#flooding
Nobody’s right, if everybody is wrong,
As people get warm under the collar,
Singing the continuous global warming song.
Planet Earth, hot lava inside, which builds,
Up steam over time, which needs to escape,
Every day, more asphalt, concrete, buildings,
Covering vents on the surface, creating internal binds.
More world - wide population, each person close to 100 degrees,
Then the sun, that burning out star in the sky,
the orange ball we see, as we circle it 24 hours a day,
These reasons, are never mentioned, in any way.
Rivers, waterways, rising, from melting ice burgs, far away,
Our planet, many voids, from coal mines, pumping of oil,
Sand, rock… always something being removed, some way,
Direct that rising water, into those empty spaces,
Which would help, cool off that inner fire, during our stay.
Fires in California, A flood on the East cost build a maze of,
PVC pipe, every time a utility, installed in ground, put pipe,
Along the side, eventually connecting, open valve in flooded areas,
Free water moved to the fire, connect to fire hydrants, farms for spraying,
Places we do not need to pay to treat water, to use
Saving money for towns, we need to take advantage, of situations,
Stop blaming the people giving them the run around.
The Original: Tom Maxwell© 3/13/2022 AD
Mar 14, 2022
Mar 14, 2022 at 4:13 AM UTC
Dear politician,
Thanks for stopping by
And for all the cameras
You brought along
This is where my house once stood
Before it was put afloat
And washed away
By what was once a mere creek
I see you came prepared!
An umbrella, a rain jacket
And some rubber boots as well!
Your whole attire
Truly you’re one of us!
So come on board!
We’ll ship down the main road
Look at the destruction together
While you make an earnest face
So everyone will see
How truly devastated you are
You assure immediate help
Promise to tackle climate change too!
Action is what is required?
We’ve stood still for too long?
It must be...
A sudden change of mind I see!
After all your warnings:
Avoid rash decisions!
Remember there is no need to panic!
What do you mean?
Let’s change the subject?
Oh my!
What lovely rain boots you have!
I hope you did not forget
To bring a change of clothes
There is not much time. You’ll be late!
Be on your way!
To the fossil fuel committee meeting
You see,
Your lobbyist is already waiting
Jul 19, 2021
Jul 19, 2021 at 12:56 PM UTC
Depression
My old friend
Oh my, oh my
Where have you been
You creep back into me
Ever so sneakily.
How i wish, we can make amends
After all this time spent
My old friend,
You cut me open
Then stitch me closed.
My tears flow and flow
Scars open
Bleeding out into the unknown.
Then,
Just like that
You shut me off.
Disassociated,
Now I am numb
To the bone.
My old friend,
It is either all or nothing with you.
Well I am sick
Of having to come up with reasons
Of why I am not feeling well.
I’m through with you.
Out, Out,
Gone be.
You are not me.
I will not be defined by the lies you shout and whisper to me.
My old friend, you will not take me with you
I have worked too hard,
Towards light,
To stay on my own path.
My mind has blossomed and my heart has been watered
You will not **** me dry.
Leave me, Leave me
Let me be.
-k.c
Apr 2, 2021
Apr 2, 2021 at 1:14 PM UTC
There’s an ocean, collected on the other side of the world.
Away from those that taught her destruction.
Learning from the land what it feels like to sink.
What else can she do but weep?
and slowly flood as we sleep...
Sep 14, 2019
Sep 14, 2019 at 6:49 AM UTC
you forgot to take it
to the curb
you forgot to empty it
your mind had been full
overflowing with the memories of us
it sat there for awhile
you wanted to keep them but
they began to
decompose
perish
rot to their cores
and the smell lingered
you started to bag it all up
one by one you put pieces of us
in a jet black
plastic bag
with a twist tie
and walked us to the curb
Mar 19, 2019
Mar 19, 2019 at 1:38 AM UTC
It starts small.
A thought.
Then it grows.
It turns into actions.
Malice.
Not to others but to yourself.
The lines start small,
Almost to faint to notice.
Then , they grow.
They begin to deepen,
In hopes of drowning out the pain.
The pain of everyday life.
They hurt,
But not as much as your heart does.
It starts small,
As a thought.
But as it grows,
As it struggles to keep up with your flooding emotions.
It begins to strangle you.
The thoughts begin to hurt.
They scream;
Hear us
Hear us
, but what if We don’t want to hear them.
The thoughts that start those lines.
The thoughts that starve us.
The thoughts that deprive us of living a fufilled life.
Hear us.
See us.
They scream.
Jan 22, 2019
Jan 22, 2019 at 1:36 AM UTC
In my estranged daze,
I now fall from the floor,
The utter sadness flows in like a summer's rain.
It is okay, poor one,
My child, it will soon be over.
And soon you will grow.
So be kind,
You cannot drown in tears of joy.
~Robert van Lingen
Dec 24, 2018
Dec 24, 2018 at 11:13 AM UTC
Our house is flooded
stop crying, its not helping
only adding more
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 9:09 AM UTC
we sink half an inch every year
"soon, we'll be up to our ears
in water"
not a creature of fury, just of habit
the moon pulls her to churning, to crashing.
hotter water temper tantrums
rush the brine into our basements
soaking scrapbooks in salt
until it crystallizes faces
and yet i cannot blame the marsh
for reclaiming what was never ours
and taking even what was as penance.
but i refuse to condemn us
for shaping shorelines into lives
because things are so much clearer
when they turn with the tides.
we’ll grow gills in time,
we have to.
the ones who stay on land
could never handle shifting sands
don’t know we cling onto the inlet
with white-knuckled hands.
they never grew from buried roots,
seeds are just flotsam in the sea
so they’ll call Frank O’Toole crazy
when he can’t bring himself to leave.
Mar 25, 2018
Mar 25, 2018 at 10:11 PM UTC
It's just a house
on four posts
that managed to encase
my heart in it
and lock it up
with the key.
It's just a house
that got swallowed
and my heart went with it.
Locked up and lost
into the sea.
Mar 6, 2018
Mar 6, 2018 at 2:01 PM UTC
*Where does the desire come from?
To send someone words on a paper screen?
Where does the inkwell saturate, and settle deep?*
Mixing until you’re your dammed up thoughts
Break loose and spill out onto the ground
Flooding the valley at hand below
For when you spill yourself onto a page
You need to be comfortable with the mess you’ll create
It’s inevitable
But why should you worry about that anyway?
I mean it, I say this with a laugh but…
*Does any of this matter anyway?
Why should you withhold and hold back?*
The rushing words
The kind which actually meant to be swept away
Jun 30, 2017
Jun 30, 2017 at 10:51 AM UTC
A week of unremitting rain
suddenly forgiven
in morning sunshine
Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 9:45 PM UTC
The relentless rain brings
Flooding to my basement
Floating is a box filled
With ghosts breathing
Through their gills.
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 6:37 PM UTC