Oceans, forests, nature, & mountains are all gifts Mother Earth gave us to share freely.
She provided us with clean air, nourishing food, & a lovely, welcoming home.
However, humanity screams "that's not enough."

Our mouths water with greedy lust.  
Our eyes gleam when we see an opportunity to get ahead.
Mankind often forgets that prosperity does not need to come at the expense of our planet.
Selfishness overtakes our souls as we plot the death of Mother Earth.

they say men are from Mars
and women are from Venus
but i wonder what takes so long
for us to cross paths
perhaps
it's what the astronomers tried to declare
that Mars and Venus never does
and will never intersect orbits
with millions of miles in between them
or what the astrologers tried to foretell
that a love unknown as a nameless star
can never really shine in the first place
because of the thousands of miles between us
but even if it takes an infinity of time or space
for us to reach one another
i would still stay and wait
by your side, i will hover
what matters for now is
i found you
amidst many others
i saw you
even in the dark
and i love you so

We knew
many years
planet dying.

We built
concrete orbs
hollowed-out;
had DNA
filled inside.

Simple corals
over time
ate them
brought back;
ocean life.

Some make plans to escape
Some just watch it burn

clouds of linen stretch her skies,
changing depths of blue,
lovely is this -
her Earthrise,
she's something,
from my view,

I look at her
my lovely Earth,
and I,
her soulmate - Moon,
if she shall perish,
so will I,
I hope tho not too soon,

I wonder what inhabits her,
of what's alive out there,
I wonder what she thinks of them,
or if no time to care,

she was designed just perfectly,
a gift in her to give,
sadly took for granted she,
in ignorance can't live,

I wonder if her people know,
the sacred of her planet,
or if destruction comes in flames,
to fight it or to fan it,

they must know
somewhere within,
she's beautiful but dying,
I hope this not the last Earthrise
I hear her gently sighing,
then a thunder roars within,
on knees -
alone,
she's crying,

Hear my voice my sacred people
I'm wounded, I cannot fight
will you hear my final call
before the last goodnight ?

Ma Cherie © 2017

A fragile little thing. Xylophone ribs that heaved as coral reefs beneath a hurricane, and a prominent spine, a mountain range down a plain of pale white. Mountain range cutting against a pale plain in sharp and jagged ridges, a volatile and fearful structure, shifting with the quakes that came from the planet's heart, a flighty beat. Gashes in the land, deep fissures in his earth from tremors of stress in his core, bringing more fractures and gashes in the delicate white frame.  Two brown moons, always wide and full. He was a dying planet, orbitting a dying star that pounded within, a ticking bomb awaiting a cataclysm; and such a force came to the withered shell of a planet. A supernova burst forth, and the fragile planet crumbled into nothing, thin fragile bones blowing away as dust among the stars, along with his brown moons and plains of sickly white. This was a death, and a beginning, too.

From the dust of his bones he reformed, the gashes of his tremors and quakes becoming hills and gentle ridges upon the healthy soil of his new skin. His spine no longer an unforgiving range of sharp bones and discomfort, now settled comfortably beneath his earth. A true structure to be relied upon, one that will not bend beneath force. His brown moons are warm and quiet, calming the tidal waves and vicious tremors that once stormed in his core and tore fissures upon his coasts. A living planet, one that could give hospitality and withstand forces unknown. It took a supernova, a death so loud all the solar system tembled in its wake; but from that, he was reborn. Greater than the sickly planet and fragile core, he became a system of stars and comets, constellations in beauty marks upon a thriving expanse of healed skin, a new being, strong and resilient.

Do not be afraid of the end, because more often than we may realize, it is a beginning; the one we have always needed.

By Arcassin Burnham

When It rains and it pours , is it God crying?
Or does he make mistakes too by dropping
Glasses of water on some parts of the planet,
sometimes i cant stand it,
Its too hard to manage
With all the decorative seasons and foreign
Ghettos,
Following their footsteps and letting all of their
Friends go,
I wish everything was in slow motion so I could
Move through this crowd of ******* and jerks,
Its more than I deserve,
And when the wind blows I'll be sitting in the
Rose garden full of sin while thick and bold and
Replace the new past with the old,
I think I struck a nerve,
The Power was within is all along,
are you man? or do you claim your strong?
If you pick confrontations left and right then
something will go wrong.

When
you say
with gentle ask
"i'm yet to be discovered,
I may let you name me""
I cope with overwhelm well
and think
there
is nothing better
than you.