I like when the waves start rumbling And the city lights turn on I like the beautiful sights Of the twilight sky And the mountains all dressed in black
I like when it's hidden away
When everything the daylight shows Disappears All the beauty that's destroyed All that's been taken away is concealed
Because when I look on and on When my eyes gaze upon... The darkness
I don't see all the disaster
The city lights, the waves and the sky Draped in violets and pinks As the airplanes fly
And I think, what a beauty! What a city of dreams When the visible is made to be unseen Unseen...
I see the cars passing With their beaming lights But they all seem somehow much sweeter And closer to starlight
I see the palm trees standing proud In a place where they do belong But there's so few around
And even the people seem much brighter When the nights come to hide the effects of human disaster
A comfort blanket
Listen to the waves
And forget the sounds of the traffic That I can't stand anymore
Found my comfort in the night Found my solace at this time Found the beauty of life In the city At night
This is another poem that I have written while staying in Las Palmas de Gran Canaria las summer. After 2 months, I couldn't take all the business of the city anymore. I became too overwhelmed during the daylight hours and found peace in the nights. ✨
Millions of years before you and I and us and all of this…noise Smog-laden cities and Urgency spoken between mothers and daughters And lovers in candlelit cafes on the backstreets of New York and the arrondissements of Paris.
Long before entangled masses of roads and seaways and Boundaries imagined in the sky Birthed kingdoms and countries and fidelities, People kneeling under colored flags lifted high and prominent Above a world created only by the insatiable torrent of the human Mind.
Long before us.
Before any man Measured time.
In the quiet
Moons before a single footstep of monster or man trod In the primeval night, Deep in the silence of fire and ice, Of primordial tundra frozen and burned.
They emerged, Languid and light in the depths of the sea. Tentacles twisting Through the untainted currents of endless and pristine Precambrian oceans.
And there they pushed through the waters of time And waited.
And there they were satiated on the ebb and flow of the tides And the cries of ancient sea birds across The open waves.
Long the earth’s first and peaceful creations Abided down below.
But we have fed them our venom Born of angst and rage Leached from our endless need for control of all things And they have grown fat on the chemicals spawned From our own greed Trash thrown across the meadows of the deep.
And they feasted on our poison and grew mammoth and strong And one bright day broke high above the surface of the waters And reached down with tentacles bright as the sun’s rays To illuminate all that we had done And left us strewn across the land
The start of a collaborative art project with my other half, inspired by humanity's destructive nature and a War of the Worlds aesthetic.
And she sat with knees clutched tight to her chest on what was once their couch, looking at what once was their home, what once was their lives, and felt her body begin to shake. Felt the tears well up behind painted pretty eyes, and a scream bubble up behind painted pretty lips. She watched as she set fire to memories in her minds eye, destroying a future now gone.
There is a plot of land near my home which once housed an abundance of flora and fauna.
Turtles, birds, rabbits, snakes, wild dogfennel, pines, periwinkles, alamandas and southern river sage thrived in this space which now boasts only an open plot of beige mounds, cement cylinders, and monstrous machines.
I grimace at its "progress" daily.
Across the street, a large patch of wildflowers sit up and gaze upon this scene.
Day after day, Erupting from the blue-eyed grass, A family of spanish needle and Mexican petunias turn their blooms toward the beeping and the clunking of machines.
White peacock butterflies and red-tipped dragonflies dance around the feeding bees. I'd like to be like the flowers. To bloom rebelliously in the face of greed and destruction. Even though soon, they will be gone too.
The object of an eye is dire to entrap my love towards, An orb filled with desire, but as the life too— of those suffering, and desiring to die. The figure with his long dark coat, keeps the world in a right pocket. His eyes red as the blood they curl. The sky is black wherever he walks. His breath is heavy, and a black cloud of smoke. One word swallows all, and as so—he destroyed the world.