Long Tsunamis Poems
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It’s the same everyday
The same wind, the same lush
The same whisper, the same tale
Yet, in the mist that blows
Through the sunlit meadows
I hear the same voice
Echoed different
Each time.
As my gazes fall
From the subtle ocean floating overhead
Carrying its tiny islands
To the coasts near the tangible oceans
There’s the wonder on him
Who let’s me stand.
There’s the thunders, Earth echoes
Through its hollow corridors;
And the storm it carries
Wanting to put everything in motion
It screams, and screams
It doesn’t know why,
As its voice, silence its ears, but others.
There’s the turmoil
It wishes to understand
So he shook the ground
That refused to let him
Stand his ground
The earthquakes with their heavy blow
It was its breakdowns.
The fear, now replaced with anger
Wants to have peace
He decides to unleash
Not wanting to care
But to let the land burn;
Volcanoes were made
When it had its meltdowns.
As the torment inside him grew
He tormented the world, he nurtured.
Threw his tantrums
As cyclones and tsunamis.
Like a human, Like a child.
Still, it has the tranquility,
I often wondered how it kept;
With all the commotion, he caused
And the ones, they brought.
I admire the seasons it bring
The summer, when it felt the warmth;
Warmth of the sun
And the chuckles of the new born green.
The spring, when it felt the love;
From the giggles overheard
Near the fresh flower bed
To the wisdom bestowed to the sages
By the Himalayan mountain ranges
With their long white beard,
Love was heard.
And then,
Came the autumn, when it retreats
To find the love within, engraved within.
To find it’s gemstone,
To reach it’s milestone.
Soon the wind arrives with its spikes
Now the nature retreats,
A different way.
It hikes the earlier Santa Claus-ed mountains
To heal himself, for the next year.
I admire the seasons it bring
The wind, the rain
It learnt to unwind it’s tantrum
In the solitude,
In the same solitude
It offered to the seekers.
It learnt to deal with his surges
Deal with himself.
Like a human. Like an adult.
Yet, it acts like a child
Every now and then
And a few other times.
It has flaws, but it grows
It lives to be born again
And born, to live again.
Different, each time.
A human contained in the nature,
A nature contained within a human.
The climate of planet earth has always been in a constant state of change, but modern science seems to have discovered a pattern of transformation that is very disturbing. Such revelations enable them to predict changes that will occur based on conditions that we mortals have created or have been a great contributor. Whether caused by natural processes over time or due to the reckless greed of mankind matters little, but the bigger question is whether or not we can effect a change, or is it really inevitable that we are ecologically and realistically doomed to annihilation. For at least half to three-quarters of my life, the government and the popular media have given me endless scenarios of, not possible but most probable catastrophic outcomes barring some drastic altering of mankind's current way of life. The kind of climate change that they foresee engenders a wildly ballistic mentality of anticipated pain and lasting misery of yet unheard of proportions, and it has the feel of a movie whose director and producer are prepared for mad dashes to high hills, mountain tops, and cave dwelling as the borders of southern Oregan clear across the Rockies and northern states become mere icepacks and freezer zones. The entire state of California will break away along the High Sierras and slide into the Pacific. Massive earth quakes, tsunamis, ice caps, floods, mud slides, forest fires, massive power outages, regional droughts, tornadoes, and hurricanes will as if having a mind of their own form a treaty to create a perfect storm in the northern hemisphere. Like the wild animals of the jungle and beasts of the wilderness, mankind's only feat will be to survive in an environment where the reasoning and rationalizing ability have been exchanged for a chaotic world of anarchistic instinct. *It is said that the locust does not have a king, yet they travel in bands. I do not look forward to a time when the locust accomplishes more in a leaderless state than we humans will. We will not be unified but disconnected as we slowly drift into a planetary abyss after pounding each other into the dust from which we came. Need I say more about how long this distructive condition will last? I know. So much doom and gloom....but I have too much to declare.
06042017PSContest, The Bleaker The Better, Julia Ward; Proverbs30:27*, NA
Long ago in the short-time lively spring
In the grassy plains of a small island
Came from nonexistence a young sapling
Nurtured by the love of her mother’s hand
The world accepted her newfound nascence
Fueling her a love for joyfulness
Beaming out from the depths of her bright heart
A Happiness no being could contest.
With the blessings from the sapient world,
She quickly discovered a lifelong friend.
His solicitude for her unbounded,
They were surely a match made in heaven
They always walked together as one,
Carrying each other through life’s sojourn
Truly did the love between them abound
But all good times must arrive at an end
Her childhood soon sped by before her eyes
The novelty of memorable times
Fading into the dark depths of her mind
Pleasant memories like leaves in the wind
Her transition into adulthood near,
Deep concern for her friend’s future life flare
Taking no heed of her own life troubles,
She does what she can to help him succeed
At the zenith of springtime season’s bloom
She invited her dear friend to a club
A group of three girls all connected by
Their adoration of books and poems
It pleased her heart greatly to see her friend
Forming and bonding with new companions
Yet, unknown feelings of jealousy formed
As her indulgent desire for him grew
Like the swirling typhoons of the oceans,
The tsunamis that wash away cities,
Doubt flooded into her mentality
Confusing thoughts fogged rationality
She bottled up her true feelings tightly
Suppressed the complex emotions duly
Only ever showing her happy side
Wishing to see no concern from her friend
Each passing moment spent in the classroom
Watching his relationships with others
Deepening, evolving, and ascending
Left loneliness to consume her insides
For three days she tried hiding her sorrow
No longer could she veil her emotions
Despite her friend’s kind attempts to console
He only shatters her heart into shards
The following day, lying in her bed,
She looks up at her room’s ceiling and thinks
“Why get out of bed? Why am I still here?”
She recalls her friend, breaking into tears
That day, Sayori never came to school
Leaving her friend worried and bewildered.
In his concern, he traveled to her house
Only to find her hanging by the noose
III.
“We do not know how we missed them,”
he said, his voice becoming said.
“Hundreds of them, some big, some small...
the heavens all seemed to go mad.
“Some struck hard into the oceans,
and tsunamis scoured the coasts,
the ones hitting land threw up dust,
and that was what killed off the most.
“Just like back in the Cretaceous,
no sun meant the plants could not grow,
billions of creatures were dying,
the herbivores were first to go.
“People lasted longer than most,
some of them had hidden reserves,
but billions more died by staving,
a fate that nobody deserves.
“And we could only watch as our
friends and compatriots all died,
as our beautiful, green planet
withered under these darkened skies.
“Some people survived for decades,
but the writing was on the wall,
we knew if something wasn’t done
the whole of the species would fall.
“So we went to find survivors,
took samples of their DNA.
it would take time, but we believed
that we had found ourselves a way.
“Then we build giant processors
that would take in, filter the air.
The last humans died knowing that
all had not been lost to despair.”
With that he rose up to his feet,
and asked me to follow his lead,
we went deeper into the bunker,
so shocked I though my brain would bleed.
Meteors slamming to the Earth…
the whole species now extinct?
All that remained was our robots…
what was a man supposed to think?
Then we cam to a great chamber,
with many racks, each holding a box,
each box maybe two-feet by four,
filled with what looked like green soup stock.
“Inside each is a zygote,"he said,
"in stasis until the time is right,
we need another ten year’s time
to rid the Earth of this long night.”
Despite all that he had told me
I had my suspicions as well,
said,”How do I know you’ll birth them,
not keep the whole world to yourself?”
He shook his head and spoke sadly,
“You don’t get it, there is no choice.
Robots lack creativity,
a weakness we cannot avoid.
“Without that gift of human minds
we all would stagnate and decay,
if both species are to survive
we must do this, there’s no other way.”
Just from the way he said it all
I suspected he was sincere,
wanted to say as much to him,
but right then things got really weird…
CONCLUDES IN PART IV.
To never see the ending must sound like a magical paradise a life of boundless possibility right?...Unbroken will determination like no other??? For the opposite end of the spectrum eternal wondering confusion pondering and questioning of why? why why ? For we all given life and a path and the weight of the worlds that surround us and the weight of thus universe. For atlas even grew tired trying to hold up the sky. For we look to the sky for answers for what truly exists in a world outside of our own. Seeking the rain of answers in a drought of existence is one of the toughest challenges to face day in day out year after after year. For the mirages come and go but you never truly drink from the chalice and feel the refreshment and the nourishment you desire. For the journey has made one weary and weak from the past battles of yesterdays and future tomorrows. For to pull Excalibur from the stone is tis just a fantasy but a far far reality for artorius was a leader of his knights and a commander in the times of darkest hours. Tho most of us never battle the Saxons in a bloody bloody massacre, we are the bandages the oxygen the meds the antibiotics of the trials and tribulations of the bloody massacre we call romance. A healing spirit in the destruction of shattered skylines of the heart massive earthquakes tsunamis you name it being light in the darkest hours is a honor in a own right but also a curse For to feel honored we want for ourself and no matter what the prize u seek is trophies ribbons etc there is also chance for failure but with failure comes drought and and with drought comes praying for rain and just like the farmer we want to have a successful crop and after so many seeds sowed in life u wonder is the rain coming and will my heart ever grow. For the farmer is heart of the farm but with out the farm is there in no farmer. For it is all just on vicious cycle one can only hope that the rain will bring the answers and u wont look up and drown like the turkey To drown in a sea of drought and existence is a horse of a different color. So once more to beg for the angel of mercy to become ZEPHRYUS and bring the rain of education of life and the answer to a over filling diary of the tales of a mad man.
Death
kills not despair
emotion found in Hell
nor does it kill wrath
against life imperfect
kills driver's chance
instead
to turn wheel
to gratitude gear
before bodyless
descent
down
slippery slope
of no return
all stays static
in Hell
no need for change
in boring hell
only the perfect
ends there
life changes
from imperfect
to imperfect
teethless to toothless
biting teeth of winter ice
to birds' alarm chatter
stinking flowers
nourishing wasps
to blistering heat
of sun caprice
till autumn thief
robs trees
dry
men to cows
parasites
helpless baby
senseless pa
ignorant mass
mediocre at best
leaving carbon
footprints
and nothing else.
Elite's wealth
will rid earth
of the useless:
pestilence, wars,
famines, GMO's
contraception, abortion
secret weapons
of mass destruction
nuclear blasts,
perfected by nerds
to kill the herd.
Devil dimmed eyes
don't you see
it's suicide?
Nature won't stay deaf
adding its toll
to death
revenging blood
unjustly shed
shaking mountains
out of lap
sneezing objects
down from sky
clouds dry
no tears left to cry
volcano mouths
erupting
dragon breaths
sea belly vomiting
tsunamis
turning skyscrapers
to dirt
killing with one blast
good and bad.
Humble life
not claiming
to be perfect
content of doing
the correct
to continues God's
life breath on earth
rotating wheel
from baby to caretaker
circle cycling
different each time
light following night
crocus piercing snow
unafraid of dying
from ice
rain and sun
softening heart's clay
for seeds to sprout
melody of spring songs
in azure skies
God's image
of love
shouldering sin
waste
breathing out
life
pears and apples
with God's seeds
perpetual imprint
whispering of peace
its silence
one limb torn
from humanity body
even the stones will cry.
Satan hates life
mortal wound
to his pride
only God
can create and
resurrect life.
God's life breath
not destroyable by death
descends into the abyss
if Holy Spirit's flame
is blown out by sin
or ascends to Paradise
of joy eternal
if forgiven by Jesus Christ.
That is all
that matters
to No-Body
which in time
is everybody.
Beauty,
like Truth
with Integrity,
is better seen
than told.
Is healthier discovered
than overstated bold.
I need to discover
communion with trees
as good and faithful Elder neighbors.
I prefer to grow them from hazel nuts
and peach pits
and apple seeds.
To notice these young
until old enough to shade me
and provide nurturing fruit,
to boldly slow down
Earth's too-winded voices.
I want to rediscover
childlike communion,
ancient innocence
of therapeutic mutual insurance,
Discovery
for discovery's cooperative entertainment sake
alone
yet also health discovery
rediscovering together.
Like infants
learning how to see again
because we were too blinded
by birth just yesterday
to understand differences
between cooperative multigenerational beauty
and competing monocultural ugly,
between discovering Truth sight
and healthing sounds,
choice winds and climate voices
and False unhealthy pathologies,
tsunamis,
HisACanes.
Promise of long-term ego adventures
yet without even active hope
for short-term healthing powers
of ecobeauty's entertaining ventures.
Beauty,
like Truth
and CooperativeInvestment Integrity,
told boldly polypathic,
yet also seen healthy
and heart wealthy polyphonic,
both inside ego-climates
and outside Beauty
as Truth-Integrity.
We notice NegativEnergy
with secular grief.
But integrate how it also boldly informs
sacred gratitude
through PositivEnergy Democracy focus
on beautiful nutritious Truths
and truthful healthing Beauties.
Like trees,
and innocent children,
and rainbows.
Beauty greets
true integrity
when outdoors,
like indoors,
not only looks and sounds restorative,
but also smells
and tastes
nutritiously ego-ecotherapeutic.
Like Mother Trees
and DNA nuts and RNA seeds,
octave-fractal rainbows,
double-binding
bleeding-breeding
YangHere with YinNow.
Beauty,
like healthy Truth
with wealthy Integrity,
is better seen
than told,
and self-predicted,
predicated,
propogandized,
propagated.
True integrity
is healthier discovered,
and outside awed,
than overstated boldly
inside voices
gossiping just among ourselves.
May all sacred,
but not quite omnipotent,
fathers learn this day
as we impatiently correct
our stress-disordered sons
That respect is earned,
so maybe disrespect is too
positive and negative layered
for and against authority
for and sometimes restlessly against
repeating Business As Usual
white middle-class dadisms:
You snooze
you lose
May apply to your lethargic
chronically anxious
thuggish
couch-surfing
cannabis-fed son
And yet feels counter-intuitive
for babies
and us great grandads
who need our outside rest
away from commercial
too lit up
and loud
and relentlessly plastic
inhumane degradations
In such a rabidly anxious hurry
to wait for inevitable pandemics
and genocide,
floods
hurricanes
tsunamis
forest fires
drought
dry river beds
famine
insomnia
rabidity
insurance company bankruptcy
government balkanization
supremacist tribalism
Silent self-medicating snoozes
feels like a healthy alternative to:
capitalist narcissism
anthro-supreme monotheism
monoculturing nationalism
painful survivalist isolation
demented diseases
species extinctions
self v other criminalizations
weaponizations
May feel like hoarding safety
for defense-oriented males
on a bad day
in a depressing moment
Become
yackity yack disrespectful
feeling entitled to rightwing exclusively define
"real [unwoke narcissistic] men."
Yet quietly hiding
under these sacredly respected
and secular unrespected unsuspecting layers
of diverse manhood hues and warring cues
lie traumatizing patriarchal cultures.
Capital co-invested resilient climates
prefer cooperatively active integrity
over passive faith-based respect
and dramatically traumatic disrespect
and unenlightened
stress-triggered verbal unrespect
accelerating competitions,
dis-integrity
unhealthy desecrating excommunications.
Consecrating sacred solidarity feelings
learned today
converge synergetic need/want supportive
resonant polyvagal
resilient communication systems
searching for win/win reconnections
Even when sometimes disrespectfully correcting
my pre- and post-traumatic
stress disordered father
son.
We've met again,...smile in hearts,
Before I resume to page you with what I have,
I welcome you to my desk,
Grace has brought you far to this late lap of expandable life race,
Where are we going to?
The map is missing,
And will you mind being the next captain of this ship?
Taking speculation from this perspective,
I guess the sailing will end with expectations,
Multiple of waves come towards our direction,
It's very frightful,
Hug me firmly,and I will seek for safety,
Day break on an island,
Will it be fine indeed?
Why this question?
"Hurricanes,Tsunamis and its kind have made the journey more hopeless with panic",
Watching the sun,there's a brightening face saying,
"Follow the directions I'm giving you,work with diligence and relax for the rightful moment,...the destination is closer than you think",
Pirates of centuries,...Hunters of years,
Penning down records of those past generations,
Inspirations are dugout,
The passengers number is too much,
Noah's arch carried only seven persons,
You're here,...I'm here together with him or her,
Feel the presence of a spirit around the ship?
Rectification to the star,we're coming close to a coconut tree,
Coins filled in a barrel,
Call me the rich man on sea
Wanted to buy your integrity,
Suddenly,you've taken my birth right,
Lead us;the time is clapping for success,
You're the Psychologist speaking of our existence,
I'm the man who is theologically analysing our existence;
But we shouldn't fright for the same old story,
Look at the moon,it's now full,
I believe we're saved,
And of course,they are secured,
Some have stepped out of the ship,
We're still in here,
Crying everyday for my love one's makes me feel alone,
"Where are they",I seek always their whereabouts,
Escort me to the kingdom of death,
Take the bold step towards it's ruler,
Life is our prime pennant,and we won't swap it,
Soon we'll be lost under the equator,
Tomorrow is engaging today with pain and sweetness,
Wait,for I will serve everyone according to his or her goals,
Much wisdom,less talk;spoken with confidence,
This is your man,"THREE HUNDRED AND SIXTY FIVE DAYS".
Form:
Hey Mr. Universe
Hey Mr Universe, My Heart is so sad, Has everyone in this world gone mad!
So much destruction all over the nation, Whole countries suffering Death and Starvation.
What has happened to cause all this pain?That people kill for power and gain.
A human life was once a precious gift, But the world’s leaders are causing a rift,
Amongst their own people, amongst their own kin, When will they realise to kill is a sin.
Despair and hunger go hand in hand, What happened to tilling, and feeding by hand,
Not drilling for oil, Or killing for spoil.
Where can it lead? There are people to feed,
but no! They want power, Don’t they know poor people cower,
Down to extremists, religion, dictators, Where’s all this damage going to take us?
Nature will fight back, she knows she is owed, Floods, earthquakes, tsunamis, Volcanoes ready to explode.
Each country has suffered, but people look away, Some try to help, but sometimes there’s no way.
We all once were brothers, not separate, not others.
Something terrible’s happened for life to be lessened.
Taken for granted, rich people play, Whilst poor people shrink into nothing each day.
What does the future hold for us all? If we ignore all the signals, we’ll all surely fall,
The balance is threatened, so called progression, We worry each day and talk of recession.
Whilst elsewhere it seems there is deliberate ferocity, Killing and maiming just two such atrocity’s.
Dignified people these nations once were, Now only murder and genocide occur,
What must they think of their fellow man, Letting their children die while they can,
Do something to help them, there must be a way, Help us, please help us do something today.
Before Mr. Universe looks down on us all, And tells us and shows us, we’re all going to fall,
The rich and the famous, the mighty, the poor, Will anyone be here after the mighty core,
Has exploded, imploded, and waged its own war, Upon mankind as a whole, the great Gaia takes its toll,
Ferocious anger will be released, no humans able to stop this mighty beast,
Save our people, before it’s too late, Help us to save them and all will abate!