Your love song lapsed into ancient French that April day.
I only understood the words of spring and heartsore
lapsed. Only love and heartsore, I understood your ancient
words of the spring-day song into that French April.
You fabricate my pauses into repetition, silence speaks
of ages strung to rhyme in love’s difficult service
you strung into pauses in service to ages. Fabricate of
love’s repetition, rhyme speaks my difficult silence.
We practice tedium of vows till language breaks apart.
As if art should aim at science, rigorous, quantitative,
rigorous language breaks tedium. Science vows a part of
quantitative practice till we should aim “as if” at art.
Till we lapsed into language. As your ancient ages only
fabricate quantitative French strung to that difficult
practice, science speaks of tedium and understood rhyme.
The spring in service of love’s rigorous vows. April
pauses, heartsore. You and I, apart. If love should aim
my words at day, repetition breaks into silence of song.
Copyright © Taylor Graham | Year Posted 2006
I know that I have called this a sonnet, and I recognise that it falls short of such an esteemed form, but it is my first attempt, please forgive me.
in SUPPORT of GOOGLE'S SELF DRIVE CAR
a black tarmac warrior
a technology killing humanity worrier
plotting a course at one hundred kilometres an hour
his fatigued mind begins to wander
they want to take away his freedom
to replace his skills and wisdom
superseding his brain with one of silicon
technology supplanting humanity beyond his reason
Isaac and I Robot showed the way
when with technology protecting humanity we will rue the day
while his mind remains resolute, his car begins to sway
because humanity in control is the only way
then in his old age, his is the first generation
with no licence, but independent automated motion
Copyright © scott thirtyseven | Year Posted 2015
I’m tilling to forget that night
of fire and betrayal.
Turning the soil over, over and over,
over days months eons.
Waiting to be fed when belly
aches with hunger and thirst.
Did you have to poke out my eyes?
Make me remember silk?
I am a thousand fists shaken
in night sky. I am broken
on gravelly field, a puzzle,
my boiling blood walked off
left me skin stretched under hot sun
bleached bones poke out.
The others walked off in disgust
when you left us without.
Once our riverside hideout
let us launch our toy ships,
rode bubbles, slid over rock
churning fast and away...
The baby down pasted nest no
longer holds us inside,
too noisy, cramped in quiet spots
by sea, beg drown sorrow.
I’m tilling to forget, turn soil
over and over, hope to eat,
hope the fire that escaped our soil
hope it was just a dream.
Hope you didn't steal our resources,
steal all our heritage.
We have no future echoes loud
down the halls of lost time.
We did the tilling that launched you
into a tomorrow.
There you are, sailing free, happy.
We remain. Left behind.
Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper | Year Posted 2012
Green bark a prism creates,
Feel the pull of earth, you must.
Rotates, a slime of endless hates,
Can hold me not, this world’s crust.
Friendship’s ties, isolation Deflates,
Succumbs, my spaceship, to bitter rust.
Mist, my soul forever permeates,
Lift-off, booms the rocket’s thrust.
My spirit when light returns, elates,
Swamps swell, swallowed hope’s swirling dust.
Trapped, I am, until student from fate
Arrives to learn; Cloud City or bust.
Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013
Step out with me,
if you would be so kind,
on my melting island of ice.
Full-heated summer sun
feels good on our backs and shoulders
and faces turned down and in to hunt,
We start this day with gratitude
for warmth of light and life.
Empathize with polar bears,
or try to.
Not merely sympathize;
step onto their/our natural icy place and time,
noticing ways bears bare our own lack of global justice
and for ourselves.
we fear human rights and justice
are not ecojustice enough
to sustain optimized and inclusive life
and Continuous Quality Improvement investments
with minimized risk of loss.
We feel like we live on a shrinking island
of hopelessly competitive despair.
We feel climatic heat melting our angry and fearful interior
and exterior landscapes of nutritional potential.
We fear drowning in an understory
of melted cooperative permacultural boundary waters
of natural systemic immersion,
swimming in an icy northern sea
of metamorphic submersion.
We hunger for a lost hunting paradise
of cooperatively synergetic vitality.
We feel homeless unto a catastrophic miraculous death.
Death dreams in constellations of encultured space,
dynamic time invested in frequencies of place,
Life is what we absorb each day,
divest of each night.
Time is what regenerates future
and decomposes past.
Economic balance is found in nutrients we produce,
not just lost toxins we consume.
Eco-logic ratios and rations
portions and proportions
entify and give and dispossess
rectify and take and coredeem
plants and harvests
winnows and composts
thins and nurtures
blames and praises
stimulates and responds
causes and effects and affects and infects and defects and reflects
dislikes and values
lives and decays
orders and confuses
confluates and dissonates
frowns down upon and within and smiles up and without
curses and blesses.
Would it not be good to balance justice
so everything adds up without remainder
double-bound smooth-structured perfection,
mutually justified margins
balancing all sides of any story and issue,
correctly aligned judgment,
a logically normative standard,
a natural law
inclusive of all Earth's living, breathing values and nutrients,
and elusive of all EarthTribal pathologies
and wilting economies,
summer seared deserts
as polar bares?
Our ecotherapy calls for more cooperative gardens
and revolving rhyming analogical norms
for economic behavior,
Golden practice of co-gravitating intent
emerging from ancient threads of transmillennial loss.
Post-Taoist multisystemic analysis
of Nature Balancing Time's Right
to struggle and suffer
regenerating our metamorphic root co-operative system
of, for, and by Time's Equi-Valent Justice,
in four primally dipolar/bipolar fractal dimensions,
to site our most regenerative example
found in each neurally lost transpositional cell.
to our melting ice home,
did we find this ecojustice,
or did RNA find and intelligently polymorph us,
or both somehow?
Only eternally remembered time's unfolding
will tell upon refolding loss.
Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015
I do not know?
(This is a fictional poem)
I went to bed last night and I had a strange dream.
It was amazing how real it seemed.
In the dream my limbs were cut off by a lightsaber.
Then my body got badly burned and I became Darth Vader.
I was dressed in black and I had the mask and cape.
I got robot limbs and I was evil and consumed by hate.
The good guys tried to shoot me but I deflected the shots from their guns.
By the end of the dream, the dark side won.
When I woke up, I was glad.
I couldn't believe the dream that I had.
In the dream I left many people dead.
That's the last time I'll watch Star Wars right before I go to bed.
Copyright © randy johnson | Year Posted 2006
Look upon city once known by name,
ruins that I called home, streets swallowed by flame,
in time alive shell not witness less of what should you understand,
reach on to hand of a stranger, scroll remain;
in signs that might be changing welcome,
different of a man.
When dawn awakes and there is no light,
upon dusk of man darkness will be spread by sight,
in time not different change will arise, life we thought you knew,
death would recognize.
Hearts will bound to King without a Crown,
why do mothers shed tears, echo rooted in the ground,
is there reason of a foolish wars, contracts written in blood,
new born babies died breathless, can't even appreciate the Sun,
don't deserve to live, not worth of the land,
existence will be scattered in ashes,
you will be remembered
Copyright © Miche Ulman | Year Posted 2013
Tectonic plates shift
Copyright © Joseph Spence Sr | Year Posted 2006
My tusks are sharp, like a warrior's spear.
I see clearly and only feel one thing, fear.
Frozen deep in this field of flattened glass,
I had to watch my unfulfilled dreams pass.
I have always known the snow covered land
that now morphs and changes behind my own,
Innocent eyes. But a weight of a stone,
that can crush an entire army; then I remain alone.
I feel cold, my spirit sold,
lurking beyond me, rotten and old.
Out of reach, with so much to teach,
jerking to become free, begging for speech,
my young ones, my family shadows,
trapped behind a glacier of gallows,
The temporary apocalypse of merciless ice.
I wish I had warned them.
Copyright © Caroline Youngless | Year Posted 2012
When the war of worlds' was done
And the Colonists owned the sun,
The old miner from Sirius One
Gleaned the galaxy for his son.
He sought the brave boy he knew
He'd disowned in four thousand & two.
Though the surviving rebels were few,
he had word of his boy's crew.
Hurrying to the caverns of Lithmulu,
A prodigal father faced a boy in blue,
But it was too late his dream to realise,
For a parasite looked out of the wild eyes.
Copyright © Cecelia Hopkins-Drewer | Year Posted 2017
When his truck met
with nature so pure,
Did he know his time
was coming to an end?
Basic elements of life
taught each day
not to think twice.
Giving humans oxygen,
yet encouraging a raging fire,
just ordinary trees.
Did he know they would
cut his time short?
A cremation vault so sacred
destroys our lives.
It put him in a vase
rather than a box.
Does he know now
that he has come
to an end?
Copyright © Caroline Youngless | Year Posted 2012
Summer’s Spilled Milk
City dwellers pumped;
Oil effused into ocean,
Ocean creatures died.
Copyright © Marie Harrison | Year Posted 2010
My home state loses a football field,
Of coastal land each day of the year.
I’m no cheerleader about this,
It fills my heart with fear.
I wish I had funds to donate to the cause.
Maybe if I expressed my thoughts of the situation,
It would cause others to pause.
As the pelicans swim to the beat,
Of their inward drum,
And contribute to the state,
That many other states of the union,
Were carved from.
Way back before humans existed,
Our dear state Louisiana was merely sea floor.
If we humans that exist today,
Don’t get serious about this erosion problem,
The state where jazz was born,
Will be sea floor once more.
Our coastal industries, beautiful magnolia trees,
And the capital of the Old South,
Will no longer exist.
We won’t be able to reminisce about anything,
If our hindrance persists.
Like bacteria attacks a cell,
Our precious land is being attacked as well.
Like our educated out migrants,
Land is leaving without being replaced.
Saving this land helps us ecologically:
This includes the human race.
Please fellow residents and people who once,
Or never lived here before.
Fill Louisiana’s heart with cheer,
By contributing to this worthy cause.
If one can’t give monetarily,
He or she should then take a pause.
Be creative and think of other ways,
That one is able to help this wonderful state.
We would certainly appreciate anything you do,
To help us out.
I know the pain of the land will be eased,
Without a doubt.
Our state has faith in us as we have faith in it.
Let us not only be cheerleaders, but star players.
So that our precious land can stay strong,
Throughout its layers.
This erosion problem can be very costly:
Climatic changes, loss of land, animal and plant species,
And human lives are just a few.
Please help save our wetlands,
Because it is part of the old and of the new.
Wrote November 2003 almost exactly 2 years before Hurricane Katrina,
while student @ ULM and concerned about the issue, as a student and scientist the topic of
New Orleans going under and the Mississippi River flow and creation of Louisiana was talked
about since I was in elementary school in the mid '80s was a main topic of concern for the
gubernatorial election held that year, and during that political official's term as governor,
Hurrican Katrina hit, Louisiana politics I tell you- they simply tell people what they want to
Copyright © Nicole Sharon Brown | Year Posted 2009
beneath this iron maiden
lies three wooden crosses
such tragedy comes to those
with their life losses
fourteen fifteen and sixteen
even in the backseat a beauty queen
mother told them not to go
father told them to take it slow
waving goodbye off they went
riding on tires with a wheel thats bent
out comes the beer and the weed
being such fools tossing around the seeds
ran a stop sign just up the road
got smashed by a trucker hauling a load
spun the car into a lamp post
now three bodies linger around as ghost
but the beauty queen did survive
by wearing her seatbelt and thanks god shes alive
Please Talk To Your Kids
Drinking And Driving Dont' Mix
And Alway's Remember That Seatbelt
Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2009
Silken skies surround
Secure sailing sloop
Skimming Sargasso sea
Seeking salmon, sturgeon,
Several savory species.
Suddenly stampeding storm
Surrounded, struck swiftly
Skies striking, slashing,
Savage surly seas.
Skipper sighted shoals,
Slammed, sending seamen
Swaying, scrambling, scurrying.
Swift southerly swells,
Sending struggling schooner
Smashed somewhere sandy shores.
Seamen survived swimming,
Suddenly savage screams,
Strange sensations, sounds
Seldom saw such sights,
Surrounding sassy Sasquatch.
Savagely slashed sailor,
Satisfyingly strange supper
Sasquatch slurping sailor soup,
Savory sauce, stew.
Copyright © James Gibbons | Year Posted 2010
Our ecosystem and wildlife can no longer be ignored
The devastation caused by the Gulf oil spill must vastly be restored
As anger and frustration surges across the Coast
The depletion of our environment, indeed we fear the most
Several past months, many lives have been erased
In the midst of these disasters, we can only look to faith
Now let us pay a visit to some underlying factors
Volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, and other natural disasters
It was not in their intention for a high tech failed invention
Yell still they don't take into account the consequences of their actions
Efforts to contain this oil spill is more doltish than we have known
What more massive debacles can this single Earth condone?
Many local residents are now suffering from depressions
So think about what lies ahead, our future generations
Copyright © Rashana King | Year Posted 2010
I saw a tree like a mushroom blooming
Producing awesome power
An infertile wasteland
Written by: Brenda V Northeast
March 12, 2012
Copyright © Brenda Victoria Northeast | Year Posted 2012
You have unfailingly demonstrated your love
every law supporting our galaxy
is so harmonious that this
little blue paradise could not exist
every thread and movement
so precise we can measure
its movements right down to atomic levels
All so this small space
could provide everything anyone
who had any appreciation
might understand that we have
been provided abundantly every delight
in the way of plans for a Utopia
Yet the movements of every ruling body
of science religions governments corporations
seem bent on destruction
tampering with the finesse of precision
incorporated in the molecules of life
Continuous self reproduction and regeneration in nature
right down to making "seeds who self destruct"
to make nature exactly as themselves
I divorce publicly these unions of violence
demonstrated in their every thought and deed
poisonous words poisonous chemicals
totalitarian ideology pandemic to
the leaders of these factions
warring with each other hoarding the
wealth of a planet given freely to
the father of our species
And if you don't believe that
then think nature gave it freely
of her every fruit produced by her ground
YOU WARRING FOOLS
who delight in the peril and fall
of your own family
who know not nor recognize
your own worth or the worth
of everything and everyone around you
No , but you fall at the feet
admiringly of all these mongrels
the media who worship
these fine movers and shakers
who roll right over you and think
you should be trained groupies
these men who kill your planet
with ideologies and philosophies
whose very design is to denigrate
your worth and exalt themselves
Therefore I will exalt in your instruction
the progenitor of life for as surly
as we examine the work of life
we are moved by its abundant wealth
freely shared with all who live on this little rock
to examine why we all are unable
to fluently live within its confines
I think I will not walk off the cliff today
gravity is my friend if I know her rules
COPYRIGHT © 2012 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Copyright © Poetryof Providence | Year Posted 2012
as we face the end of the music,
faced with mistaken thrills.
as teh agenda of a destiny unfolds;
better left to be untold,
about the aftermath trauma,
livelihood in the hood drama.
situations that are just not scenery;
sweat of blood with every tear,
packs a punch with every tear,
full of weariness,
not to mention teardrop mixed with blood.
not even novacane can stop the hurt of the clot;
missing the thrill of the aftermath showdown,
missing pieces of morality not shown.
like beating down the edge of a clef note,
rare but possible to do.
unworthy throw down faced with a mistake,
with unknown meaning of teardrop blood is at's stake.
unfulfilled unworthy desire pass you by,
self eanial worthy,
Copyright © Donn Ronquillo | Year Posted 2013
I do not know?
The way earth was born
a loud big bang .
The wind blew
and the leaves sang.
And thus the growth of life started
a cycle very much repeated.
And then they arrived
creatures with two legs and pride .
Humans as they came to be called
destroyed everything even the forest
that blocked their stride
to enjoye their life to the fullest.
They remade matter
in an open cloud vomiting structure.
These nasty clouds used to scatter
here , there and everywhere
killing the fine green threads of the soil
and their breathing material –the air.
earth lost patience and grew red with rage
the most disastrous stage .
Violent volcanoes earth quakes and what not.
They had to face the wrath
the consequence of their chosen path.
Then skitter asked his alien mother
so did it fall in a pit
or join the dead in the pyre
the mass of soil and water
earth as how they called it.
She replied with wonder-
son,everything born has to end
it is the debt they have pay to the creator.
Copyright © kavya sudhir | Year Posted 2012
I do not know?
i have seen the coming of a great social change
and do believe in my case it means no passing
to a free and health interchange of life's greater moments (not exchange)
this is about, the enslavement of my life
that is based on the the extra freedom of others
so i do scream
in my shy small voice
"I am in slaved in America"
and i am ashamed
and i am dirty under the light
I have seen that enslavement in America
and it, is but a pen and paper of mind indicting lies (not induction)
and smile of the upper class, that have dreams of glory
that are hidden by an exchange of networks
by which agent play under no supervision
playing psycho mind controlling games
on the weak and poor
and will and do punishment me
and yet i am still frighten and small
necked in the wet rain of tear and Ritualistic Abuse
under this insane cry,
you will not see me
you can not hear me
for how can you here a kitten trapped
a thousand miles away
alone in a dark room
striped of its ability to fight back
with out the proper words to make you understand
I have been framed
i have been systematically Hypnotize
this is a rape to my soul
please see past the fake paper work
and look deeper
and find the cover-up
clean up and swept-out your house
that holds the deeds of yesterday
Copyright © verlecia fields | Year Posted 2010
I do not know?
Man to blame,
Once again to his shame,
His record continues to destroy !
The beauty he did not create, nor can he save…
He will never learn how to properly behave…
Nature screams pointlessly once again ?
Fearing where next we’ll drill ?
Gulf oil spill.
Copyright © William Arthur Tell | Year Posted 2010
I do not know?
the poet's pen
shades my eyes
stabs deep rivers
into morning sun
rivers of light
pouring down my back
Mercurian mind is tricked by
hands that draw the bow
the arrow poisoned
and dipped in time
flying towards an earthen bowl
everything is turned inward
and no one sees the comedy
inherent in its tragedy
spider spit dimensions
stick like glue
my snow white hair hurling in space
the clock strikes nine twenty-two
and soon is gone
another door opens
another day ends
Copyright © Anna Ruiz | Year Posted 2011
Am I nothing more
Than an ominous date
A wisp of genetic wonder
A curse of conscious fate
Behold the burden
Nestled in newborn hair
Innocent eyes etched
Into life's coarse lair
Is there nothing more
Than this tactile plight
Torn tears of birth’s bliss
My fingers weep sight
Is she nothing more
Than death’s deciduous seed
Baptized by superstition
Comfort’s posthumous need
Who will hold her
When my embers grow cold
The walls of winter creep closer
And the silence grows bold
What have I done
This curse that I share
Too buried to breathe
Too naked to bare
How can I tell her
Forever stalks our door
That there is no tomorrow
For life is nothing more
Copyright © Xavier Keough | Year Posted 2008
Throw all your roses in the air,
For there is no need of love in this lair
Corpses laugh and spin
Spirits run and play,
Under silver ash shadow
Magical sparks fill you here,
Luring into Sitra Achra
Crypt of the Ancient Rosalinean,
Majlis al Jinn
Lilith’s dance seducing your inner core
Nehema’s whispers throwing yourself off the shore,
You hope this is only folklore,
But you must not fear the dark
The Nightmare of the Lost Ark
Silents winds whisper
Untold truths of revelation
to Give you new Trust In Adoration
Asphyxiate with Fear
As Angelique's eyes Lear
Silently you’ll the feel the spirits
Of The Howling growing near
The Draconian Aeon is here
All foul humans beware
Samael will always be Near
Copyright © Wyatt Loethen | Year Posted 2012
Hell freezes over. Fire into ice.
Ice…but without the chill, the cold.
I try to rethink how this happened.
How a world so green, so vibrant, become hell.
And now a pale white wasteland.
Agony to relief. A relief that can’t possibly last.
Impossibilities. A dream. Numbness.
As I emerge from my shelter, built to withstand dry heat, not cool precipitation.
I wonder at the beauty of this new and strange world.
The scorching I’ve received, now soothed by the cooler air.
Miniscule crystals, floating slowly to the earth, sticking to my hair.
Like dust. Not cold.
I see others as well, marveling at this white world,
revealing themselves to be inadequately clothed for this overnight change.
I hear a child’s laughter, excited screams as she experiences the cold for the first time.
I turn to watch, a smile on my face.
There in the white, brash scarlet stains the pureness.
The girl’s excitement turns to anguish.
She clutches her head, letting out a piercing cry.
Before my eyes, she transforms.
Her arms, becoming broken and lengthy, ending in tentacles.
Her face, distorted beyond recognition.
More cries, bawling, hammering of fists.
All around me, those whom I’ve grown up with become unrecognizable.
Their skin becomes a sickly green beige, the colour of vomit.
Suddenly everything stops. Silence…
Copyright © Zach Nathan | Year Posted 2012
A knife digs into my leg.
I look down and see my leg turning the same colour as the other’s skin.
Rotting, putrid flesh, spreading its disease up my thigh.
Pain arcs across my chest, spilling into my neck.
My hands, they’re becoming tentacles as well.
I can feel my bones shattering, slicing through my skin.
A flash of pain, and I’m on my knees.
My head is splitting from the pain. I can’t even think.
What’s my name?
Where am I?
I hear a hoarse voice in the back of my mind.
Give in. Let go. Now.
Unfortunately I don’t have a choice. My mind, it feels crowded.
Something is in my mind.
“GET IT OUT! GET IT OUT OF MY HEAD!” I scream, deafening myself.
A blood red is creeping across my vision, clouding my view.
More piercing pain, I can feel my back snapping.
I topple over to my side. My body is convulsing uncontrollably.
Finally, the pain gets the best of me. I can’t take it any longer.
The pressure in my head, consuming my being.
I attempt one last bravado.
I cling to one memory.
The memory of the girl.
But soon even she is corrupted.
The voice, calling to me. Tempting me. Strangling my mind.
Then, just before I black out, I hear her voice.
Come play with the me. Join us.
The sickly sweet, echoing charm of her morphs into a deep, throaty rumble.
Join me in the grave.
I am the Gravemind.
Copyright © Zach Nathan | Year Posted 2012
Introduction: Even if you're tied to barely holding on, your control over will power shall pull you up towards the truth and success. But only if you believe up to all, that it's stronger than what you could be - that's when you balance the fall...
You may get old
Your memories may drown,
But your soul won't get cold
And beliefs won't breakdown.
Just don't you let go
As you never know,
Things you seek for all your years
They could be in your back yard.
Find the truth within the lies,
Fight your pride to end this cry,
Trust your soul; open the door
Balance yourself and roll the stones.
The one's you heart will always stay
So don't throw life out your doorway,
Life's too short and it's too real
Sometimes it's hard to see and feel
That's how you live a life,
The risk that breaks you down to bits
Saves and brings you back alive,
That's what we call the gift of life.
No matter how rough things might get
We get rewards for the risks we take,
No matter how hard or sad
Learn and value what you have.
Though, too much pride will leave you dried
Don't let 'hopeless', be your life's stride,
None of this will you take to grave,
Your deeds will lay, only your pave.
As you breathe in and do breathe out,
Make each one profound
And stand your ground,
As lies are just the fantasy,
The truth - is your ecstasy
And this will forever be plain to see...
Copyright © Aqeb Be-Nazir Ibn Minar | Year Posted 2011
...our lobster killers
BP's oil spill destroying
ocean, tap water
Copyright © Marie Harrison | Year Posted 2010
I paused on the landing of the wooden Victorian staircase, pondering whether to pick my
way back up the portal between the worlds of the living and the dead. In my previous
ascension, I found myself frequently looking over my shoulder sensing a demon bent on
crossover from its imprisonment using my body as a vessel. I swallowed my fear, found my
resolve, and cautiously stepped onto the first of the rickety steps. My heart beat once, in
what seemed like forever, every drop of blood being squeezed through at once. I strained
my ears to listen for the echoed step of my invisible intruder. I was greeted only with a
silence so thick if felt as if it were a substance pushing me back to the safety of the realm in
which I was meant to reside. I would not relinquish my resolve however, so I continued on
with my suicidal mission to the pinnacle of the never ending staircase. Again I stepped
forward and again my heart welcomed to entire contents of my body into its chambers in a
singe pump. I waned, waiting for the echo of the creaking wood, made so over a lifetime of
abuse from the decaying buildings wraith like residence. My ears detected eternal
This is copyrighted material. All rights are reserved. Reprints must be requested in writing to
the original author. © Alisha Groves
Copyright © Alisha Groves | Year Posted 2009