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Shaded Lamp Jun 2014
Oh, how we strut about the world
We, the civilized population
Unsatisfied until we've unfurled
Blankets of our cultivation

How proud we are of the machines
That gauge and plunder the earths crust
To farm by artificial means
Deemed by the "uncivilized" as unjust

The "uncivilized", those wayward tribes
That naively worship this blue globe
Need alcohol and such like prescribed
To adjust malfunctioning temporal lobes

Can they not observe our contentment
And our superior living standard
They squat and rant with some resentment
We are progressive, they have meandered

I wonder when those of tribal birth
Will mature and see we've got it right
And that their unkempt patch of earth
Will make a fine farm or building site

Or better still, once they're packing
Up their dwellings and  possessions
We can begin some civilised fracking
With our governmental concessions

That's what separates us from them
I hope you have now realised
It is a government controlled by business
That makes us so very civilized
I just despair when observing our propensity to consume like kids locked in a sweet shop.
Madeleine Toerne Nov 2013
Is it rude to lean my boots, that which touches the ground, without any kind of discretion or watchfulness, up against the toilet seat and tie them up neat, into little bows?
I'll never know, I suppose, whose bottom will sit, and ****, where I thought it appropriate to mend my un-laced foot.

Is it non-sensical and insensible to stare off into space, breath heavily, and pause in mid edit, while a handsome chap, inside and out, walks past with a stranger? "Call out his name," No, heavens no, do not call out his name.

Are our engagements forever fleeting? Am I to arrange the next meeting? "It's the 21st century," he retorts one day, "I gave you the wrong idea," the next.  Wrong idea? Just because we woke up and smoked a **** together and discussed the pros and cons of city life versus country life doesn't mean you gave me any ideas, I just thought you liked me.  

Wrong idea? Idea, the conception, misconception, that your touching my naked body, meant that from there on out, we were going steady, and I was to call.  

The 21st century, is all that it is cracked up to be.
And I am cracking up, outwardly, while I muse.
Inwardly, I am cracking.  
Needless to say, Athens county should most surely stop fracking.
Nat Lipstadt May 2014
Been off stubbing repeatedly,
my toes,
on the raggedy twisted
sidewalks of a sinking city, not mine,
where here, my own metaphor,
is being hand delivered,
to me, for me, by me

too many cayenne creole paroles,
none of them getting me any freer
none, as of yet,
making me a free parolee

been off studying some
of what I cannot yet do,
parole in libertà,
a language cosmopolitan
of creation, via creative writing
remolding all of the dix senses

been drawn and french quartered,
drilled down, found no unknown
solace deep bedrock grown,
so doing a redistricting of the map personal,
exposing my gardens, my Doric columns,
to any passerby with the
audacity so sheer to look me
in the face direct and say
laissez le bon temps rouler!

looking to liberate my words,
looking for liberty in my words,
in a different melting *** where here
I am a semi-low semi-free
person of color called
Old Fashioned White,
looking for a seasonal hurricane
to move me along,
push me to write in a new style,
developing cayenne words
smothered in jazz à la mode

multi-flirting with multi-fluency,
searching for Experimental
mellifluous words
stolenlen from, and built upon
a thousand years of languages,
river wide delivering its mountain deep
cargo of silt, a city of words, upon it built,
just like the great Mississippi,
changing course every one
                                               thousand years

my mouth, a river opening wide,
catching both salty and fresh,
god's love delivering,
doing the best I can,
writing real fracking poetry for poetry's sake,
not text messages of asstags
kissing nobody's ads of sad dead #hashtags,
following nobody noticeably,
but thrusting your good stuff into my orifices,
most pleasurably deep
                

but never parrying,
                   

      I am a poet social only in this:

my devotion to my crew
                                   stronger every day
for and
                           of that particular poetry,

           I can write better than anyone,
              so big,
                                    sooooooooo easy,

and that's, Steve, Bala, y'all,
how and what I'm doing
and by the way,

Putain Zang Tumb Tumb

you could look it up
In Nor'leans, studying alternate forms of poetry and discarding half-started poems on the street, arrived as a mate on board a steamship, standing on my only good left foot....
All we get is rhetoric,they're just gobbing off and I'm sick of it
we ought to send the ****** lot down the pit
I'm so frustrated I could spit.

They're bearing down on me in Downing street, building
high rise homes but
tearing down the street where I grew up,it
makes me want to throw up,show up with a deputation to
state the case for conservation,but they never listen to the likes
of me,
that's democracy,a bunch of scheming hypocrites sitting in their leather seats and tearing down my ****** streets,the ones where I grew up.

Well,
**** me, fracking's got to be the only saving grace I see,they say they'll frack far,far below,
ha,
so
them ******* at the top will be the first to know
when the whole world falls apart and
the last to bleedin' go.
Do not disturb
your
future is keep off the grass.

This is a life with the cork in
sign languages win
and
the end is nigh.

are these the VIP's
who get
priority seating
preferential treatment?

what is meant by this anyway?

Perhaps
this is true and whatever we do
it comes back to
Perhaps.

I'm stuck
where there's muck
but can't find any brass
and they're fracking for gas,
my days are being filled by
the sound of the drills.

What's left?
Way out to the right?
it all disappears
beware of the night
it's a long time
dark.


The depot.

Do not disturb
your
future is keep off the grass.

This is a life with the cork in
sign languages win
and
the end is nigh.

are these the VIP's
who get
priority seating
preferential treatment?

what is meant by this anyway?

Perhaps
this is true and whatever we do
it comes back to
Perhaps.

I'm stuck
where there's muck
but can't find any brass
and they're fracking for gas,
my days are being filled by
the sound of the drills.

What's left?
Way out to the right?
it all disappears
beware of the night
it's a long time
dark.
David Ehrgott Dec 2014
4W
Oilmen are fracking farcical!
Marshal Gebbie Nov 2015
Sparse grass adorns the hillside
Thinly green against the grey,
Where lurking bull ant wolf packs
Hunt where chirping crickets play.
Way too thin to waft in breezes
Way too thin to really count
Like bad dealerships in Chevrolet
Mostly struggle to surmount.
Like thin pacifists in fist fights
Race, back peddaling for the door,
When, in fact, the convenience
Is a bullet through the floor.
And hot starlets jiggle **** jobs
Strutting carpet, red as rose,
Imitating, superficially here,
Whoredom wishing to impose.
Those roaring Russians, in denial
As their cheating athlete’s pale,
All denied their right of entry
To Olympia’s Holy Grail.
And insipidly they all collapse
In fracking’s blatant wake,
Leaving gloating, fat Americans
Gorging merrily on steak.
Whilst the oceans are advancing
As the ice floes dissipate,
And the clamour is ignored
Though Island nations inundate.
Fractious currencies do vacillate
In global bouts of greed,
Where the rich are fatly richer
And the rest in desperate need.
Where all truth is but a fantasy
Which everyone ignores,
Where expediency is the answer
And future proofing snores.
Black distrusts the whiteness
Islam hates the Jew,
East and West at loggerheads
What hope now…. for you?
Oh sparse grass adorns the hillside
Thin green against the grey,
Where the morrow is a vaugary
And worrisome it’s way.

M.
Friday 13th November 2015
daniela Sep 2015
they say don’t become a teacher
if you want to make money,
become a teacher
if you want to make a difference.
true enough, when you’ve got hundreds of
young impressionable minds staring up
at you from 7:40 until 2:40 everyday
still unmolded like hunks of clay,
you’ve got a weird kind of power in your hands.    
so maybe it makes sense that
my art teacher starts class some days
with a ten minute sermon on the hazards of fracking
that blurs into his feelings on education in america,
all before we even make a mark on our canvases.  
my art teacher is a bit of a conspiracy theorist,
but i think all myths are rooted in some fact
and all conspiracy theories started with a little bit of truth
so i like to listen instead of rolling my eyes.
some days instead of painting and teaching us
about shapes of value
he takes up his worn down soapbox,
preaching to a choir that doesn’t care much for singing.
today, he starts talking about color
and way we perceive it
and as i watch, it spirals into a lecture
on the universe
and the way we believe in it.  
color is just reflecting light,
the world is just a reflection of how we perceive it.
matrix of the mind, we see through projector eyes.
the world is a CD, our brains are a scanner
the biggest video game there ever was.  
we’re all holographic minds, he says,
what will you find if you pick yourself a part?
nothing but 1’s and 0’s,
reading like a laser and telling you stories.
he paints a picture with more than brushes,
with his hands waving,
talking about the emptiness of the world
in comparison fullness we believe it to have.
the world isn’t there, the world isn’t real, he says.
these bodies of ours are just space suits,
how silly of us to care about their imperfections
and insignificant differences when really
they’re just just vessels.
we’re just tripping on an acidic universe,
the world is just a bandwidth
and how we read it is based on what we believe in.  
and isn’t that comforting? he asks,
isn’t that freeing?
to know that nothing is real,
so nothing can hurt you?
isn’t it incredible? he says, when you think of it
that way you have nothing to fear.
but you see, knowing is pretty **** different
than believing.
knowing that theoretically, technically,
nothing can hurt you
doesn’t mean you won’t still hurt.
human feelings cannot be quantified
and analyzed so neatly and completely despite our very best efforts.
we are all too messy, we are all outliers in our own rights.
knowing or believing that reality isn’t real
doesn’t change the way hunger feels or the way a heart breaks.
intelligence does not alleviate fear,
really i think it’s more likely to intensify it
because then it’s harder to ignore anything.  
you know what they say: ignorance is bliss.
and maybe reality is perception
and nothing can hurt us if nothing's real
but i'm pretty sure if somebody shot me in the head
i'd still be pretty ****** no what reality
i’ve been perceiving.  
perception does not protect you from reality
like a bullet proof vest does.
and he talks about how belief systems
dictate everything you do,
how they close you off from anything new.  
this enlightened guy who preaches about the universe
in one breath and says,
"you know, most girls don’t like sci-fi," in another,
doesn’t even realize what kind of beliefs
he has internalized himself.
but then i suppose we only see what we want to see,
only notice what we want to take in.  
and don't get me wrong i like him i do,
this art teacher with all his big ideas
about the universe we reside in.
i like him in that way we’re all familiar with
where you sometimes have to ignore
an off-handed comment to still like people
but that's another story, that's another poem.
so if a tree falls in an empty forest with no one around
to hear it then does it even make a sound?
if i am speaking to any empty room
then do my words even matter?
if i am alone then do i still exist without anyone
there to take witness?
what i’m trying to say is:
i don’t think the world stops existing
if there’s no one there to see it.
crimes still happen with no witnesses,
miracles still happen with no witnesses.
maybe the world is just a bandwidth
and how we read it is based on what we believe in,
and maybe your belief system colors your view
like kids with crayons and coloring books,
and in a lot of cases they can close your mind
like a trap door,
but there is nothing wrong with belief and believing.
for some people it is all they have.
and even if i don’t believe in god,
who i am to play the part
and try to shatter other people’s realities?
what good will come the broken glass?
maybe we are mice in our mazes;
but if we are happy here,
blissfully ignorant as we may be,
is that a bad thing?
and even in the labyrinth there is still sometimes light,
even deep in the maze some people
find a place to rest.
Sam Temple Aug 2014
lasing fallacies
facilitated by flunkies
fictionalizing facts
for freedom
re-done interiors
inferior to craftsmanship of old
offer glimpses into consciousness
of the common folk
squandering birthrights
for a burger richer in trans fat
and bacon flavoring
atop an evangelical spire
I peer into soulless zombies
seeking connection
with my kin
only to have reality slap me back
as wolves are kin to pugs
but they cannot coexist
storm clouds gather
night falls
tears drop
I am alone
bone dry dust bowl
harboring fuchsia scorch marks
landscape scars
fracking remnants
humanity’s blight
my line of sight tracks trite sprites
pixie wings and bath salts
eating dog faces for jesus
or worse
feces
out of hunger
horrified I recoil to a safe spot within
again
with old friends
in the din
I win
Brent Kincaid Apr 2016
Automobiles and road rage
Alcohol and steering wheels
Texting and driving
The Military and U.S. Steel
Banks and mercy
Fashion and comfort
Priests and Godliness
Trade alliances and imports.

Republicans and The Constitution
Bigots and non-Caucasians
Christians and homosexuals
Unbalanced equations.
Elitists and human flaws
The rich and the poor.
Anger and loaded guns
You and the Jews next door.

They are naturally equal
But they’re exactly opposite
Sometimes they balance
But often there’s no sense to it.

Attorneys and justice
Lobbyists and compassion.
Science and the church
Trust and politicians.
Monsanto and private farms
Pipelines and ecology
Fracking and water rights
Minorities and majorities.

Hope and desperation
Citizen’s rights and Tea Party
Media and integrity
Politics and morality
Free enterprise and monopolies
Censorship and free press
Freedom of expression
And illegal social duress.

They are naturally equal
But they’re exactly opposite
Sometimes they balance
But often there’s no sense to it.
Anais Vionet Dec 2022
It’s December, it’s foggy and rainy, but that fits. Of course, a rainy Saturday means gathering in the common room with my roommates and watching either “The Hunger Games” or “Twilight.” Leong’s never seen Twilight, believe it or not, what are they DOing in China? We were explaining that It’s ok to talk through Twilight because it’s completely senseless. Yeah, good times.

We got back from Thanksgiving break, and we had to hit it - grinding to squeeze half a semester into 18 days. It’s a cornucopia of pressure. Yes, we’ve hit the books, but we’re still us.

Here’s a question: What’s the first season in December? “Spotify wrapped” season! EVERYONE has Spotify and once a year you get a summary of your listening habits. The reports came out this week and it’s all people are talking about. Comparing their lists, artists, tastes. Those lists say a lot about someone and it’s ok to not have taste, we should normalize it.

My top artist was Taylor Swift (duh) my top song was Taylor Swift’s “Renegade,” Spotify says I listened to it 285 times but that’s biased because more than once, when writing a paper, I put that song on a loop for 6 hours. My second most listened to song was “Champagne Problems” By Taylor. That song is so Rory, Gilmore Girls coded - like Rory saying, “you're on your own.” My other top artists are TV Girl, the backseat lovers and hypo campus. Yeah, I roll big.

Taylor’s also been in the conversation because Sophie has an ex-fem-friend (a freshman) who started seeing a 45-year-old guy. Let me ask you, what does a 45-year-old man have in common with an 18-year-old girl? We have Yale friends in their early 20s who consider themselves still teenagers and children and THEY are horrified. It’s naked fracking *******. (Sorry, that one foamed over.)

The whole situation is ripped from Taylor’s 2010 masterpiece “Dear John,” which is about her dating John Mayer when she was 19 and he was 30-something. Her friends warned her, but she wouldn’t hear. Taylor Swift can be corny, and I love the corn, but she can be topical too and even though I was 7 when she released “Dear John” (2010), it’s a timeless lesson.
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Cornucopia: “an inexhaustible, overflowing abundance”
why..why do we all want to go to the place..
where everyone follows the rule..
where every where
..and...everything is clean and ti-ty, quiet, and BLAND!...like plan oatmeal
..Why not! go to a place...
where everything is a crazy upside down world when everyone breaks the rules..
takes chances and goes wild. (God did you ever think of it like that..well, I have) and I  think it would be fun to have the misadventures and doing what I want
WOOO!
to feel more alive when I’m not.. have you ever felt that before and be honest.. really have you.  
I understand that I would rather have zombies at a party then nuns. Nuns are vicious                                    
Its like choosing a fire ******* over a M1 Abrams tank.BOOM!
If I was to rest for eternity I want it to be adventurous a world up-side-down,
not a place where there is nothing to do but listen to silence. Like a fracking library God i hate libraries  
When someone tells me that I have to Believe what they believe
so i can be happy all I say “sorry bro,already watched tosh.0 I know where i’m heading”
Why say your amens when you can eat almonds with chocolate
One cannot underestimate the importance of conviction.

This is a creed to which I always have found truth,
it guides me along my chosen path, quite nicely.
Why is it so true, you may ask? The answer is simple.
Conviction is the salesman of deception.

When you have conviction in the words you say,
the majority of people will believe your every way.
You can sell steaks to vegetarians, milk to vegans,
welfare to conservatives, and to conservationists, fracking.

More often than not, people do not, in truth, care
about things like honesty and nobility, and other 'tys.
They desire the things they want to hear, the comfort
of a beautiful, loving lie whispered in their ear.

If you would, perchance, inquire an example,
consider a family I met on a trip in Iowa.
Through simple conviction of my words,
I convinced them I needed a brain transplant.

Little did their feeble minds make the connection,
a transplant of sorts did indeed occur then.
But not from brain to brain was this operation,
it was from their weighty wallet to mine.

Believe you me, conviction is the key to all.
So, if you wish to make the skies rain for you
practice your speech, bellow your voice,
gesticulate your motions, mind your expressions.

This last tip, of this is most import, is to believe.
Believe in the words you know to be false,
as if they were the last words your mother ever said,
and the common, simple man will you make believe.

Now, you perhaps may be questioning my creed,
whether or not it is truly 'right' to make pockets bleed.
Dispose your silly questions of morality petty,
but if it comforts your bleeding heart, then consider this.

As I said, people do not want to hear the truth.
It is a poison to the ears, and a toxin to the heart,
it can pain one ceaselessly with grief ever pouring
like some sort of grim faucet of running tears.

The truth stings worst, and people like ourselves,
we are the doctors of deceptions who prescribe
placebos that comfort and heal those emotional wounds.
Like a comforting static, we tell them what they want to hear.

Luckily for men such as myself, the line between telling
and selling is thinner than ice. All it takes is some
faint hint of manipulation, along with a good dose
of conviction, and the mark is had, the sale is made.

So when you find yourself feeling somehow guilty,
just remember that what we provide is a noble service.
And if you, still, feel the pangs of shame stabbing you,
just stop and check your pocket stabbing you with wealth.

There is but one warning I would be most remiss,
if I were to not dispense, and you're the fool, if you miss.
There exists a certain breed of people who will see
through your pretty words and sweet deception.

They are the minority of those who seek Truth,
that fleeting fool, and will try to debunk you through.
When placed as equals, Truth will always defeat Lie,
but this, do not fear, for we possess a certain weapon.

We possess a strength in numbers, that mob mentality.
If a job well you've done, then you should have a flock
to fight their logic with loudness, to strike their honesty with hate,
to stab their reason with rakes, to slice their knowing with noise.

If all goes according to the stated plan of attack,
then you should not have to fight or argue at all,
to dismiss those pesky gnats of truth who would
try and illumine our vile fraudulence clear.

And so, we are free to continue leading and deceiving,
the very ones who for us they fight at our side.
It is an agreeable arrangement we have found,
and one that you will soon enough warm up to.

I know this will be a phrase I have repeated,
but it is a most mighty maxim that bears to be said.
Never underestimate the importance of conviction,
when you seeks to practice the art of deception.
Bob B Dec 2016
Say good-by to the old year;
Say hello to the new.
Let go of the past and try to recast
A new and exciting you.
Say good riddance to all of your worries;
Start out fresh and clean.
Strive to find peace of mind
In TWENTY SEVENTEEN.

The past year was a messy one
With floods in the Midwest.
Then the ruler of North Korea,
Who has to be possessed
And thumbs his nose at the world and is
Always involved in a tussle,
Exploded a hydrogen bomb, thus
Flexing his little muscle.
LGBT and voting rights
Were both under attack.
Horrible massacres occurred
In Pakistan and Iraq.
In Syria and Afghanistan
Massacres happened as well.
And Jerusalem and Saudi Arabia
Both had a taste of hell.

Record-breaking blizzards made
The East cold and wet.
Scaring the world, the Zika virus
Continued to be a threat.
The water in Flint, Michigan,
Was an ongoing crisis.
Ancient ruins in the Middle East
Were STILL being bombed by ISIS.
The Clinton e-mail "scandal" grew
To ridiculous proportions.
More and more states were killing
Women's rights to abortions.
President Erdogan in Turkey
Cracked down on the press.
In the South China Sea, China
Was causing a lot of distress.

Britain voted to leave the EU.
Obama went to Japan
And visited Hiroshima--
A long-overdue plan.
Russia hacked U.S. computers
And boasted of certain connections,
Making us wonder how much control
We have over elections.
Summer record-breaking heat
Baked many states,
While the media bombarded us
With presidential debates.
The Summer Olympics took place this year
In lovely Rio, but mercy!
It's always hard to pull that off
Without some controversy.

This year we lost some famous people--
Too many to list.
Bowie, Ali, Leonard Cohen
And others will be missed.
(By the way, if memories here
Tend to focus on bad things,
Just remember that life is full
Of both happy and sad things.)
The economy has made improvements;
Unemployment is down.
Some businesses, they say,
Are really going to town.
Many people want to know
How much Donald Trump earns;
The billionaire still refuses
To show us his tax returns!

Fires raged in California.
In Oklahoma the land
Shook from fracking quakes, which
Are getting out of hand.
Protesters demonstrated
Together at Standing Rock
The oil pipeline coming their way.
They gathered round the clock.
Hurricane Mathew slammed hard
Into our eastern coast.
But Glenn Beck's conversion was
What shocked us the most,
Next to the presidential election,
That is. What a surprise!
And to think the unthinkable happened
Right before our eyes!

But say good-by to the old year;
Say hello to the new.
Let go of the past and try to recast
A new and exciting you.
Say good riddance to all of your worries;
Start out fresh and clean.
Strive to find peace of mind
In TWENTY SEVENTEEN.

- by Bob B (12-28-16)
Spending good money on theater tickets for a fright when the six o'clock news plays for free each night ? Pay top dollar for " Spring water " bottled in plastic choking the oceans ? Sugar free sodas are nothing more than a cumulative poison just like all the others ! Marijuana is taboo , but fast food is cool ? Twenty years for selling it ! Perfectly fine to feed your kids rat poison with a toy stuck in it ! Pay no attention to a refreshing drink that cleans the terminals on car batteries ? Processed flour with roach droppings in it ? Antibiotics , genetically modified produce , earthquakes in Oklahoma from fracking ! Leveling trees in metro Atlanta to build substandard housing !
Copyright October 5 , 2015 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Jess Apr 2018
It’s the world we are attacking
When we all start fracking
The blue skies we used to know
Are now grey and lacking snow
Our earth is getting warm
And we are stirring up storms
We do this all for money
To bring in wealth for our honey
But behind the mask of riches
Is what truly scares the sales pitches
What do they do?
They thicken the mask
For every bad thing always seems to last.
Butch Decatoria Dec 2016
ROAD
          Where choices begin;
          Some are quick to find its end.
          Wise keep journeying.

CARPOOLING
          The heavy traffic
          An ocean's slow ebbing tide
          Our patience drowns in.

METEOR SHOWER
          Friday night space-lights
          As we caress the hours
          Streaks across the sky.

STAINED GLASS
          Broken pieces shapes
          The Cathedral of one's soul.
          Stained light still shines true.

TAI CHI
          Dawn's ceremony
          Wet grass tickling bare feet.
          Wave away the night.

FRACKING
           Jonesy punctures black
          Points in caves, Great Mother weeps
          Wells of poison rain.

NIJINSKY
          So divine his grace
          Words not made to embody
          Ballet when God speaks.

MY WINTER GIFT
         Skin so Downey white,
         Like a cold glass of fresh milk.
         Unwrapping Christmas.

FRENCH KISS
          Such buttery lips
          Silken creams,  wrapping our tongues.
          Sweet patisserie.

VATTO
          Gang signs, ink, and blood.
          ****** in a low Beamer.
          Cool kissing his gun.

ROSARIES
          Madre genuflects
          In brown countries of her hands
          Old beads, sweat, and faith.

DRIVE THRU WEDDING
          Romance thru sunroofs
          Hallelujah honeymoons
          Marriage number two.

HOT TIN ROOFS
          A light Summer breeze
          Cools cacophonous bodies
          like hot stars at night.

NOSTRADAMUS
          Doomsday Soothsayer.
          His visions doth entertain
          Medieval profits.

CHINA
          Man's golden lotus.
          A wealth of divine knowledge.
          Heavenly on Earth.

FIREWORKS
           Our toast to Heaven.
           Chrysanthemums igniting
           The night's colbalt sky.

ORIGAMI
           The creases of us
           Tales of dragons and white ships.
           Neatly folded sheets.

BON VOYAGE
           Like wide sails that cup
           The high winds of this marriage,
           I'm at love's mercy...

OSMOSIS
          Blossoms in spring time.
          Bursts of Japanese kisses.
          How to love haiku.

HOMONCULUS
           Ultrasound preform
           Whose quickened heart is my own:
           A mandragora.

12 STEPS**
           Most Alcoholics
           Who drown in their own thirst know
           How deep "empty" hurts.
Anthracite
might burn well
but most will never know,
the fires in grates have all burnt low.
We're farming wind and waves,harnessing the nuclear reaction,sadly I find not one ounce of satisfaction in this,
I miss the welcoming glow of red hot flames and the toasting of marshmallows and everybody knows you can toast them on turbines.
I whinge and whine but I'll be fine as soon as I step into line with modern inconveniences.

I am informed by those who know,that the fish with two heads and the greenish glow has nothing to do with you know what and all we're really lacking is a ******* good dose of cracking fracking.
Terry Jordan Jan 2017
You pillage our planet for profit
While Fake Fox News snidely jokes
An Inconvenient Truth is made-up
Calling the science a hoax

Climate-denying allies in congress
Big Oil’s purchase-every one
Selling our children’s future for profit
No turning back once it’s done

Rip the last drop of oil from our Mother
Privatise all our Public Lands
Open all wild places to destruction
Blood money into so few hands

Deny all the earthquakes and forest fires
Damage from your chemical fracking
That secret formula legislated
Without a majority’s backing

For those who work to safeguard our planet
I support the Standing Rock Sioux
So many assaults our outrage must save
Bristol Bay-stop Pebble Mine, too
This feels like a work in progress, expressing my environmental worries.
sushii Sep 2019
as i walk upon this ground—
your ground,
i suddenly miss you,
my native brothers.

the oak trees twist and turn
signaling the return of my soul
and the loss of yours

on behalf of my kind, i truly apologize
we stole your land
and murdered you all

your statement was right—
no one can own the Earth.
we have tried,
and look where it brought us.

now we are burning up
at the expense of prosperity
and sacrificing longevity

native american blood
flows deeper, beyond fossil fuels
underneath the fracking
there’s truth buried somewhere

i can feel it, i definitely can
i wish i could scream to everyone,
“they were right!”

i wish i could scream to everyone
i wish i could bleed myself
to show them what we have lost...
to show them who you have lost.

native american blood
dries and coagulates accordingly
to our war rules

native american blood
flows no longer
stagnant in our marginalized hearts

native american truth
was our last hope
Butch Decatoria Sep 2021
Crackers Fracking barrels
Where family eats
Got diabetic farming gasoline
It’s a franchise made
To give disorders
The Web did not free all men
It’s global gone viral
World wide sky net
Complaining to the same mean machine
They will not listen
Crackers Fracking barrels
Don’t **** where
We sleep
When we close our eyes
What is seen inside
Inner void
Burnt
Black
Stuck on black
Not so easy
Sunday mornings (coming back)
Faceless nations' unreal politics
Scapegoat Real housewives
Mothers once, delovely days
The Parasols in the sun
The Spin-doctoring  of our lives

Crackers Fracking lungs
Deforestation asphyxiations
Marching drums...


World Peace Now !
NeroameeAlucard Jun 2016
You, know I've given this some thought
and these following words come straight out of my heart.

Entitled.

That's everyone's favorite word to describe everyone my age
They seem to look at us with disdain, and in some cases blatant rage
But I gave it a day to simmer over
And you know what?
We are entitled. All of us are.
We're entitled to a world we didn't Choke to death with coal, fracking, poisoned water and cars.
We're entitled to an age when you don't get arrested and incarcerated for token up with some friends and blazing, or for protecting our loved ones ending up behind bars

You're right, we're entitled to an Era when you don't have to carry debt to the grave to pay off a 4 year investment
And a world where we can love and live as who we want, without judgement,
Now, I know put of shape while you read or hear this you might get bent.

Entitled.

You're right, but not in the way that you think
Because you've thrown everything at us but the proverbial kitchen sink.
But we're still here, and not going away.
Call us entitled all you want, but we're taking that word back today.
A manifesto for the youth
brian mclaughlin Apr 2015
We think we know so much
yet we understand so little
the handful that do
seem to have the smallest voice
while the masses deny
the earth is being *****
there is little they will accept
warming comes
displayed in the strangest way
air thins
as carbon emissions thicken
fracking
depleting potable water
during days of drought
what will it take
a global flood
or a scorched earth
when will they listen
an awakening of the masses must come
before they are no more
One Andean Sky Aug 2021
At first, a tremor beneath the souls of my feet
Blink, a story millions of heartbeats away
Dark clouds over a field as acidic purge falls over us
Venomous mist seeps, humanity weeps
Blink, 18 stars bent and watching
Emitting rays pointing their random strikes

Blink, glorious earth temperate in her rotation
Marble folds on her maternal veil drapes us
Close to her breast, we heave in time with each breath
Blink, sustaining life in the chambers of her deepest ocean
Breathing air across the tall granite mountains
Distressed, and yet still here

Blink, ancient footprints track our journey
Not what we envisioned but “the enlightened ones” foresaw.
The need for understanding,
The need to cause conflict and agitate,
Blink, the need to protect,
The need to heal and mend.

Blink, you are here now, in your full extravagance
Delighting in fracking and disruption
Sleight of hand, our blindness is your reward
Blink, remorseless as you divide us
Along the fault line, we fall

Blink, with loved ones snatched
We turn on one another tossing
Handfuls of poison into the wind
Blink, triggered fingers pointed
Volcanic anger flares
A fist on a horses face
Lawlessness a momentary lapse

Blink, where will you strike next?
We suppress you
We support you
Following the artificial sun through the cracks
You rise again
As we turn on one another
The elusive phantom, a master chameleon
Spawning and stretching into an unknown vastness

Blink, yes, you are here to stay
You can’t be killed
You can’t be destroyed
Blink, neither can we
You will be tamed into submission
You will be a mere quiver beneath the souls of my feet
Blink, vitals diminish and you crawl away
Powerless and a mere symptom as you look out from a rock
Eye blinking.
Covid 19. Delta Variant. Sydney, Australia. Freedom Rally Riot 2021
world is changing fast the planet has gone mad
gone now as the world that we always had
its just  spinning round each day is getting faster
filling up the world with nothing but disaster

bringing in the floods to each and every shore
it has lost control not safe anymore
icebergs they are melting in the climate change
planets upside down acting very strange.

pollution in the air getting thicker everyday
fog is getting thicker taking breath away
people with there fracking make it matters worse
adding yet more trouble to mother natures curse

global warmings here and it wont go away
sunshine is fading fast all we see is grey
will it ever end we will never know
gone has the world we knew all those years ago
the world is not the same as used to be
pollution in the air from every industry
smoke from all  the cars drifting in to space
all the global warming destroying every place
fracking going on digging underground
disturbing all the ocean danger all around
the world is not the same as it  was before
its no longer safe to live in anymore
a whiff of green

promising to bring back
the god old coal mining jobs
drilling and fracking for oil
on federal land
loosening pollution standards

does not really jive
with sudden claims
to work for the purest air
and the best crystal clear water
of the whole world

yet another pathetic attempt
by a pathological liar
to make facts
fit his egomaniacal fictions

that whiff of fake green
does not smell good
Caidyn Dec 2017
I used to chase needles without thread
Perhaps lace, laced strongly and surely
No doilies for spoiling souls
My mouth an overflowing ashtray
Arms a fracking site deeply polluted

But today I had a taste of freedom
Not full liberation
But unrestraint in the chill of the night air
Immunity in the damp grass
Elbowroom in the dimmed night sky

My brains puppeteer must have taken lunch
Now that I’m not being dragged and pulled
In every which way at full strength
I hope he never comes back
This limpness leaves behind my limitations.
Julian Delia Aug 2019
Last July was the hottest month, ever.
That is, ever since we ‘officially’ started tracking weather.
The Earth is lying on the bathroom floor, wrists severed;
I wonder whether this is a storm we can weather,
Or whether we’ll all perish together.

Greenland lost 12.5 billion tonnes of ice sheets.
That is,
The island that was 80% ice is becoming one, giant, puddle.
The earth is about to be slain, a warrior conceding defeat;
Huddle up, give your loved ones a cuddle,
For we are so troubled that any aliens out there must be truly befuddled.

My generation was born with a guillotine looming over our heads.
An impending sense of dread,
As corporations put on their executioner’s hoods,
And reach for the lever.
A sordid reality in which to save the planet,
One must fight one’s own government;
A reality in which we may have done permanent damage,
A reality in which valour gets no monuments,
But only condemnation and incarceration.

Remember these names:

Julian Assange. Currently awaiting an 18-count indictment charge from the US.

Edward Snowden. Could face up to 30 years in prison if the US get their hands on him.

Chelsea Manning. Spent 7 years in prison.

Abdullah Öcalan. In prison since 1999.

Edem Bekirov. A man who has been dying in prison for the past year.

Benny Tai. Sentenced to over a year for fighting for what is right.

Nasser Zefzafi. In prison for the next 20 years.

Kerry Shakaboona Marshall. A man who received a life sentence aged 17 years old.

Simon Blevins, Richard Roberts, and Richard Loizou. Sentenced to over a year for fighting fracking.

Tim DeChristopher. 21 months for fighting oil and gas pipelines.

Stella Nyanzi. The raunchy Ugandan poetess who cannot be tamed, no matter how many times prison beckons.

This list is basically endless.
It is saturated in blood that drips from the corners of the page,
Soaked in the rage of brave men and women, living in a cage.

Depression. Exhaustion. Numbness.
Oppression and a lack of caution,
Leading us to this dumb mess.
This can no longer be the norm.
We can no longer conform,
Nor can we compromise or haggle;
We must reverse our own demise,
For this is our generation’s battle.
The pain of our extinction.
So busy tracking the tragedy.

I take my eyes off the screen in order to see that
they're even busier talking of fracking,
we know that the ice shelf is breaking away
cracking a bit more,
a bit more every day, but
they're busy tracking the tragedy and
have no time for me.

I googled the end of the world last night
but google just sent me
a link to
the tragedy.

If I fall off the end of the sea when
I'm fishing for haddock to have for my tea,
who will see me
fall
and if I call out in alarm
who'll lend a hand?

I stand and mention the tragedy
they all give me a hand when applauding me
I hope the good Lord's watching over me,
if not
then that would be
a tragedy.
Brent Kincaid Mar 2018
I went on to MySpace
And discovered I was snoring.
I moved on to Facebook
And found some were boring
But I found myself learning
Things I previously didn’t know
So maybe social media is
Not such a bad place to go.
Of course, we made Zuckerberg
A fracking multi-billionaire;
Richer than that clown in DC
With the orange face and hair.
But maybe that is Free Enterprise
The way it should always be;
The people that invent things
Can buy five thousand of me.

So, okay, Entrepreneurs, Inc.
I doff my hat at your energy
And your sense of adventure
And  most lucrative sensibility.
I’m sure if I had thought of it
I’d have done the same thing.
So here is your deserved applause
While you polish your brass ring.
I have no envy or rage for you
Because you have done so well
As long as a sense of privilege
Doesn’t drive us all to hell.
Sadly, that is what we see
Happening to the very rich.
They seem to indulge themselves
And leave the rest of us in a ditch.

So, Facebook has been good to me
And while I decry some of their stuff
A lot of the ******* I hear about it
Is quite obviously air-headed guff.
Yes, there’s a lot of data involved
And that will always be a threat
But, staying up on current news
Of things I have learned not to forget.
I watched the social changes, and
Heard from family and friends
As well as being warned of scams
And noticed styles and trends.
So, I won’t jump on Zuckerberg
And make like he is the very devil
When half of congress and DC
Are completely given over to evil.
I am every racial slur , homophobic
speech , shot fired in anger , every military
maneuver on a foreign beach
I am oblivious to hungry children ,  glued to
every word of the press , hardened to the plight
of the addicted , mocking each woman's precious gift
of unique identity , rollicking through the decay of
my fellow man , fracking , e-mailing , cell phoning ,
abhorring the mother breast feeding her child in public ,
robotically following my brethren , opposed to a Muslims religious freedom , the **** of needed history , automatic
weapons freely sold , schools out of control , computer
generated , typed in hate with no foreseeable end* ...
Copyright September 28 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
lelolel Dec 2017
Destruction of wildlife
Dark laws enforced
Don't frack with my life
And i won't frack with yours
Nat Lipstadt Sep 2019
Hineni, Hineni; I’m ready, my lord.”  
(For Evangeline Ruth Hope
)

<>

”Hineni is Hebrew for “here I am,” and is the response
Abraham gives when God calls on him
to sacrifice his son Isaac. It is also the name of a
prayer of preparation and humility, addressed to God”


<>

what you do not know
is that this word,
was spoken with a fist beating
a pin into the praying man’s chest

recited daily,
shades of hopeful, reverent resonance,
a shaded resolution, disguised as a quavering variable,
a statement, a questioning, an unsteady surety,
all of the above

this word, rooted in my genetic consciousness,
been ready repeated since my first whispering

was I ten years aged?

first time, full on bowing
on the synagogue floor, not fully understanding or
ready to confess my selfish need for forgiveness,
my forehead resting on my stubbed fingers resting on carpet,
worn thin by my predecessors ancestors,
who now comprehend more, but then, never enough

these same fingers, that write this collective,
                                  Hineni,
a word repeated oft, flavoring of the who
of who I am, a training in soul fracking from
early childhood, its import, powerful beyond
today’s identity revisionist empowering

let me plainly speak, in the original language
taught to me with that other tag along, English,
a lingua franca, a dialect that can never capture
a soul presenting himself in substantiated readiness

for the whatever exists in between
hallelujah and hineni, where the rubber soul
hits the road, stumbling on hands and knees
on a forest path of roots and soil, where sunlight breaks tween
branches, are road signs to look up, look down, look within

I know your name,
Evangeline Ruth Hope
analyzed its components,
cleverly constructed Greek and Hebrew rooted,
bearer of good tidings, following Ruth in, to hope,
you a Moabite in Mormon Utah, preparing
yourself for exposure, practicing humility
unceasingly seeking

good

that is how it should be

cannot translate well enough
what was this gift given to me
learning as a youth, a wanderer, tribal member
where beseeching is second nature,

and accepting personal responsibility fully cardinal,
fiddling prayers while standing unsteady on
the roofs of extreme shakiness

hineni is then but this:
a prideful admission of strength

ready ready ready, here I am,
completely unready for the unknown future foretold,

hineni I know

here I am,
ready or not,
find me so I can be found,
cease, help me cease, my foundering,
confident in my willingness to
find a way


netanel
9/12/19

— The End —