"ecosystems" poems
I. Neptune’s Theater
A rock spins through the universal tumbler
and its warm blue pools calcify
as turquoise Neptune in his cloudy blue bath bath
builds a lace castle with his fingertips
Sculpts a submerged eden of crimson and emerald
where painted parrots chat up cardinals
butterfly and angel fry sway with wave pulse
and foliated coral fingers beckon from arched windows.
Neptune’s children are flat and bright, spined and notched
free yet entangled in lace mesh ecosystem
beneath an array of bioluminescent stars
as a gangly pretender watches and blows bubbles.
II. Sapien Siege
The hot acidic hand of death grasps
the mesh rends and tangles
the ecosystem shattered
reef’s loosed children scream beneath planet’s stars.
Butterflies impaled
cyanide-swooning damsels
mesh-tangled angels hauled heavenward
coral to potash, corpses to coal.
The pretender to the throne blinks
rubs blurry lenses,
kicks plastic fins
and moves on to the next show
Unseeing and unaware
of the luminous filament in his wake.
Self-appointed divinity,
deus ex machina.
*******************************************************************************************
Ann says: All of the animal and human characters in this poem (except Neptune and The Pretender) are named after coral reef fish. Coral reefs, one of the most diverse ecosystems, are expected to be largely extinct within one human generation. Deus ex machina is Latin for “God from the machine.”
Copyright 2013 by Ann Marcaida.
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 3:43 PM UTC
There is a forest old as hillsides
tall, majestic, dappled shades
fall on ground beneath the silent
gnarled defenders of the glade.
There they stand in ancient splendour
many souls have passed their way
often used as welcome shelter
from the heat of summers day.
Sweet the air they breathe in chorus
our life's breath their lungs provide,
soaking up our daily poison
so that we may live and thrive.
You seas of men intent to clear them
citing progress, peddling greed
tearing roots from precious mooring
laying waste to nature's seed.
**** the beauty of a landscape
displace creatures for your need
rupture fragile ecosystems
scar the earth and watch it bleed.
To you I ask a simple question,
as I see the land bereaved.
What need has man of all this progress
when he can no longer breathe?
Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 3:17 PM UTC
This specific autumnal celebration is characterised by throbbing obscenities, where a masquerade of piety resembles the trembling jester as he performs before medieval royalty.
Oh, to witness the salmon run in Northern ecosystems where the caniform classification stands in a dominant stance at the edge of the falls.
So, my independent and competitive contemporary, let us bow with sober reflection at those anthropological schools who swim upstream in this spiritual river in the vain pursuit of unattainable freedom.
Today, on this second Monday of October, the name of the game has been brutally ***** by propagandist salesmen.
So, at this juncture of existential consumerism, we stand within the jaws of our ever-smiling aristocracy. But, if you dare to open your eyes, my friend of unfathomable denial; you will find that the tradition is called Thanksgiving.
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 9:46 PM UTC
the bad news is coming in
we are being radically changed
be realistic
stop poisoning the air and water
stop soil erosion
stop degrading forest ecosystems
stop seducing children
stop buying politicians
realism
informs us
in a cuckoo clock
we
need a coninuous supply
of indifference and violence
toward people
all of us are suffering
recreationally
Dec 7, 2011
Dec 7, 2011 at 8:16 AM UTC
Our bodies are not temples,
I will not be invaded as such.
We are ecosystems.
Made of grit, blood, and change.
Packed with multitudes of intricacy,
We love like gushing streams.
Wound like thorned bush.
Hurt by humanity like hunted prey.
As we burn, as we are cut down,
As we are wounded, crippled, abused,
We still grow.
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 5:49 PM UTC
Narcissus gazed upon inky space,
dust reflecting golden starlight into his face,
and he sighed in discontent,
blowing air from his lips to disturb delicate ecosystems he had no place in.
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 2:55 AM UTC
I stand before you, not as an expert, but as a concerned citizen.
One of the four hundred thousand people who marched in the streets of New York on Sunday and the billions of others around the world who want to solve our climate crisis.
As a poet, I pretend for a living. I play fictitious characters often solving fictitious problems. I believe that mankind has looked at climate change in that same way; as if it were a fiction. As if pretending that climate change wasn’t real would somehow make it go away.
But I think we all know better than that now. Every week we’re seeing new and undeniable climate events, evidence that accelerated climate change is here, right now.
Droughts are intensifying, our ocean’s are acidifying, with methane plumes rising up from the ocean floor. We are seeing extreme weather events and the west Antarctic and Greenland ice sheets melting at unprecedented rates decades ahead of scientific projections. The scientific community knows it. Industry knows it. Governments know it. Even the United States military knows it.
The chief of the US navy’s Pacific command, Admiral Samuel Locklear recently said that climate change is our single greatest security threat.
My friends, this body, perhaps more than any other gathering in human history now faces this difficult but achievable task.
You can make history or you will be vilified by it.
To be clear, this is not about just telling people to change lightbulbs or to buy a hybrid car. This disaster has grown beyond the choices that individuals make. This is now about our industries and our governments around the world taking decisive large-scale action. We need to put a price tag on carbon emissions and eliminate government subsidies for all oil, coal, and gas companies. We need to end the free ride that industrial polluters have been given in the name of a free market economy. They do not deserve our tax dollars, they deserve our scrutiny. For the economy itself will die if our ecosystems collapse. This is not a partisan debate, it is a human one. Clean air and a livable climate area inalienable human rights and solving this crisis is not just a question of politics. It is a question of our own survival. But now it is your turn.
The time to answer humankind’s greatest challenge, is now. We beg of you to face it with courage and honesty.
Thank you
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 6:51 AM UTC
little lamb doing wolf damage
you watch me like prey
mouth open. drooling.
eyes filled to the brim with hunger.
i am filled to the brim and you can see it.
i’m blushing. bleeding.
you peel me like a plum.
plump and juicy in your palm. ripened you roll me
between your thumb and your forefinger.
squeeze out every last drop of sweetness.
still drooling over me. i am drooling over you.
i want to be eaten alive. anticipating it. dripping.
i am a forest and snails make their sticky paths down my thighs.
i am a forest and leaves bloom and swish as my fingernails grow.
i am a forest and branches grow in every place you touch. i am so big so tall so wise.
i grow and grow with each caress. birds fly out of my hair and sing love songs. my feet heady soil i am grounded. finally grounded.
i am a forest and you’re a seasoned explorer.
i am a forest and you’re the tiger stalking within my lushness for something to devour.
devour me.
i am tropical. i am palm trees and rare fruit. i am sap in your palms sticky and staying.
i am sitting open. staying open. i feel you crouch behind my reeds. you dig your claws deeper into wet soil.
you watch me like prey.
i watch myself dribble down your chin.
i am tropical. plum sweetness juice juice sticky sweet staying on fingertips staining your mouth.
i am coconuts cracked open on rocks ready ready to be consumed.
i am licked clean from ***** fingertips.
Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 11:55 PM UTC
Delicate atmosphere
Intrinsically understood
Nature's intricate ecosystems
Our planetary amniotic fluid
Unborn children
Safe within the womb
Helplessly pondering our existence
Relentlessly hoping that soon
Something will save us
Will come to wake us up
As if this life is not enough..
I wonder if the star that exploded
and created the atoms of which I consist
is proud of the reincarnation
that has grown to presently exist
This life giving source
My Mother; this Earth
To whom we owe our lives
for the very possibility of birth.
Safe in our first moments
inside our Mother's womb
While our Mothers were safe within Hers
This Earth is a living entity
and we must protect the roots of truth
from which the gift of life occurs.
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 2:17 AM UTC
My hair is a jungle.
Wild and dangerous
The color of a palm tree's trunk.
It flows down like a waterfall
With wild rapids at the bottom.
The mysteries of the Amazon are in there
Along with the fire of secret indigenous tribes.
Layers of complex ecosystems
(similar to the various hormonal states of a young adult female)
Make it a treacherous place to venture
But some come out alive.
You cannot tame the wild jungle
Unless you cut it down.
Jun 6, 2010
Jun 6, 2010 at 5:24 PM UTC
Sub-atomic particles
the atoms they form
molecules, cell organelles
cells, machinery of life
organs, organisms
communities and ecosystems
planets, solar systems, galaxies
galactic clusters and their inverse
black holes the doors to other
universes, a contradiction
in terms.
For language and its shadow
consciousness must hold matter
the material world snugly inside concepts
theories and hypotheses to be
experimentally verified using vision
and the other senses, collecting data
and interpreting the known facts
accumulated over time.
Can matter
exist without a consciousness to behold it?
Believing in
our mortality (the species)
we have created God
(a supreme being)
probably not carbon-based
to encompass every universe
but is God
inside or outside
consciousness? Can God
tell us what to do
or must we tell God
alone
what to do?
Here is ego
projecting personality, exerting force
on community, asserting the existence
and predominance of component DNA.
An already hackneyed theory that DNA
survival drives
procreation, personality, savings bonds
everything but poetry (most poems included).
Mustache, cowboy hat
horse whisperer, gulag master
Odysseus, King Lear
salvation in the details.
Yes, these personalities individual and interesting
as opossum, bear
oak and ash
beech nut, pine cone
Grand Canyon sandstone, Green Mountain granite.
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 5:13 PM UTC
It is incumbent upon us to interpret various environments in this multi-dimensional tapestry of holistic landscapes, where celestial ecosystems abound with pulsating organisms of diversity.
So, let us translate our literary concepts in silence, as we traverse cross-cultural vistas of universality.
As indigenous beings reach beyond the sparse and pompous settlements of our ******* city towers; there is something incomprehensible which transcends our ambling walk through this urban pasture, as the train departs from the classical platform of El Chorro.
I am mesmerised by linguistic creativity, as she echoes throughout distant galaxies of enriched and unspoken mystical vocabularies.
As empirical verification is not possible, I must beseech thee: Where are the connoisseurs of this poetic dimension?
Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 10:49 PM UTC
On a bright and sunny day
On the 18th of May
An earthquake resulted in a landslide
That unleashed a massive force brewing inside
The eruption removed the upper 1,300 feet
The magma chamber burst- rock & gas blown at supersonic speed
Within 8 miles, all was instantly wrecked
With a shockwave so big, what could one expect?
As the north slope collapsed down
All life forms began to drown
Every tree in sight swept away
19 miles outward; a ruinous ashtray
Silence breaks as ash falls like snow
The once mature landscape now just an embryo
What had become a lifeless terrain,
Now shows us what 35 years can attain.
After the volcanic cataclysm
Biological legacies determine the pace of new ecosystems
The following colonizers proceed:
Lupines, pearly everlasting, alder shrubs, and fireweed.
The coniferous forest was replaced
The deciduous Alder trees won the race
The new forest attracts grasshoppers, birds, and ants
Larks, gophers, sparrows and deer mice take a chance
Out of 256 species alive prior to the eruption,
86 are now in production
20% of the surface is covered with grass and legumes
Struggling young trees that endeavor to bloom
Ecological gaps begin to fill
Strong ecosystems form, production is uphill.
Elk arrives to munch on grass and bark
The thick forests attract birds, like larks.
Fallen logs create nutrients and feed biofilm to the lake
Floating ecosystems now have plenty resources to take
Elevation affects the rate of recovery reports.
The higher the colder, which means the growing season is short.
The loss of trees means more room for sun
As the lake warms up, there’s increased production
More insects and bigger fish, like rainbow trout
Salamanders are scarce now, not many about.
Lupines deserve their own stanza, those purple legumes.
They help make a pumice landscape suitable for others to bloom.
Lupines create essential nutrients the pumice is low on
Other plants are thankful for the rare space to grow on.
All this information hopefully to inspire,
Life pulls through in situations most dire.
Mount Saint Helens’ destructive wake is seen clearly today,
The eruption that obliterated had also paved a way.
May 18, 2022
May 18, 2022 at 11:31 AM UTC
Water that stands still becomes a poisonous petri dish of parasites
No one willingly drinks it
No one, not even dogs can survive on it
You told me people were changing
Tried to make me promise not to change
I didn’t think anything of it
I’ve always been a creature of habit
But I didn’t realize every still frame you took of us was turning us too still -
Stagnent
Every Creek runs a stream
Every stream runs a river
And water is always traced back to the oceans
The oceans
They support millions if not billions of creatures
Millions of different sources creating a big beautiful constantly moving changing habitat
Every part working together
And while parts of the ocean get terribly still
There is always a storm
Wave crashing destroying beautiful things
Only to be rebuilt in an even more fantastic way
Now don’t get me wrong stagnant water supports life
Like disease carrying bugs
And the bacteria that can give you malaria
Stagnation can take over whole creeks, streams, even ponds
Destroying whole ecosystems
Letting things rot
You said that I have started to change
Tried to make me think I was doing the wrong thing
When I put myself and my family first
When I kept running
You kept yelling
“WE HAVE TO STAND STILL”
Your toxicity can no longer touch me
I’ve found the ocean
An amazing ecosystem working together supporting life
Moving together and separately
Supporting growth
While your stagnant puddles are evaporating from the sunlight,
The bugs keep crawling on you
But your disease can no longer touch me
Parasites can no longer reach me
I’m running and flowing
moving and growing through this ocean
And you stay still
In your still frame stagnant puddle
Nov 22, 2016
Nov 22, 2016 at 10:41 AM UTC
As the moon drifts further into the starry void,
Turning seas into watery graves;
The sun exudes heat, melting icecaps, and stirring up ecosystems.
Burning still in underground caves;
Coal...natural gas.. What shall we do? When all is consumed, there will be no use for you!
Soon they say, we shall fall, despite government policies like Kyoto protocol;
We have made better steps to ensure our safety...
But is it too late? Has our haste not been hasty?
Have our efforts been as strong, as the cars that we drive?
As the days move along; what will survive?
That is the question that comes first to mind;
Before clearing the thickets of woodlands and pine.
Before killing the terrorists... although I'm concerned;
Are we not the terrorist, to the rainforest and fern?
"Of course not!" they say, with such ill-thought conviction;
Well if that is not the case, then tell me your plan of transition.
Instead of restriction. We all have a right to be free; but each of us needs to understand and practice sustainability.
Like every tree, or animal that came before me...
All have a place in the world, which we live,
All have a reason, and truth that they give;
All have a story and a place in our history,
All have the same future; it's not such as mystery!
We are born, then we die, and go back to the land.
Never mind of religion; if it's used to command.
They will try and find a reason of sharing no blame,
For themselves, to the earth, to the wind, to the rain.
But now is the time when reality sheds light, on the brave few that are given wisdom and insight;
To stand up and be counted, will not take any lies; will not salute any flags, will not stand up and fight;
In any war - peace is upheld.... Guns are forgotten, and people are not jailed;
For speaking their thoughts, not keeping them in; to turn into cancer - of sadness and sorrow...
Tomorrow we say.... we'll get up and start, but it's time for a change.
If not to the world - then at least to your heart.
Jan 14, 2019
Jan 14, 2019 at 9:29 PM UTC
Choice
Responsibility
Interlocking concepts
But rarely as simple
as cause and effect
We always have a choice
To act
To react
To endure
To survive
Choice is a source of power
It can’t be taken away by another
Don’t believe them when they say
“You have no choice”
Even if they
are you
But our choices alone
are rarely the only cause
of our circumstances
Other peoples’ choices
The systems we must navigate
Our environments and ecosystems, human-built and beyond
All contribute to determine
the fertility of the soil
from which our range of choices grow
In fertile soil
Choices abound
But even in barren soil
You still must choose
To act
To react
To endure
To survive
While holding onto hope
for future change
Through intention
Through community
Through action
To believe that your choices alone
Are responsible for an outcome
Whether fortunate
Or dire
Is the height of arrogance
Born of a need to feel in control
Of the world around you
We all should be held accountable for our choices
But take care
How you parcel out responsibility
and blame
To yourself
To others
With awareness of the state of the soil
from which those choices grew
Aug 20, 2022
Aug 20, 2022 at 8:34 PM UTC
Deep into the rainforest, a struggle to survive
From insects to leaved trees, wanting all to thrive
The habitat of animals, species all around
Living things a-plenty, crawling on the ground
The four main layers play a different role
The bio-diversity forms part of the whole
The dark forest floor and the understory
Shorter plants existing, many bugs to see
The vibrant middle layer, yet forms the canopy
Climbing the emergent, just like a monkey
The strong plant materials, helps to build a home
For people of the Amazon, food that has been grown
Tropical regions, Equator ever near
A moderate climate, giant trees are here
Forests on a mountain, misty all around
Coated in a moss, such an eerie surround
North and South America and Oceania
Asia and Europe, as well as Africa
There’s a cycle of life, yet deforestation
Affects the homes of animals for plantation
Removing ecosystems, can cause erosion
Droughts as well as flooding, less cohesion
The modern ways of man affects vegetation
Contributing to a silent devastation
Replanting, recycling, assisting with crops
Steps of preservation quench like raindrops
The precious seeds and life, of which can be found
Yet, it’s not too late to turn this world around
Written by Geraldine Taylor ©
Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 12:36 PM UTC
Dear future self,
I wish I were you
so I would know if it was possible to stop hating myself.
I see other people do it so flawlessly
but every time I do I wind up deeper in this dark trench,
struggling to keep air in my lungs.
It's hard to do when you feel the ocean draining from your body
as if the tide were running low for now,
creeping farther and farther away from the shore
but i don't remember the last time the tide was high;
I feel like the waves will never touch the shore again.
The ecosystems along the sand are all ******* up
because this one small thing has changed;
I can't count the number of times I've tried pouring water on the dry beach
to trick the world into thinking everything was normal,
I wish it were that simple…
I wish I could throw up,
then maybe the burn of salt water in my throat will remind me that I'm real,
that I'm not just some empty cave,
echoing for eternity with my sobs,
but the water will only leave through my eyes.
It runs down my face and stains my faded jeans,
spelling out messages to me from the world:
"overdramatic"
"waste of space"
"get over it"
How could I possibly get over it when I can't even think clearly?
God **** it's so hard to breathe.
We as humans used to be able to inhale water without it hurting;
it was second nature to us.
but we quickly unlearn this the moment we take our first breath;
most of us will never need this skill again.
I often find myself wondering if I will ever learn how to take in the water like an old friend,
so it will stop being painful,
if my lungs will ever become numb to the sensation of water trickling into them.
Sincerely,
A girl too deep in the abyss to dig herself out
Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 6:21 PM UTC
The seats are aging
Orange leather with
Cracked faces the
Lines of wisdom
Of ninety
Thousand sitters.
Entire ecosystems
Live on the shining
Polished silver of
Handles dulled
By sweaty palms.
Sightline through
A window
A passing loco
Blurred brief
Images of
Unknown faces.
Sightline to the
Chamber behind
The metal snake
Winds down the track
A touch of vertigo
From uneven motion.
Sightline to
Cascades of light
Brown curls
Flowing over
Porcelain shoulders.
Smooth skin
Sweet as aspartame
Skii slope neckline
Heavenly form
Yellow dress
Slight movement
To the heavenly forms
Pouring through
White earbuds.
Sightline to Sightline
Meet in the air
Muddy brown
Graced by
Kaleidoscope
Greens yellows hazels browns
Electric charge
No other passengers
Perceive.
The doubled thump
Wump
Picks up speed with a
Coy smile
A sunrise blossoming
Over Eden
The birth of an
Angel
The thirst of desert
Sands
Quenched.
Beauty erupts
From the shared gaze
Held 6 stops
Past hoyt-schermerhorn.
Immediate
Immaculate
Connection
Fire through the air
Static charge
Primal lust
Infinite joy
If I could just
Say hello
Hi
You've enraptured
My soul
The epitome of
Beauty.
I sit instead
Stuck
Deer in headlights
****
My twisting insides
The grey says
Such monstrous
Things to itself.
Her stop.
****
Broken gaze,
Disconnected
From the maze
Of her eyes.
I lament.
Sightline back
To page:
"Those that have crossed paths are not memories
Nor is the yellowish dove that sleeps in oblivion..."
I lament some more
At the poignancy
And the loss of a stranger
Made just for me.
She probably would've
Broken my pumping
Gears anyway,
Sayonara, c'est la vie.
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 10:48 PM UTC
The exact representation of deception is likened to a delusional cognition which tunnels its way through craggy mountain ecosystems of the prefrontal cortex.
The impairment of your executive functioning is evident, oh grandiose master of self-aggrandisement.
It is now 04.20hrs in the Britannic pastures where desert storms are a figment of extravagant wishes to be recognised.
Although it is charmingly magical to harken to your lunacy, it is mercenary of the battalions to fathom the pathology of your blatant insignificance within the universe of vain imaginations.
Hereford is the base of winning, if you are brazen enough to engage with the feat.
Selah, my psychotic expression of wishful psychopathy.
One more thing: please check your spelling.
Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 10:34 PM UTC
Our bilingual illiteracy and contemporary expression of vintage infancy remind me of developmentally mature eccentricities within a complex haven of interpersonal dynamics.
Just like a carnival hall of mirrors, our perceptual disturbances succumb to elaborate revelations and dreadful expositions of what we presume to be articulate prose.
Although the socio-political roots of a seductive striptease may shatter the silence of our audible and urban ecosystems, we can now access realms which connect to the severance of divided collusion.
Our galaxy has established her infinite story, in the same manner as a wrought iron gate interferes with the evidence within our contemporary society.
It is just like an alternate universe.
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 1:02 AM UTC
Stay on the trail
We say
Don’t disturb the environment
We believe
Limiting our presence
is best
But is the trail truly separate from its surroundings?
Just for a moment
leave the trail behind
Step on the grass
Settle into the dirt
Sink into the water
Feel the rock
The sand
The soil
Any of it
All of it
We are not confined to the trails
Not our influence
Nor our impact
We are not separated
Kept safe and apart
By the trails, roads, structures that we make
The illusion of our disconnection
From our ecosystems
is
dangerous
Allowing us to only play the role of
Savior with our absence
Destroyer with our presence
Both Savior and Destroyer are outsiders
Gods that act on the world
While remaining removed
Unaffected
We are not gods
We are
players in all ecosystems
entrenched in all food webs
affected and affecting
Only by seeing ourselves in the picture
Neither problem nor solution
But part of all processes start to finish
Can we see what conservation truly is
Conservation of balance
Conservation of community
Conservation of self
as part of the whole
Static equilibrium is not the goal
Our world has always been dynamic
Ever changing
Ever evolving
Each player in an ecosystem gives as well as takes
How do we give?
Can we balance our give and take
Find reciprocity
in each unique facet of our world
I believe we can
We must
We will
Imperfectly but with purpose
Through setbacks and leaps ahead
And I need you to believe it too
Mar 2, 2022
Mar 2, 2022 at 9:36 PM UTC
So I watched the dolphins jumping in the bow wave..
And there was no other way to say at it, they were playing
There is no reason to spend the energy needed to swim faster than our boat, or jump above the waves
But they do it
Creatures of the surf and current, but they must feel the same joy
What else could inspire them so? We're not so different.
Our brains have similar structures
All of us are ghosts in our shells, or are our shells what gave rise to the ghosts?
Are we even that much?
Mechanisms driven by chemical, physical, and electrical reactions
Life as an equation, playing out its course on a vast scale
Cells multiply and divide according to fluid mechanics at the earliest stages in development
They arrange themselves as dictated by protein sequences forming
Bodies which are microcosms, ecosystems within ecosystems
See the tortoise with the world atop its back
We are wind dancers on the beach
Wave swimmers of the sea
Sun takers of the earth
See the earth as a cell
Alive and pulsing at the fringes and from within
Time unfurls before us as the night sky
And we are driven by the forces around us to exist
to fall, break, feel, let go, run through the rain and... be
Laughter, art, math, music, dance, and everything else are ways of making life more bearable
Ways of playing with the world, arranging shapes and sounds and ideas into interesting new patterns
Dancing in the bow wave
But what are we really playing at, and why?
I think we play at being infinite
and infinity plays at being us
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 4:48 AM UTC
I see bodies
Huddled on the floor
Laying lifeless
Drained of hope
Deprived of what could be
Decorated with knives
Tattoos stained with
Resentment
And self-hatred
Does anyone care?
They fade into the shadows
And left abandoned
A beauty forgotten
Crumpled
Withering in defeat
From your words
That stab swords
Through hearts
Do you care?
Their eyes once saw
Mountains that touched infinite skies
A blue
So pure and clear
That once mirrored the innocence reflected
In their own
Mountains they planned to climb one day
And reach that place
So high
Their eyes saw (but you never seemed to notice)
Lakes that appear shallow
But hold deep crystals beneath
Along with a whole life force
Flowing curving
Ripples of delight
Ecosystems
Families
Friendships
That harbor her treasures
All connected by watery strands
Of energy
Webs weaving passions and dreams
And touch the depths that dive into hearts
Of the matter
Dreams and passions that can be followed
Pursued with unrelenting
Mysteries to unlock
Their voices spoke words of wisdom that could
Transform into flighty doves and claim wings
That softly land into unbound books
Scrawled in personalized script
With the little curlicues
And indigo ink puddles breathing life
Into blank white pages
All of their own ideas
And opinions
You never cared about their opinions
Their hands caressed another
Their bodies hugged
And encircled
Holding on tight
And passed so much to each other
Saying everything
And nothing
By touch
Contact sizzles
And fire burns
Pressed against another
They never found love
Hearts that beat so loud
And resonate in tune with
The rhythms and patterns in that
Of another
And lost themselves piece by piece
Until their identity reflected that
Of another and became
One
Maybe so
Maybe not
But you’ll never really know
But you said you never cared
Anyway
They once sparkled
Shimmered with life
You took it all away
Their beauty
Their light
Do you care?
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 9:28 PM UTC
I've lived countless lives and loved countless wives
I've defeated voldemort, sauron and countless others
Looted and plundered with the Vikings
Went on psychotic murderous rampages
Built floating, intricate castles in the sky, with balconies out of which I've stared for countless hours, trying to make sense of the patterns made by the constellations shining through the fluffy clouds in the night sky
Settled on a inhabitable planet with a population of only loopy straws whose only purpose in life Seemed to be to force feed me thick foamy milkshakes until the buttons on my jeans popped and I blew up like a balloon and floated away into the skies
I've lived the life of a poem, may it be joyous or pitiful, enraged or complacent, unrhymely or out of verse
An entire planet at times; tectonic plates moving to make and break the shape of continents, and have ecosystems being formed on my being, watch with pleasure as new life forms on my surface and feel the pain of billions of such life forms as they slowly fade out of existence, my core erupting at every moment is what has made my shell so thick and given me the ability to support further life
A box of matchsticks, with each matchstick's head being rubbed against me as it erupts into flames and slowly burns down to ash and cinder
I've been a macho soldier in space blowing up monstrous creatures of disproportionate proportions with gigantic claws and humongous jaws
I've been lived as the creator and guided the evolution of a sea of pebbles through their voyage and to their destination as grains of sand
A spec of dust as it floats from place to place, sits in dark attics for eons till the cleaning lady dusts me off of the rusty old lamp and I fly out of the open window, only to be caught by a passing gust of wind and swept towards the next town where I become one with the earth of which I emerged.
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 3:24 PM UTC