But in our own homes.

It will not be significant
Until you lose a mother, a best friend
A lover, a child.

Sometimes I wonder about the children
And I apologize
For the life we have condemned them to.

Come aboard this submarine,
and observe the sea,
so peaceful and serene,
yet terrifying.

Ebbing and flowing,
never shrinking nor growing,
the tides come
for payment due.

Waves crash and slash,
writhing and weaving,
smoothing rocks,
bringing seashells
but spreading plastic.

Coral grows in a thousand hues
amidst the bright and dreary blues.
Fish and octopi wander
unaware of the world so sombre.

Debris and rotting bones sink,
along with skin and dust,
uncaring and indifferent.

Descend into these darkened depths,
no, no need for eyes,
do try and hold your breath.

Curling tails and bladed mandibles,
they promise to only take a bite.
Deceiving lights and crushing pressure,
this place welcomes not.

Finally.
At the depths.
The water crushes your skull,
and you are truly free.

Why is there a plastic bag?

For years, the voices have risen—
from parched fields, from coastlines swallowed by the sea,
from homes turned to ruins by winds too fierce to be natural.

They ask not for mercy,
but for what is owed—
a recognition, a reckoning.

In glass towers and conference halls,
the wealthy nations turn away,
their signatures missing from promises long made,
their hands gripping wealth built on a burning planet.

Storms rage louder now,
waves crash higher,
droughts stretch longer,
but still, they hesitate.

The ones who suffer know the weight of inaction,
measured in lost harvests, displaced families,
children breathing in the dust of what once was home.

And yet, there is hope—
a whisper in the winds,
a trembling in the roots,
a gathering of voices that refuse to be silenced.

This is not charity.
It is justice.
It is the past catching up with the present,
demanding to be acknowledged.

There is no more time for debate.
No room for delay.
The debt must be paid.
Before the earth takes it in blood.

We should save our land
We should save mother nature
We must save it today
Else, it will be past the point of no return.

We have to tell our children
Who are our future.

Global warming is crushing the earth
Rising temperature can slaughter the plants and animals.

To control the temperature of the earth
We have to teach our children
Don't use plastic bags.

Plastic bags are really handy
But they are polluting our environment.

It's -35 degrees where I am,
Snowing blizzards that block up roads,
Grumbling adults surround me,
I marvel at their ignorance as they say,
"surely...not another snow day,"
It's so strange, surreal - surely they can see...?
I see a planet defiant in the face of the parasite called humanity.

...when I found out that coal power plant ash produces more uranium, toxic chemicals and heavy metals than nuclear power plants.