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#gaia
Imagine if you will, the earth, our earth As a gigantic Savings and Loan With vaults to be filled, loans to float And debts to be paid - or else! All we require to breathe or feed Is stored within its spherical shell. Like it or not, we stash all our accounts At the solitary bank of all that is And queue before the window daily To withdraw our daily sustenance. But the drawers are not as full as before - Less water, less oil, less breathable air; How we will keep our bros (or ourselves) When the shelves have little to offer? Hurricanes howl and wildfires crackle Just outside our windows. Do we flee, must we fight, Do we lose all, or perish? What will we do if the Bank of Gaia Closes its doors forever?
0
Sep 23, 2025
Sep 23, 2025 at 10:15 AM UTC
THE BANK OF GAIA
Our mother, Gaia, shall never die Though for us I cannot speak When Terra does turn her back to our kind Our might shall seem so meek Roaring flames do lick her skin While Chaos’ storms do rage But Mother Earth will retreat within And turn to a blank new page. Zeus will fall when the skies go black His wife, Hera, to follow when families dissolve Once the gods fall there’ll be no way back And hubris will be our final resolve. Chronus may falter when there’s nobody alive To observe the passage of hours When the clocks have all stopped, Gears unturning under toppled clock towers No grandfathers left to chime. But Gaia will live on in sleep so bereft Long after we’re lost to time. With no men to wage wars, Ares will fade Athena too as innovation runs dry Aphrodite may weep when there’s no love to be made Hermes, when there’s nowhere to fly And though our sun will live past our end, There’ll be no chariot of gold No homes, no hearths for Hestia to tend And no music for Apollo to behold We have long lost one of the faces Of Artemis, the huntress under moonlight’s reign And civilization (so-called) now erases Pan, the wild god, and his sacred domain What next, I now ask, shall we bid our farewell? What aspect of humanity lost? As we stumble along nearer to Hell Whom shall be the next forgot? But fear thee not, for life’s most precious gift is the transience, the temporal nature of Earth All will change, all will shift and perhaps a different Cosmos may birth. Once the stardust settles, a new something to arrive And we shall perhaps there meet once again Tied by fresh cords of fate to share new lives. And all the while, she’s waited for us Watching and loving those souls immortal Taking new forms now from different dust She’ll rejoice and rebirth the primordial They will rise and then fall and eventually make way For the pantheon of a new universe to arise Perhaps not all will look the same-- But close enough for essence to find.
0
Sep 5, 2023
Sep 5, 2023 at 3:54 PM UTC
The Earth Shall Not Die
Our mother, Gaia, shall never die Though for us I cannot speak When Terra does turn her back to our kind Our might shall seem so meek Roaring flames do lick her skin While Chaos’ storms do rage But Mother Earth will retreat within And turn to a blank new page. Zeus will fall when the skies go black His wife, Hera, to follow when families dissolve Once the gods fall there’ll be no way back And hubris will be our final resolve. Chronus may falter when there’s nobody alive To observe the passage of hours When the clocks have all stopped, Gears unturning under toppled clock towers No grandfathers left to chime. But Gaia will live on in sleep so bereft Long after we’re lost to time. With no men to wage wars, Ares will fade Athena too as innovation runs dry Aphrodite may weep when there’s no love to be made Hermes, when there’s nowhere to fly And though our sun will live past our end, There’ll be no chariot of gold No homes, no hearths for Hestia to tend And no music for Apollo to behold We have long lost one of the faces Of Artemis, the huntress under moonlight’s reign And civilization (so-called) now erases Pan, the wild god, and his sacred domain What next, I now ask, shall we bid our farewell? What aspect of humanity lost? As we stumble along nearer to Hell Whom shall be the next forgot? But fear thee not, for life’s most precious gift is the transience, the temporal nature of Earth All will change, all will shift and perhaps a different Cosmos may birth. Once the stardust settles, a new something to arrive And we shall perhaps there meet once again Tied by fresh cords of fate to share new lives. And all the while, she’s waited for us Watching and loving those souls immortal Taking new forms now from different dust She’ll rejoice and rebirth the primordial They will rise and then fall and eventually make way For the pantheon of a new universe to arise Perhaps not all will look the same-- But close enough for essence to find.
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50
I send my roots into the earth, accepting the sacred duty. The gentle, yielding, firm, and fertile ground of the mother. I will water her. I will protect her. I accept responsibility for this ground. I yield to this process. Enveloped by life. By time. I yield to the watching. I accept what it brings. I choose to love what comes before me, so that what blooms when I wither away, may always be love.
0
May 15, 2023
May 15, 2023 at 3:05 PM UTC
The Steward
God is spoken From a potent Thing we smoking Trees Gaia birthed the bloom breathed the boom in the canopies, In the wind flew the bees and grew the pleasantries Prana pushing thunder through sQuishing lemon trees   like a hundred new Whisps of mists and heavy deeds Sit with honeydew The gist of this the lemon breeze (We) Going tunnel view Fits and Shakes, seeking remedies digging under you Might be dicking under you Might be Torn asunder true Pirate borne to plunder you.... Sweat means gold, what's been found with lemon -ease? I've been told What in our eyes is what we ever see's 7 seas, more like 7 deeds, filled with deadly feeds Demons like to pleade with ready rease, Virus, the life that spread disease (it alters our sense and what we please) ~Ahem,   ***no te comas la verdad del diablo,***   today to trust Might feel bad, but none brought low There's an easy in WE  Strong Standin', N0ne brought low and now we win amen, a man none start south Its begun... Light as Potent as my prayers **** the make-believe ***I can't wear it, ah Dark is Ever reaching What do you receive? ***What you carrying hah? Balance (Is) an even preaching : What we choose to be ***I can bear it ; hah Come  and help me unweave those who have been so deceived Those stuck in in the mud of ... sputtering " how can it be ?" **** the you or me, mentality When Neurons Fire free and Serotonins drained in me You Might find Saraswati sweetly swathing me In glowing rivers, poured off the moon With Omens looming soon With Omens looming soon I been choking on my doom. Dreaming with Both eyes open and a heart awoken , poorly stoking gloom Too blind to see hope but stoked, still mocking roving Vroom : im off to tokin soon. Sh!t this blunt be totaled soon I Might be total loon an inverted magic man who most often enwomb those caught on the moon Those stuck in the tune For those who hear this earworm, this tea room sloom. This is for Those muted in zoom: I've found traction in heaps Breaking as hard and often As the risen yeast When you pass on the least My Passion is to find the passion of peace its Stuck In the  grasp Fashioned with the sap of my last energies...
0
May 3, 2022
May 3, 2022 at 12:27 AM UTC
They Call him Ah-Wah-Keh
God is spoken From a potent Thing we smoking Trees Gaia birthed the bloom breathed the boom in the canopies, In the wind flew the bees and grew the pleasantries Prana pushing thunder through sQuishing lemon trees   like a hundred new Whisps of mists and heavy deeds Sit with honeydew The gist of this the lemon breeze (We) Going tunnel view Fits and Shakes, seeking remedies digging under you Might be dicking under you Might be Torn asunder true Pirate borne to plunder you.... Sweat means gold, what's been found with lemon -ease? I've been told What in our eyes is what we ever see's 7 seas, more like 7 deeds, filled with deadly feeds Demons like to pleade with ready rease, Virus, the life that spread disease (it alters our sense and what we please) ~Ahem,   ***no te comas la verdad del diablo,***   today to trust Might feel bad, but none brought low There's an easy in WE  Strong Standin', N0ne brought low and now we win amen, a man none start south Its begun... Light as Potent as my prayers **** the make-believe ***I can't wear it, ah Dark is Ever reaching What do you receive? ***What you carrying hah? Balance (Is) an even preaching : What we choose to be ***I can bear it ; hah Come  and help me unweave those who have been so deceived Those stuck in in the mud of ... sputtering " how can it be ?" **** the you or me, mentality When Neurons Fire free and Serotonins drained in me You Might find Saraswati sweetly swathing me In glowing rivers, poured off the moon With Omens looming soon With Omens looming soon I been choking on my doom. Dreaming with Both eyes open and a heart awoken , poorly stoking gloom Too blind to see hope but stoked, still mocking roving Vroom : im off to tokin soon. Sh!t this blunt be totaled soon I Might be total loon an inverted magic man who most often enwomb those caught on the moon Those stuck in the tune For those who hear this earworm, this tea room sloom. This is for Those muted in zoom: I've found traction in heaps Breaking as hard and often As the risen yeast When you pass on the least My Passion is to find the passion of peace its Stuck In the  grasp Fashioned with the sap of my last energies...
Continue reading...
107
In Parsley, a Levantine munificence accreted together in Tabbouleh, herbage that covers fractured bedrock in a poultice of healing. Secreted within, lie igneous outpourings of bloodied tomatoes, those solid affections that had welled through an ocean floor as Neptune quelled Gaia's contractions, her waters seeking to burst beneath the wrinkled surface of a salty sea. She, an underbelly of sky, pregnant in the overwhelm of magma, sweating out her heart in fire, muted like a moon of Neptune, in his retrograde soliloquies, yet mirroring hers in icy resurfacings of skin. The God of the Sea, boils an amnion to hazy mists, how deep will his trident plunge to dislodge those Trojan ships of deceptions ? Yet, Triton blows a conch for Gaia, not for man's duelling and his warring tribes. He soothes her feverish gnashing of thighs labouring continents. Some fires burn in water, like desultory heartbeats moving the pace of rocks through the ocean floor, spiriting away to stranger places still, marking maps of memories in the beauty of a stillborn magma. The limestone they say is no blood relation to such alien fructification, those oceanic intruders, bleeding still, spilling secrets in reds and purples. The acid tears spilled in lemons merely neutralised in syllables, sedimented to a community of limestone, that possess no archaic remnants reminiscing through dead bones, an age of glory. Now beauty lies in herbage over once raucous magma and traces of a salty sea, freshness of life trailing her veins, in fragrance of Parsley
0
Jun 24, 2021
Jun 24, 2021 at 7:15 AM UTC
A levantine Myth
In Parsley, a Levantine munificence accreted together in Tabbouleh, herbage that covers fractured bedrock in a poultice of healing. Secreted within, lie igneous outpourings of bloodied tomatoes, those solid affections that had welled through an ocean floor as Neptune quelled Gaia's contractions, her waters seeking to burst beneath the wrinkled surface of a salty sea. She, an underbelly of sky, pregnant in the overwhelm of magma, sweating out her heart in fire, muted like a moon of Neptune, in his retrograde soliloquies, yet mirroring hers in icy resurfacings of skin. The God of the Sea, boils an amnion to hazy mists, how deep will his trident plunge to dislodge those Trojan ships of deceptions ? Yet, Triton blows a conch for Gaia, not for man's duelling and his warring tribes. He soothes her feverish gnashing of thighs labouring continents. Some fires burn in water, like desultory heartbeats moving the pace of rocks through the ocean floor, spiriting away to stranger places still, marking maps of memories in the beauty of a stillborn magma. The limestone they say is no blood relation to such alien fructification, those oceanic intruders, bleeding still, spilling secrets in reds and purples. The acid tears spilled in lemons merely neutralised in syllables, sedimented to a community of limestone, that possess no archaic remnants reminiscing through dead bones, an age of glory. Now beauty lies in herbage over once raucous magma and traces of a salty sea, freshness of life trailing her veins, in fragrance of Parsley
Continue reading...
23
Your arms reach out for my lost breaths, as you breathe into me the soul of  Gaia, the colossal womb of rebirth. I'm alive again as her soul embraces me, as I convince the lost to grow out again, with the rains from heaven.
0
May 22, 2021
May 22, 2021 at 2:17 AM UTC
The revival of lost breaths
The clouds fell from their lofty perch onto her belly / wrapped in layers of time this Matryoshka/ flouncy in snowflakes / cold startles the birds / the trains are stillborn / marshes float on ice / and nights look like silence // She fashions a snowman / they speak in parables of time / is it shaped like a sisal string or a potter’s wheel / does it appear like a falling star / disappear like a glacier / is it syllabic conversations at dusk / or chimneys brewing clouds into sky / while fires roast limbs of arthritic trees // Her sundial is circular / like the lunacy of seasons / His, fractalizes into uncertain snowflakes / transformed by an arrow flung far to an unknown distance / Gaia awakens in ****** spring / a forced maturity squinting at trains that furrow the land / bleeding in cherry blossoms / wealthy as the emerald leaves she wears to a country gala // The snowman computes time / stray facts the winter wind whispered into his ear / as he melts into January’s cloak / like tears shed for sparkling fractals lost forever / The Earth believes in the manner of faith , he will resurrect on her sundial / as she kisses time into momentary stillness, turns water into ice //
0
Mar 16, 2021
Mar 16, 2021 at 4:24 PM UTC
The Shape of Time
I wear my sensible shoes I wear my sensible shoes Please and thank you's bow all day I press the lift button to level five I brought salad for lunch again today Salad for lunch. I wear nothing but my skin tonight I wear nothing but my skin I let my chest kiss the night air Lyrical, stillness, chaos, staccato My feet and my fingers twist and turn, Twist and turn.
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Jan 16, 2021
Jan 16, 2021 at 7:29 AM UTC
Return to sender
Gaea has possessed my body and claimed my heart her flame flickers on my tongue and winds howl through my soul she sets storms through my mind and tornadoes in my throat i feel the rain in my hands and her waves in my veins but i do not ask her to leave no not when I've just begun to feel
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Jan 10, 2021
Jan 10, 2021 at 11:23 PM UTC
the beginning
it's raining again. It's been raining a lot lately. I rush outside with jars usually, tonight I sit under and I fill myself up. my hair clings to my neck my face my soul. I close my eyes, dipping myself in and out of the sky's tears in hopes that she'll never recognize the difference if I were to be extracting tears of my own. There will soon be no distinction between me and the wet. catching a breath, I peer up I blink so much I'm surprised I can find the clouds They shield Gaia from the cold I count the stars, though I mistake the majority of raindrops for the plasma. So I tilt down, face to Hell my hair curtains around me as if a cat had torn them into nothing but clumpy pieces of string, and recognize the puddle of a person, through blurry sockets, that I can no longer hide from.
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Dec 2, 2020
Dec 2, 2020 at 9:17 PM UTC
Puddle
The tadpole begins to frog She surrenders expanding bones "Am I the water Or is it the other way around?" Suddenly ****** into the one with everything "Am I dead Or is it the other way around?" Try to become itself or allow it to be revealed The trees suddenly make sense to her they've been watching her calling her home she longs to be held by them again If only she could reach Hop Hop above the leaves ahhhh at ease The other side of wave while always in the middle of one And. Then. She’s born again.
0
Dec 2, 2020
Dec 2, 2020 at 6:52 PM UTC
Am I the Water?
Right now it is currently lunch time Though how could it be lunch at 12:20 pm? Well listen here brother There are more than a thousand breakfasts That could be missed But you must never forget The middle Unless it is a brother For Lunch is in between Breakfast and Dinner Proving everyone wrong Is what I would like to say But alas there is a fault in this reasoning For Lunch is only important For the fact that you get to hang out With the B O I S now you must accept this flawless foolish reasoning and turn yourself into foolish wise men since we are but the Gaia's Children
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Nov 5, 2020
Nov 5, 2020 at 1:22 PM UTC
Lunch
There are many things in this life that you may need, want and the synonyms of such But bear mind, That which the Gaia is unfair for us man do not always have a white salted beach, but bear in mind, which is subjective For even if life gives us the orchard the farm the tree that has been passed down as life; we are but just one moment one moment that makes us wonder "why is life such a big bruh moment"
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Oct 29, 2020
Oct 29, 2020 at 1:19 PM UTC
Why is Life Such a Big Bruh Moment?
THESE GADGETS I DESPISE TOLD I NEED THEM TO SURVIVE AS THEY ARE GETTING FLATTER SO IS OUR MOOD WHERE IS THE INSPIRATION NATURE EFFORTLESSLY SHARES YET DEVICES MUST HAVE ONE MILLION FEATURES TO CAPTURE OUR ATTENTION! FOR ONE SECOND A CHARGE OF LIGHTNING WOULD CAUSE ME LESS PAIN YET WHERE IS MY APOLOGY? SORE FROM THIS TECHNOLOGY IN AWE OF THIS ENVIRONMENT STILL, IT'D BE AN HONOUR TO BE STRUCK BY YOU. MOTHER GAIA
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Aug 20, 2020
Aug 20, 2020 at 1:47 AM UTC
ATTENTION!
Conceiving anew, Gaia Waiting for you, Messiah I have ideas swirling in my mind that I give birth to life Nurse these creations until they live in my life Or lives of many these burdens no longer heavy My babies saving me whenever I slip My babies keeping me sane during trips To the night of the dark soul to recover my shattered pieces Take these fragments to the sea To inner peace the blending of all my energies So I can co-create life for my sake because both halves are mine to take I am the seed and the nourishment I can create anything without interference Not one or the other but a combination which is better The ying and yang both blended together Inside of me and my soul, I speak My speech no longer riddled with insecurities Throat chakra open and my knowledge devoted To seeing the world change In Gaia's name
0
Jul 5, 2020
Jul 5, 2020 at 2:41 PM UTC
Gaia
You can search far and wide for a beauty that matches hers. Only Gaia can hint at the beauty she possesses. Her eyes are a soft green, A gentle aquamarine like that of the sea; They captivate and tranquilize you. Only Helen's smile is a pale example of hers, Which leaves you with the desire to see it again; Nothing in nature surpasses her smile. The right words will reveal her laugh, Only the Nightingale's charming melodies can come close; It is a siren's call that you follow repeatedly to hear again. She radiates warmth when she holds you, Like a gentle touch of glow of Apollo on your cheek; A natural peace can be found when her arms are wrapped around you tight. Her dark hair is as soft as a cloud, Yet it runs through your fingers like wild silk; She is a dark-haired version of Aphrodite when her hair is left down. You can travel across the world in search of a beauty like hers, But nothing can match it. It is not restricted to the mortal body. You have to look inside her heart to discover its origin. She is kindness personified, Her scruples displayed in her actions; Maybe she is **** reborn into the modern world. She holds conversations with all, But she befriends only a select few; Her exclusive circle open only to those she cherish. I can wonder how blessed they are to be in her presence, I only wish to be in her arms; Yet she has carefully let me in with open arms, While protecting the parts she is not ready for me to glimpse. My patience and support she will eternally have, As a friend, companion, or more; Her happiness is my ever reaching ambition. Not even Gaia can compete against this dark-haired mortal goddess, Whose strength I forever admire. She will always remain a compelling presence in my life, No matter the Fates' intentions for our lives.
0
Jun 23, 2020
Jun 23, 2020 at 5:11 PM UTC
Divine Mortal
You can search far and wide for a beauty that matches hers. Only Gaia can hint at the beauty she possesses. Her eyes are a soft green, A gentle aquamarine like that of the sea; They captivate and tranquilize you. Only Helen's smile is a pale example of hers, Which leaves you with the desire to see it again; Nothing in nature surpasses her smile. The right words will reveal her laugh, Only the Nightingale's charming melodies can come close; It is a siren's call that you follow repeatedly to hear again. She radiates warmth when she holds you, Like a gentle touch of glow of Apollo on your cheek; A natural peace can be found when her arms are wrapped around you tight. Her dark hair is as soft as a cloud, Yet it runs through your fingers like wild silk; She is a dark-haired version of Aphrodite when her hair is left down. You can travel across the world in search of a beauty like hers, But nothing can match it. It is not restricted to the mortal body. You have to look inside her heart to discover its origin. She is kindness personified, Her scruples displayed in her actions; Maybe she is **** reborn into the modern world. She holds conversations with all, But she befriends only a select few; Her exclusive circle open only to those she cherish. I can wonder how blessed they are to be in her presence, I only wish to be in her arms; Yet she has carefully let me in with open arms, While protecting the parts she is not ready for me to glimpse. My patience and support she will eternally have, As a friend, companion, or more; Her happiness is my ever reaching ambition. Not even Gaia can compete against this dark-haired mortal goddess, Whose strength I forever admire. She will always remain a compelling presence in my life, No matter the Fates' intentions for our lives.
Continue reading...
38
A chilled afternoon in May, Looking to the sky for light. Gloom surrounding my town, Leaving no light to be found. A sigh escapes in the form of wind. Uncertainty portrayed through clouds. Mother Nature is kind. Gaia is bold Earth is undefined.
0
May 6, 2020
May 6, 2020 at 12:13 PM UTC
Nature's Uncertainty