Tag Archives: climate change

REMAINING ON STAGE

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Crickets on the hearth,

Spiders in the bed,

push early-morning risers

to live out their dread

of hurricanes and floods

and myriad disasters;

reminding us we are mere humans

and the joke of the universe’s laughter.

Perhaps, that is why some few stay

and refuse to be subdued,

pretending they control the stage

lifting a finger in Mother Nature’s face.

And we imagine they are me and you.

As the curtain comes down

the audience leaves, 

except for the very few.

And laughter dies, as seas and rivers

overcome their bounds and flow anew.

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FIRE IN THE BLOOD

Photo by boukhors abdelhakim on Pexels.com

Cloudy strands of night remain across the morning sky.

Heat wraps ribbons of summer across earth’s face.

Autumn asks simply , “Why?”.

The gift wrapped oxygenated air

is a treasure, earthy yet sublime.

How can we see clearer what is dearer

without a cooler, clearer clime

to unwrap summer’s dulling glaze,

and whip away the haze?

Autumn days unwrap vision a ribbon at a time.

Cooler weather help plants and animals prepare

for wintry days and nights ahead.

Too confused to prepare means death, instead.

Already, heat and drought have killed

the dogwoods and the ferns.

Colors fade as flowers thirst.

Grass browns blade by blade.

Field and forest and neighborhoods 

erupt in searing blaze.

Heated winds slap across our face,

challenging humanity to a duel 

between green energy and fossil fuel.

Humanity’s death was once foretold;

no longer by the threat of flood,

but by fire, a fire in the blood.

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WHERE HAVE THE BUTTERFLIES GONE?

Photo by Nandhu Kumar on Pexels.com

Hydrangeas move as if on a breeze.

A breeze of bees moving flower to flower

across lime green, blue and pink.

Across ruby red and native plants

their flowers do a pretty dance.

On this hot, dry day I watch bees play.

But, where have the butterflies gone?

They did not appear this year.

The yard is awash in colorful blooms

In past years butterflies found plenty of room

to feast and sleep a moment or two.

Butterfly bushes and  butterfly weeds,

native plants and other species

await their return in sad revery.

I ask everyone I know,

“have you seen a butterfly this year?”

The answer is always a baffled, “No.”

Where did all the butterflies go?

And, will they ever return ?

Who knows? Like lovers spurned,

they may have found another garden

to replace my own. 

I can only hope so, as I mourn

a topsy-survey world grown too warm.

Photo by Scott Webb on Pexels.com

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GODDESSES AMONG US

I see now why the first deities were female.

Only a woman speaks to the soul of  birth

and breathes new life into 

every soul on this beloved earth.

Goddesses with distended wombs

weighted with hopefulness

are found in every ancient tomb.

Our future had seemed lost.

The entire world seemed doomed.

Death in every household loomed.

A globe on fire steeped in hateful rhetoric

gunned down every effort to escape 

a despondent, hopeless fate.

Covid stole the innocence

of even those usually sitting on the fence.

No one was content to wait and see

what November wrought for democracy.

Moneyed oligarchs of greed stole hope 

as well control over justice with abuse of power.

Federalist  Society Judges delayed justice

hour after hour after hour after hour.

Even the Supreme Court undermined

the Constitution which is yours and mine;

not theirs, not wealthy donors, not those in power.

Then she, she, she, she, she, she, she

took the torch and raised it high.

Emma Lazarus’ female guards our harbor.

Kamala guards us in our darkest hour.

Her smile and laughter brings us

up from our knees, our prayers answered.

A goddess has arisen and made a fuss

of all the lies and hate-filled derision.

Her solemn promise made to us

that she will fight at our side.

She will tan the evil-doers hide

as mothers have always done,

chastising our sins one-by-one.

And so we rise with delighted surprise

to shout as one that we are not done,

and we are not going back where death resides.

We are going forward where life begins.

To a place where elections are open to all.

To a place where life is treasured not spent

on greed and control and all that is indecent.

We are headed to the polls to give our consent

to a mother goddess from heaven’s descent;

called by Joe’s prayers, who always seems to know

what we need and whom to follow.

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Filed under POETRY, POLITICS

SNOW FALL

The world is falling apart, its people deranged.

War and famine join as climates change.

People are on the move to escape the pain.

Water cleanses in blasts and depths unseen.

We wade through facts, the truth unseen.

Snow starts in the upper atmosphere.

Warm air below alters snow

unless we remain cool

where heated skies collide

and moisture tears up in our eyes.

Watching the snowfall gives us hope.

It blankets ugliness’ scope falling on all of us with equal glaze.

Snow reminds us of our better selves and better days.

Spring warmth is gentle like our souls.

It melts the snow so flowers may grow

within the gardens of our hearts.

We are in the midst of a great change.

Unsettled as Spring weather

we must remember we go through this change together.

And those of us who garden will share the bounty of what we sow

with all who are willing to enter

our gates, their needs in tow.

The old world is dying with every angry breath.

Snow in Spring reminds us there is new life after death.

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PAIN

Photo by RDNE Stock project on Pexels.com

Pain changes all.

It puckers lips which can no longer speak.

It furrows brows and narrows the view.

It buckles the knees, threatens our fall.

There is so much pain everywhere,

enough to spare, too much to bear.

Pain always wants out,

it erupts in a shout,

“Make it stop!”

“Stop!”

“Just stop!”

Does anyone hear?

Too many continue

to pour salt in the wound.

Too few seem to care.

Too many press fingers on spots

that pulse too hot

until pain explodes and we drop

to our knees as we plead,

“Make it stop!”

“Stop!”

“Just stop!”

Human angels run by

and try not to cry

as they sound the alarm

and beg to succeed

in stopping the harm.

U.N. food trucks are bombed.

Opposition leaders are killed.

Weather tells stories

to gain our attention.

The earth pleads as do we,

“Make it stop!”

“Stop!”

“Just stop!”

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LAHAINA LAMENTATION

Photo by Thomas on Pexels.com

What do we do?

those of us who love you?

Earth, answer me.

Not with fire and floods,

nor famine and disease.

Your waters still call to me.

Your awesome glory

brings me to my knees.

I climb your mountains,

descend your cliffs,

sail upon your seas.

Earth, I love you

still,

despite your need

to balance out your spirit

by threatening me.

Yes, I know, you warned me 

long ago, and repeatedly.

But, Earth, I  love you so.

What can I do

to prove my love for you?

I cannot let you go.

Can you say the same for me?

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SOLEMN VOW

Photo from Louise’s and the bees’ garden.

Where does my world begin and end?

Before the horizon or beyond it to some unknown shore

That has only appeared in my dreams before?

Is my world worth saving, again and again.

Are we simply so tired we do not mind it could end?

Helpless, it seems, I am to do more.

Technology now must save the day

as I find my own simple way

to save and protect all that I love.

I cannot sit still and not do my part.

I must give it my all, and give you all my heart.

I plant native plants and trees,

flowers whose blooms dance in fierce breeze.

Butterflies and bees swoop in and sip

the nectar of gods, nip after nip.

I feed the homeless and shelter those displaced

by flood, fire, crime, famine and war.

I visit the isolated and phone the lonely.

I stay healthy enough to stay earth-bound a few days more

to love those far away and those close around me.

I fold my hands and grip my rosary beads

praying those with power and ability

know what to do and how to succeed.

I love this Earth, its flora and fauna;

its sunrises and sunsets and all in between.

I love its sunny days and cloudless blue skies;

and days when storms hide sun behind a screen.

There is no place in the universe that I would rather be

than right here with you, as we face such adversity.

My hope lies in science and those drenched in creativity

who see beyond today to a future of love and harmony;

not just for all the people of the Earth

but for Earth herself who offers us sanctuary

within the endless energy of planetary boundaries.

Where does my world begin and end?

Right here, with you, right now.

This is a solemn vow.

take it and make it 

your own

somehow.

HIBISCUS, acrylic on canvass by Louise Annarino with gratitude to her garden.

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SUMMER

Photo by Hassan OUAJBIR on Pexels.com

Summer wears her heart on her sleeve.

Her false smiles and beguiling ways

encourages all to believe

that she is available to play flirtatious games. 

But, know that Summer will always have her way.

She drags us away from kitchens, desks 

and comfy chairs out into her garden on display.

She allows us to become more aware

of her silken charms directed our way.

Droughts and cloudbursts,

sun that brightens and burns our skin,

Allergens and particulates that settle within

make it hard to breathe in her presence.

Her insects sting and guilelessly bite

while Summer’s flower-perfumed essence

awakens and entreats our most intimate senses.

It would be so easy to love Summer. She puts us to the test

against Autumn, Winter and Spring as to whom we love best.

Summer has become a little too free for me.

I prefer a season who holds back her charms

and grants me shy glimpses which raise no alarms.

As Earth heats Summer’s gaze, subtlety fades  away.

Summer has become almost too bold,

too sure of her dominance, too unsafe

to simply play our Summers away.

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HAIKU

MAY FROST

Photo by Mariya on Pexels.com

First light. What a sight !

Tulips hold their petals tight.

Ice came in the night.

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