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Sydney V Jan 2020
Mom.  
            Mom,  

My skin,  
is alight.  
My fur, singed
like the surrounding brush
of my home
and your home (and their home)
alike.  
Each breath
and step  
that I take  
secures a winded grip  
from within my chest
as the crackled
orange embers, spread  
their scorching grasp
across the rest,  
of my feeble body.  
–For a moment–  
I, am picked up
in a heated embrace,  
then dropped
like a child  
gets disinterested  
with one toy
before pillaging
to the next.  

Mom.  
            Mom?

This isn’t a warm hug-   

We’re burning.
Their climate crisis, is our climate crisis too.
Brandon Amberger Dec 2019
Fires on the field.
The dead and wounded around.
A fraction of war.
Asonna Dec 2019
I love a sunburnt country,
but now the land's ablaze.
the oxygen we breathe has turned to dust
yet our request for help is denied.
I love a sunburnt country,
but there's not much left to last.

Firefighters aren't getting paid,
Neither are their bills.
yet our leader claims we're all fine
but he can afford to jet away.

The wildlife is damaged.
Koalas are losing homes.
much like the population
as the fires rip through their walls.

I love my sunburnt country,
but this has gone on too long.
while it's nice you're in hawaii Mr. Morrison,
everyone else is left to stand alone..
Nat Lipstadt Nov 2019
~for betterdays, and all Aussies~


the fires massifs all around, the smokes surrounds,
the house invaded with closed-out-of-college students,
mother and father who are similarly workless, a fire bounty,
all this a treat to an nine year old (no school) boy and his dog

newly self-appointed ringleader, the little boy,
in his fire heaven, with a gang to command, to entertain,
some adults, silly college students, who don’t know “no,”
when he says this is the game we are playing next

this vignette, is not a Manhattan variety^
but an insight story heard, unwitnessed, but of
those who tell the tale, unwittingly, of finding small joys
amidst sky-full clouds, all grayed bunting of burning stink

few wiser than my old, tired and smokey clouded eyes,
though, one yet detects those who are truly not lost,
those who are found, and those who will find them all,
and lead them to the safest places inside themselves

and my heart and brain, at last in unison,
forgives the restless adults who with grownup worries,
yet can! just barely detect those mini joy-rivulets among the whiffs
of destruction and bravery, losses and new hands extended

So I ask, Mum, what game shall we play next?

Perhaps, Noah’s Ark?
https://www.washingtonpost.com/weather/2019/11/21/massive-bush-fires-horrendous-heat-worsening-drought-plague-australia-summer-nears/

^ search Manhattan Vignettes in the HP Search Box
Strung Aug 2019
Fire sparks along the walls of my gut.
Smoke pours from mouth—the cries I tried to release, gone.
Lies lies lies lies and excuses,
there’s a burning in my stomach.
I feel words wither on my tongue
As yours overpower and overwhelm.
Questions asked
About every word.
I’ll set it on fire
I’ll set it all on fire.
Coals to your wisdom,
Embers to your truth.
I’ll set it on fire.
Stop asking me
And doubting me
And lying.
I’ll set it all on fire.
Starry Aug 2019
As the fire burns mercilessly
I am saddend that
My favorite forest is dying
Along with
The tarantulas
I can hear the screaming for help
This reminds me of a day I lost another beloved
Forest behind my house.
San-Pei Lee Jul 2019
a raging hollow in the chest
breathing air
still no combustion
darling just a spark
then perhaps
the heart's embers
crackle and burn
into fires in the sky
wishes in the night
Tess May 2019
Mankind think of themselves like deity,
Yet they are unable to touch the stars;
They foul the world, searching for aureity
And when earth dies they search for life on Mars

We ignore the collateral damage;
We ignore the all-consuming wildfires
That burn the world, leaving it in famine;
Man acts high and mighty on their pyres

We train our children to stand in straight rows,
Murdering all their creativity;
We tell them life’s purpose is buying clothes
Cynically we prompt naivety

Here, above, with no more conspiracies,
These are the faults of the perfect species.
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