1,000 years the olive tree stood.
And would still be standing, if only  it could.
Some “settlers” uprooted the ancient tree,
whose beauty and majesty they could not see.
The “desert,” for millennia,  bloomed with life,
long before “Israel” was founded with strife.
Brooklynites now pave hills and build pools,
sucking up water—those fanatics and fools.
For thousands of years people lived on this land,
and life ebbed and flowed, at nature’s command.
Settlers claim “God” told them to supplant
the Arabs,  the animals and native plants.
What type of god would give such commands?
To sow hatred and strife, and deplete God’s own lands?

"Settlers" illegally displace Palestinians, with the help of the Israeli army. There are limited water resources and the building of suburban-like communities destroys trees as well as people's lives.

There is ice benumbing my sinking heart and a chain link binding around my spine.  
it twists,    
it spires,  
it twines    
and it spirals.    
It slithers and snakes its way up coiling around my neck.  
I can't run.    
I can't scream.  
I'll just wither and wait.  
It shackles me in places and lulls the darkness in to surround me.    
The shadows dance and my demons laugh.    
This is my decease, demise, departure,dissolution. This is my destruction.

Everything she touches simply burns,
and everything is left in ruins.
She just simply wants to see on the outside
what she feels on the inside.
Then, perhaps she won't feel so alone.
And if she destroys herself,
she won't have to face the terror around her.

originally written 2/5/17

If the Devil dwells
Deep in the Bowels of the Earth,
I think that it would be wiser for Humanity
To Worship the Devil
Than God.
After all,
If God is way up in the Stratospheric Heavens,
He's probably given up on Us on by now,
"Those people screwed up"
"That  beautiful Planet Earth that I give them."
"They need to stop beseeching me for Assistance"
"And straighten out their own Mess."

Conservatism was replaced
By White Supremacy.
The need for fiscal responsibility
Was superseded
By the Need to Kill.

We're gonna' burn this Planet down, Jewboy!
We don't give a damn what you think!
There's still oodles of money in  Black Gold.
No need to worry that we're ain't  gonna' destroy your houseplants.
Ain't no profit in ruining anyone's  hobby.

Cam Apr 17

The slipping plates of the planet
Grind ceaselessly against each other
In terse and violent tension.  
Neighbour against neighbour,
Conflicting caress of rock against rock
Until one gives.  

                            The tension explodes.
Little Boy ten thousand fold
Wrecks vast destruction across
Land, sea, village and city
With indifference
For whoever

What feeling, what emotion,
Crashes through the landscape,
Dashing communities, families,
Mother and child, father and friends,
School children, colleagues,
Shopkeepers and trades?
Picked up and tossed over and under
By wave after wave, dragging crushing debris.
A black lascivious tongue
Unfurling its fury, lashing
The skin of humanity
From the face of the Earth.

(And what do I care of the destruction?
Of all the pain it leaves behind?
Of the ever-rising body count
Upon a never-ceasing tide.

I am on my way, surfing
The fury, feeling all powerful
And magnificent, but all the time
Controlled and ruined).

Michelle Apr 16

You can't trust no man but your father.
But I can't be mad, you played the game.
This is why they give storms names.
We are the only natural disaster.

Annie Apr 15

Mother, you ask me to cut the cake
But mother, oh my sweet mother,
I'm merely holding a knife here

Mother you think it's my birthday and I should be happy,
But little do you know,
Mother, my incognisant mother

You see, this here in my soft, tender hands
It's more tempting than the candles you brought,
More intimidating than you sitting in front,
It brings the flashbacks more than a picture does

To you, it's something as superficial as love
But to me, my mother
To me, it's a reminder of all the things I could never be,
That I belong to no one,
And mother, that none belongs to me

Iremsu Apr 12

My insides do not keep any order.
Nor do I keep that as my passion.
Distracted ruins of my simultaneousness...
Then give up on the road.
Shiver all you want,
In a mind you are there and warm.

Next page