“By the sweat of your brow
you will eat your food
until you return to the ground,
since from it you were taken;
for dust you are
and to dust you will return.” -Genesis 3:19

They felled the last tree yesterday.
I felt her heave a great sigh
As they lowered her down to her grave.
Terminal she lay. Deathly still.
Black trucks crept from where she once stood.

They felled the last tree yesterday.
I felt the ring of the axe,
The devilish war-cry of the saw,
Biting, biting away beneath a spiteful sun of a mad crimzon.

Stumps. A testament to man
Entrenched in the barren soil.
Who was there to pray for them?
Only the quiet dayglow, resting upon the subtle fragments,
Of what might have been.

One must wonder:
“How many must it take for us to learn?”
If only we could learn.

So don't tell me that they have no use
For we are of them, and they are of us
All made from the same soft stardust.
From earth to earth.
Ashes to ashes.
Dust to dust!

Hades 3d

Mirror Mirror on the wall
Who's the fairest of them all?
A lady wearing white and she's quite tall
Running, slipping into the waterfalls
Liquid pierce her skin, she heard the killercall
"Lady, lady where did you fall?"
Tears mixing with water, she never felt so small
In the forest where she's the prey, predators are all
She swam to the ends and at the end the lady crawl
Her appearance was terrifying but once considered a doll
The anger filled the man who got drench with ethanol
Fire and greed should have perished the fairest of them all
But how fortunate she is, God's with her all along.

Alec Jul 15

The only thing they're good at
Is running away.
Twisting and turning on a narrow, dirt path.
Weaving past the pale barren trees.
Breathing heavily turns to panting like a dog.
The frigid air suffocating their lungs
Squeezing them like a python
But they cannot stop.
Further and further from warmth
The snow gets deeper, sinking like quick sand.
Their legs are numb and they can't feel their face.
But they're not with you.
They stumble, their legs stuck, and hear a snap.
The sound cuts through the cold, thick silence
Their eyes seem to water, but they can't be sure.
If so then they've frozen, unable to form any tears.
They trudge forward, crawling, their head barely reaching the top of the snow.
Their eyes shut tight, iced over like a rink
They want to call out but their Voice will not let them.
Subconscious too stubborn to let others know.
Reaching forward grasping at empty air,
Their lungs nearing empty,
Tilt their head to the sky.
A word escapes their lips through a puff of white air.
Small, weak, and frail
Sounding like broken glass.
An utterance of help,
Could it be their last?


sometimes I just want to view the world living
stroll with the wolves
and sing a mellow song

Naomi Hurley Jul 10

She is right to fear me
Though I would never dream
Of laying a finger
Or inflicting even a fragment of pain
Upon her beautiful countenance

(Intentionally, that is)

I have never seen
Such a darling woman
Her dark, round eyes
Leave me frozen in place
Her narrow, sculpted face
Captures me
She need not utter a sound
To beguile me speechless

There are many like her
But none ARE her
As I have studied from afar
Watched her
Worshiped her
I wish she didn't come around
So often
For it is daunting to think
Of what I may do

She has become close to me
Letting me into her space
Am I imagining trust?
I wish she would run from me
And find someone else to
Spend time with
Someone more like her

Her long, powerful legs
Are captivating
The way she carries herself
As graceful as a dancer--
Maybe even more so

I see her almost every day now
She still looks healthy
I hope one day she won't
Be alone

Maybe that's why she looks to me
Her silent, careful observer
Maybe she knows I mean no harm
But I can't promise that
For my species is one that marries
One that may have torn down
Her old home
Poisoned her water source
Killed her companions
Caused her to know an unnatural fear

I sit in my car
On my driveway
And watch her from only
A few feet away
She looks back at me
With those full eyes
And we sit like this for a while

I wonder if she understands
My apology
My forlorn gaze as I ponder
How long she will survive out there
I thank whoever is listening
That she'll never know about
Her son's head being mounted
On a wall
Or maybe her father's...
Whichever looks more appealing to us

Finally I free myself from
This trance and
Honk my horn
I watch her glide through the woods
Away from me

I want her to be afraid.

Because I am afraid
For her.

An open letter to the doe that's been hanging around my house.
Naomi Hurley Jul 9

Fresh blades of grass brush
Along my bare feet as I
Glide through the front yard.

A cute haiku from me to you.

pulse racing,
heart pounding,
keep footstep steady and true;
shadows flit from bog to briar
you mingle with the dew.

'hush, hush' sigh...
societies of wood
reach down with gentle, cold hands
caressing sodden brook-side,
embracing new-born land.

misty moor,
heart-break creek,
whisper words with heart-felt throbs,
denied come the morning,
fill your depths with sobs.

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