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Verlecia F Nov 16
trickle, trickle, little dew drops
your divine tap
has, all but dry up

so with no drizzle
insight
to bring thee rain

our tongues
will all
share the same
dried up fate

so with a bending
feeble knee
i do beg thee
let go
of your purse
and sinful coin
we have no need
to eat the fruit of oil

and with shallow hollow breath
i do downwardly cry
for who will survive?

and a little voice
will say
surely not i
or the rich
or the poor


and in the coming of the
dawn
the heat or the cold
will only bring
bones and tears drops
of lost loves

for paradise was
green and the oceans where (were)
like of the new
but we soiled her

and cover her
in black goo
The ultimate blackface by crude oil!  4/19/2022 Tuesday -
by: verlecia
Saved right now  134 words
-----------------------------------    -----------------------------------    --------Write a poem for contest Prompt: short story, global warming. - Liz G Lucas
Hi, friends,

A little different contest this time. I'm asking for a  short story, no more than 1,500 words. On your opinion of global warming. What you would do about it, if you could. Judging by the weather in Spain so far this year I'd say there was another ice age coming. I have upped the points for this one. Please don't deviate from the subject. Please put words in AN, along with Global Warming. Also please spell check before entering
Khoisan Oct 30
Meteoric rise
Catastrophic crash
Let Me Out!
The Spanish were upset
An oil tanker sank a mile offshore
The water was a mile deep
Yet the tide would carry the oil
Ashore so it would ruin the beaches
**** the fish eradicate the birds
Blacken swimmers poison the sea
Turn the sand to asphalt
Do a hundred other evil things
Blame the typhoon blame the captain
Blame all things but it’s clear
The ship is no longer afloat
It’s at the bottom of the sea
All that juicy engine oil waiting
To escape to poison all things
Let me out let me out let me out!
Isaace Jun 2023
In each vault: a fifty pound note—
How fragile our consciousness must be!
From each well: an overflow of oil,
Gently trickling into the village's stream.
For all their wealth, no sons to be seen;
No daughters frolicking across the effervescent green.
Only weapons adorn their mantlepiece.
No pictures of family. No memories amassed.
No records for spiritual esteem.
Jaderbug dreams Mar 2023
You were constantly telling me I was sunshine and roses when I am obviously orchids and moonlight.
The way you held me, caressed my body, said my name…
They were pleasant enough but never filled the void in my soul.
You spoon fed me lies and wrapped me in a warm blanket enveloped with deception.
You cared for me up to your standards but never asked me mine.
Your words enraptured my thoughts and buried doubt into my brain.
You said you couldn’t live without me .
You told me you loved me.
That I was perfect for you.
We moved boxes and made a home.
Our possessions and limbs intertwined like lovers in the night.
We were blended.
But like water and oil we drifted, we separated.
You wanted me to change…
Not something as simple as to stop smacking my lips as I ate or to watch my intake of wine.
You wanted me to change core beliefs.
Wanted me to believe in a man in the sky who lets children starve, women get abused, and men to die.
Meanwhile my taro cards and crystals are charging in the moonlight as star dust dances upon my skin.
You were constantly telling me I was sunshine and roses when I am orchids and moonlight.
I am the universe wrapped into a humans body.
I am love.
I am acceptance.
I am all encompassing kindness.
You took it for granted and want it back.
I know who I am while you are searching for yourself.
You are wanting others to change to better your life.
When you should be accepting people you turn them away.
You took a piece of my heart… for it was yours.
But you just took a portion. Not the whole.
Isaace Jan 2023
From within The Spy's enfolding spire,
There emits a glint of fragile light,
Revealing an unreachable, mist-fading city—
The vivid incantation of unutterable occult rites.

Before the riptide of the shore,
Illumed by the light of his distant flame,
The Spy collapses into his spire,
Only to emerge once again:

Now past the water's glistening edge,
Having scaled the city's sky-flung walls.
Now moving between ancient shadows,
Following the light of his vermilion flame.
Now seeking catacomb chambers
Where, among dismantled skeleton bones,
The Master Of The Slumbering Dead resides.
AE Jun 2022
I massage the black seed oil into my hair
love the way it reminds me of my mother's fragrant laugh
And the way her soft hands stretch the dough
And she sprinkles kalonji onto it where the melting butter
welcomes the seeds with open arms

I braid this ocean breeze into my itching scalp
Thinking of how she would sit me down
And run her fingers through my knotted hair
After I played outside without a care
And I would shriek in pain with every pull,
desperate to leave her grasp
But she would pour the mustard seed oil onto her palms
And I would be transported into her tough love

Now I think about those moments,
And the pain feels like distant menthol induced haziness
Instead, all I feel is my back against her warmth

—————————————————————
Kalonji - Black Seed/Onion Seed
GaryFairy Mar 2022
Remember, it takes a hell of a lot of coal, trees, and gasoline to produce and move electricity. It also takes a hell of a lot of electricity, trees, and coal to produce gasoline. Same can be said about coal. It takes a lot of trees, electricity and gasoline to produce coal. Hello? Knock knock. Anyone home? Add in helium and other gases too.
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