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The sky is weeping.
As the burning star retreats.
To give us some reprieve.
At the Lord's calling.

The sky is weeping.
Tears, sour and rancid.
That were once pure and sweet.
Because we refused to hear nature's calling.

The sun is angry.
The poles are splitting.
The cold is building; waiting,
To freeze the waters that are boiling.

We were warned,
But we didn't listen.
Stubborn, refusing to take action.
But nature is done talking.

Done, warning lesser beings.
For the doom once foretold,
Is at the shores of reality.
I only hope, its not too late,
To do anything.
Hayleigh Mar 2019
These people, these lives, these houses, these homes, these hills, these trees, these animals, these rivers, these seas.
We are not building an empire, we are destroying one, and every living, breathing thing in it.
We are walking catastrophes, entire tsunamis tripping off our tongues, rivers rolling between our lips. Streams of change, ebbing through microplastic in our veins with nets around our necks.
Let us be the change we want to see in the world, let us plant trees, climb to the top of them and scream from the top of our lungs for every single thing we are grateful for, let this planet be at the very top of that list.
As long as we inhale and exhale every moment; every memory, every molecule on this earth, let us not forget, we belong to it, and not the other way round.
There is so much yet we can do, so many lives we can transform, entire continents we can claim and cure.
Let us find peace before we are torn to pieces by our very own hands.
chitragupta Mar 2019
Furnished rooms, refined cooling
An angry Sun, a helpless ozone layer
Lavish resorts, palatial homes
The Ents are silent in their prayers
Roaring turbines, whirring motors
****** waters, crying to be set free
Clicks and clacks, a touch and a swipe
Birds fall to the alien magnetic field
Travel the world, not fast enough
Dig and mine, crashing harbour wave
Fossils spent, air wears the smoke
Dinner is served on the tectonic plates

Every day the water becomes a little fuller to the brim
Every day the air becomes a little less thin
Every day the world becomes a little too big
Every day the land becomes a little less green
My second favourite colour next to blue.
But you've guessed what this is about haven't you?
If only we could begin again and slow down the pernicious pace
We ruin our oceans, the land, our air even outer space.
If only we avoided such precarious paths that may lead to disparity
If only we knew what action is needed now, to deal with the reality.
Ecologists warned, yet still observe with ever-growing anxiety
the growth of harmful long-term effects on Earth's biodiversity.
If only the air wasn't gravely polluted, so the atmosphere begins to fail,
so wreathed by carbon dioxide layers, extremes to climate may prevail.
If only Earth's lungs cease being shrunk by profits heedless exploitation,
existing relationships are considered scarcely in these aberrations.
If only a solution for discarded synthetics which float in ugly hordes
on oceans global drifts, disaster occurs wherever it reaches landfall.
If only we can do something, a belated but resounding universal call,
If only we can safeguard the future before there are no options at all.
If only we could begin again and slow the ruinous pace... if only

If Only

M C Crowder
@scorsby
19th November 2018
I first wrote song lyrics in 1978, song lyrics not so long, but it's message hasn't changed
Amoy Feb 2018
By AMOY

Leaves on the tree falling down to my feet..
Lay and sleep…... I say for you will  return to Mother earth..
You 'll see ……
You'll  meet many friends along the way...
Little feet, tiny feet, Mr. worm, Mr. Squirrel and old lady Wind...ohh...She's a Swirl!..
have fun  I say, for the rain will be here soon and days will still be bright til night falls and old man snow stirs ... brrrrr...brrrrr.. sending tiny little snow flakes our way ahhh ...ahhh....mother earth breaths again
Frances Taylor Dec 2018
Us humans are beautiful, original creations
but we are -  
temporary.
We make up such a tiny part
of the universe and all of her stars.
Just one second of an hour - our time on earth.
Just one second of an hour - is that all its worth?
The damage we’ve created so far,
is unbelievable,
inconceivable,
unreconcilable maybe?
In the words of Al Gore,
the truth is inconvenient
so much so
some don’t even believe in it.
Our world leaders say climate change isn’t real,
well that's not how the world's expert scientists feel.
We are just a speck, a tiny cog in a giant wheel,
but so powerful.
We have the power to create change.
To stop Climate Change.
Sourodeep Oct 2018
A surreal landscape,
A elegant bend of the river,
A small pebble taking shape
For us its now or never.

A song once sung
By the chirpy sparrow,
The grass where we belong
Now captured by the hollow.

Somewhere far away
Few words get scribbled
Few tunes get murmured,
Wrinkled faces prayed
But on the yellow sky,
The sun faded and faded...
james nordlund Oct 2018
Since our political system has been laid bare, after RumputiN was installed
in the Blackhouse, it's beautiful complex of lack of complexity, in a word,
conspiracy of conspiracies, has moved me and "...we(e),..." to have as a few
of my favorite things be far more reaching questions, out of necessity. Like,
without acknowledging, and demanding others do the same, that it's been
purposely engineered to be a criminal injustice system instead, how can one
even have a real conversation that would lead to potential for real change
of it taking place in reality, if you don't know who you were, where you've
been, how on God's green Earth can you expect to know who..., where you are
and what's going on, necessary to start thinking about changing anything,
even yourself, as well as directing who you will be and where you will
be going, etc.?  Swine slaughtering lower-middle-class to poor men en masse,
mostly of color, instead of just doing the usual liquidation of their ases
and assets, are just serial murderers masquerading as cops, and what goes
around comes around, no?  If you're not taking bullets you're making them.  
Also, people are fed up with felonious RumputiN and his rootin' tootin'
organized crime family spree from the Blackhouse, which should be prosecuted
using the RICO Statute instead of just being elaborately covered up by Mueller
for he's not using it and he's handing out immunities like soldiers candy to
Iraqi kids, duh.  I would add some salient pointless points, beyond the 'empty
boat' of Zen, and 'useless tree' of the Tao, we can understand the burden
placed on our shoulders by our ancestry not exercising their responsibilities
as they should have, and thereby it's Siamese twin sisters, their freedoms,
Withered like unused muscles as well, as a panultimate challenge, saving
humanity, literally. Also, understanding Jung's "80 % of all actions, thoughts,
feelings we have, that we acknowledge, or don't, perceive or don't, are
compensatory towards our pasts", necessitates an integral understanding of
Satre's existentialism' meaning of angst, as experience integral to life, not
opposed to it, but, rather, central to it, and a nexus of it.  This is more
than an embracing of gestalt's, Perls', moment, now. Moving away from sophist
perspective, we also experience the meaning of life is struggle, which comes
through all our meaningful work, succinctly. Further, what is life beyond that
foci is also, the where, when, who, how, and sometimes why too (but never Y2K)
of life; beyond our masks and ego fulfilling stories, schtick, lines, etc..
Do we struggle, not just as lifelong students, with the impossible, not just
the improbable.  Yet, it's actually more layered than that in a much larger
dimensional paradigm than 4 dimensions.  Yes, the effects of our causes in any
action usually have effects that undo our causes as we act them out, intend,
present them, etc..  Yet, those more superficial, linear, first conclusion
layers are not less effective, per se, as the complexity of Karma, Dharma are
beyond our normal comprehension. What is the root of thought, feeling, the root
of feeling, being, the root of being, the extent to which we struggle with what
it is, no?  For, as the following twig of poetree gleans: Soul//
As my breath
is the one, prana,/
And the life's pulse, pala,/
Reaching angelic source, sura,/

So is this mind, manas, a
/  Flowering unfoldment,
/ Unendingly touching
/ The eye
that would it see,/  
Unbeckoning unto thee./
As well, this Bodhi, a temple,/

Of the four and fifth, nur,/  
So entered by atma, a ray of thy sun,/  
Thus being
winged, and
/  As such with wind,/
Flying only in dharma's dance,/
Is returning
to, Brahma, you./  For, there yet, by thy grace, go I./  
We are not who we think
we are, we are, rather, the extent to which we struggle to evolve to be some-
things, spirit, soul, Bodhi, etc., on the path of study that could and should
be one, you, me, forever asked and never answered.  Yet, even if we lived as
prayer, our light only adding to the well of light, our every step in grace,
leaving no footprints that followed none, echoing in all ways, always,
sometimes, like pulling teeth, "...we(e),...", must stalk our words from our
insides 'til we wrangle them, like cats, to the tip of our tongues, no?  For,
"Words weren't meant for cowards..." and we must "be brave...", Happy Rhodes.
We can't allow ourselves the luxury of taking our supposedly 'golden silence'
all the way to the bank, as your average bear does.  These are the end times,
we successfully struggle, to abolish global defacto-slavery by the non-renew-
able energies' corporate structure's machine and it's convolution, against
the global oligarchy's premeditated mass-****** of 7.5 billion people, or
humanity's extinct.  Gandhi, "(supposed) science is the root of all opression"
and, "...we(e),..." must be the change we want in the world".  Is not life
relation, are we not responsible for one another, are not all threads in
the fabric of life needed, as is the evoliutionary ones' mendings, for we
can't allow it to be torn asunder?  If not here, then where, if not now, when,
not you, who? Viva la evolucion.  Indivisible, illimitable you, GOTV.
Please copy, share as you will. this GOTV twig of poetree   :)   reality
Gwilled Cheese Sep 2018
Gonna carry out the feministic agenda
Gonna live, laugh and love lasagna
Gonna save the earth from the ocean
Gonna let the boys show some kinda emotion
Ravioli, yo, that pasta is tenda
Now what should I call ya, Genda benda?
look mum im a poet
nihiliti Jun 2018
clear as the empty sky
and deeper than the soul of mankind
all
the.
way..
down...

fathoming further than soundwaves
reach their molecular-minuscule hands
into the bluest abyss
below
so far below

but nothing grows
not in holy-bleached waters
baptized in plasma extracted
from our darkest hearts
invisible ink
leaving writing in the sand

walls between
underwater things and we
kings of the continent
shattered like
so much broken glass
ground and tumbled into
beads for our children to
choke on

drowning in empty seas
reaching, never believing
it could happen to us
burning acid dreams
diluted to seem
clear as can be
but we still can't see

the water we drink stinks...

rotten fish/rotten flesh
polluted streams/polluted seas
waste/wasted


death death death
drown drown
down


going.
going...

g (d) o n e --

undone by recycled demon-dreams
money for destroying everything
profit on the apocolypse
prophetically pathetic


(we deserve to drink these sins 'til we drop into the nothing we created)
We bleed our ignorance clearly.
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