World Running out of Water
The whole world
Seems to be
Getting hotter
And drier
And everywhere we go
Water supplies are stretched
To the breaking point
As the world
Faces a water shortage
Many big cities
Are running out of water
Farmers are desperate
And AI data centers
Are becoming huge
Water hogs
Making the situation
Even more precarious
And dire
Two quail skitter quickly up
this gentle country dirt path,
one running faster than the other.
It's hard to keep up sometimes.
A dog watches from his porch
and wonders if there's food
ahead as he barks at the quail.
Competition can be a real strain.
In his envy and frustration his barks
get louder -- the quail run faster
to the safety of bushes with berries.
"See here ... doggies don't eat berries."
The hours passed like seconds
And stripped our youth away
The years they passed like miles
From the window of a plane
As life goes on and ticks away
And the glass runs out of sand
The hours pass like seconds
Times a curse upon this land
Dear wife, I know you aim to please,
but I did not ask for antifreeze;
and so, if you don't mind, I think
I will pass on your proffered drink.
You've got a glimmer in your eye,
but I'm not ready, yet, to die.
I still have the keys to the car,
I'd better hit the gas and go far.
There she goes
As fast as her legs can run
Enforcing all effort
To hide what she's gone and done
Moments of deep rage
Popped the proverbial top
The ones standing near
Clothed in spew that won't stop
Years and years he stuffed
The words that could never be spoken
Lest proper folks learn and discover
The child he willfully abused and left broken
Same thing happened to parents
Three generations back
But the difference is
They were filling time with what they lacked
The one that stands tall in the end
Comes far removed from time and space
A pure soul, clear and open
To endure and transmute all fear grown in that place
....running through roots
Written by Trudy Schrader on 07-18-2026
Laughed, as I had, and quicker
More hilarious
Running to me, it was life.
Tension's escape valve.
Sentiment, end of school day's
Burstingly echoed.
First, a gate through; then wall on
Wall, neighbourhood-aired.
As stern, and as unprepared
Subdues, to dissolve.
She was here for us everyday
But we forgot to ask
What she was running from
We forgot that she was human too
Not just our shoulder to cry or
Or our therapist to rely on
We forgot she needed us too
We didn't notice her
When she cried behind her perfect smile
And eyes that showed no pain
We didn't notice her
Till she became a memory to be buried within.
And we didn't reply in time
And then came a day
When she wasn't present
To make it all okay
She was already running
Away
She wanted to change the world
Do a little good in her life
But it took her away instead
And the goodness I took for granted
Left
She gave away all her love
Left herself none
And when she wanted help
People ignored her signs
And called her funny instead.
She wanted only a hand to hold
For somebody to grab her
When she plunged into the water below
Somebody to whisper
"Don't worry
I am going to be with you forever."
I thought the silence sat heavy,
but only I was carrying the load,
and so only I felt the crushing weight,
of my silence.
I've found that I'm incredible at
running from my problems,
while inciting them to chase me.
But you did a real good job,
of causing them.
Just as you weigh my value,
to another of my blood,
I raise questions of your own,
against so many others,
who ought to be in my life,
in your place. Oh,
how could I ever make you understand?
When my tongue dries up,
moment your hands tighten on the steering wheel.
I'm not one to make my mind known,
and the cloth and wire I wrapped round my neck,
knows that twice as well.
my grief is not aesthetic,
my sleep is not coming,
my fever dream is your absence,
my hope is your damnation,
my pleasure is your absence.
your grief is my imprudence,
your sleep is your nature,
your fever dream is my humiliation,
your hope is my successes,
your pleasure is your mind becoming my own.
is not the same
as mine
My Sinnerwoman
smiles when she’s caught
in the rain,
she’s enjoying
every sensual thought
her feet slap the Earth
back to its beginning,
and the air whips
through her sweaty hands
running
up the wall of a hill
the mockingbirds
cheer for Sinnerwoman
halfway to the top
an albino deer
spots the saint in her
when they meet
eye-to-eye
on the curve
of the disheveled trail
A plastic bag
dances, pirouettes,
in the middle of the street
more graceful than the trees
in their steadier sway
Sinnerwoman growls
“damn lazy littering
bastards!”
balls it up in her fist
to bring back home
“Oh Sinnerman,
where you going to run to?”
Home
I’m always running home
Emotions running rampant
exploding inside my head
faster than I can write
without my strokes
looking Chinese
A squirrel named Zip McFlurry
ran track without a worry~
he’d dash along the treetops
with lightning in his tail.
He trained with nuts for protein,
his stride was crisp and clean,
and every time the whistle blew
he’d simply outrun the cheers and hails.
The rabbits tried to pace him,
the blue jays tried to chase him~
but Zip just grinned and shouted,
Catch up if you can!
For no one on the forest team
could match his speedy gleam~
the champion of the woodland track,
Zip McFlurry was a lean, mean running machine.
The birds who
honk, honk
don’t deserve
to be called
birds at all.
They crap
without modesty
or a sense
of direction.
They are arrogant,
long-necked,
awkward standing,
weird looking
birds.
I acknowledge
their existence,
and I realize
that we must coexist.
Still,
they can honk, honk
to hell.
I’m just trying
to run here.
I share the sidewalk
with your feathery asses.
Give me an inch
and stop hissing
at me.
Mark's response:
"I've seen drooling women
before. Ben! You want pulled pork
for dinner?"
"Mark!" You don't know
anything."
How do you know
she's a druid?
She is out for a run
with a fistful
of leaves and branches.
Dead giveaway.
Today my daily run, it's pouring rain
From exercise there is so much to gain
What ever the weather I will not refrain
I pass a group of smokers outside a fast non "food" quick death franchise chain
Running bare foot, bare top in just shorts alone
I feel the multitude of raindrops massage my tanned skin
Luckily I'm not a "LOAN SHARK"
In this heavy rain I would need to grow a fin
In the middle of the town I'm aware of many stares
that seem to indicate I"m entirely mad
I assume I don't have all their addictions
I'm free from many a nasty fad
So here's to the rain providing many puddles
into which ,with fun, I can run and jump and splash
The rivers creeks the land
with life giving water they are all awash
Another poem's come to mind
the time has come to dash
Once upon a blue moon
I worked in public school
and it was scary.
So are great horror films.
I once felt that I was in one.
I got out, alive.
I told a previous running coach
whom I don't care to
filter truth from:
stop running in vicious circles,
and make running fun again.
Listen to 'Baker Street'
by Gerry Rafferty.
Watch the last scene
and the ocean scene
from 'McFarland'
the movie.
Cry a little
and run a lot
and live
when living is alive
and you mean something
(if only to yourself).
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