Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Betty 4d
Larks don't need parks

They need ploughed fields and waving grain

If they are to remain

They soar and sing of joy unbound

But they are rarely found
Skylarks are becoming rare
All around is the symphony of nature, we all need but to listen
What sweet song bird beckons his love
What silvery fish leaps to waters above
What tear shaped dew befalls the grass
What sustained wood of golden brass
What insect call of buzz and hum
What water beating a rock like a drum

All around is the symphony of nature, we all need but to listen
What cold breeze sweeps the land
What shaped the stone with windy hand
The reds and whites of mountains rise
What raptors soaring hunt with cries
What arid wind provide the breeze
What sweet fruit fall from mesquite trees

All around is the symphony of nature, we all need but to listen
What emerald fur coats the ground
What colourful buds blossom to be found
What grazing goat or elk does call
What primordial leviathan does the lake trawl
What chittering tree folk bound and play
What beautiful land inspires dreams of fae

All around is the symphony of nature, we all need but to listen
What black scars paint across the land
What dark smog clouds the sky
What metallic beasts speed across the ground
What obelisks of the new age rise and fall
What plastics change tides of the sea

Why
Why do we take this gift and burn it
Why do we scrape holes in her skin
We grow and expand and grow and expand
Why are we deaf to the symphony
When the beasts leave the land it will be by our hand
When the birds leave the sky it will be by our ambition
When the fish leave the sea it will be by our greed
I have travelled around the globe and have seen so many natural wonders, but no matter how far out I venture, I can still find detritus, trash and litter.
Nick Stiltner Mar 19
Seas of swaying green reduced to gray city skylines (the triumphant results of our modern enlightenment)
Slicked oil waters pulse from the refineries, defeated heads held down against the cold winds walk the streets.
Malaise grips the populace,
our attention at every turn deftly averted to the trivial.
Welcome one, welcome all, to the Anthropocene.

Smoke stacks bellowing, pockets full of printed greenbacks thickening,
the overwhelming scents of greed and gluttony bleed into everything.
Throw your trash to the streets, stomp the last embers and smear ash on the wall,
Look around and you will see humanities closing scenes.
Welcome one, welcome all, to the Anthropocene.

It seems in the end truth has left us,
hope has evacuated,
it’s speakers replaced with puppets
That dance and masquerade on taught strings.
Come in my friends, take your seats in the audience,
The show has already begun!
The lights are dimming and the pieces well set,
Welcome one, welcoming all, to the Anthropocene.

Continents ablaze, reduced to decayed black.
The streets of your home flooded,
Mother Nature holding on by a trembling thread,
And in all of our brightest intellect,
We do not reknit the thread.
Instead of reversing our own mistakes, instead of adjusting our sails to the changing winds,
we hold the scissors to that trembling string and begin to cut with a smile.
Manicured life,
Monocultured lawns perfectly maintained through the drought, appearances kept up through the drowning monsoon winds.

Welcome, my dearest friends, to the end of our days, whether you agree to them or not,
Welcome to the first conscious mass extinction, brought to you by the height of human innovation
Welcome, my brothers and sisters, to the Anthropocene.
Native American Prayer
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Help us learn the lessons you have left us
in every leaf and rock.

Originally published by The HyperTexts
Native American Travelers' Blessing
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Let us walk together here
with earth's creatures great and small,
remembering, our footsteps light,
that one wise God created all.

Originally published by The HyperTexts
If I pause for too long,
surveying this plot
the perfection is overwhelming
one could become lost
in this sea, of who I always longed to be.

The beauty of this realm is exquisite,
and steals my breath.
There is no one beneath my feet,
for they do not belong.

To no longer feel the need
to feed
on hearts that don't belong to me..
this is true peace.
A parasitic life
of craving, and of strife
is not becoming of a queen.

The epitome of irony
lies in the way
conscious beings always ask
what does it mean to live?

Perhaps if you spared more souls
and did not consume the flesh
you could remember what it's like..
and even recover your own power
to directly compose pure energy.
We were all born as beacons; this is not limited to human existence.
Adrian Feb 13
A house is a home,
But only if one makes it so.
In a home,
You can drip emotion,
Free of care or conservation.
In a house
There’s no lack of protection,
But the loneliness becomes an infection.

I have a house,
But I want to make it home.
Mystic Ink Plus Dec 2019
Today
If you
Sleep on time

There
You will
Shine brighter
Than the sun
For some

For some
Yes, you will
Genre: inspirational
Theme: Save Time || Save your soul
Hlengiwe Dec 2019
In the body of this feminine Earth
Am I the antibody or the cancer that keeps on multiplying killing it slowly?
Am I her knight and shining armour or an unwanted version of ******?
Am I the reason behind her smile
Or am I a dead cell which will be washed away by her ocean tears?
Am I the fire that burns all her beauty or am I the sun that gives her warmth and joy?
In her life what purpose do I uphold?
In her eyes who am I?
Conserve Earth...
Next page