Silhouetted trees
Black against a neon sky
Sway in a cool breeze
Summer is waning
Which heightens the nostalgia
Of teen years long passed.
Category: Climate
Record heat persists
Living beside intense fires
And massive flooding
The stripping of rights
Polarizing of nations
Anger…everywhere
But this damn sunrise
Is so fucking beautiful
That we snap photos
Rather than bask in the bright
And vivid moment
A breeze has begun.
Listless still, but cold and crisp
It harbors the fall.
and the end of an old cycle
But, underneath the wind
A budding laugh grows
And she awakens
Like a new spring
Categories
Climate Blind
Storms in the west
Floods in the south
We’re watching it happen
But shutting our mouth
Record heat in the east
And in the north too
Shaking our heads
What’s there to do?
Nothing can change until we make it so
Revolution is coming
And lots of sorrow
To grow is to change
That’s the advice most given
Which of course implies
That change is progress
But often, that’s not the case
Change is simply change
It’s not attached to morals
And while it can be progressive
It’s doesn’t always mark progress
In fact sometimes
It marks steps backwards
Instead of forward
But again, not always
Because change is simply that:
change
It’s attached to nothing
But we change
So we can breathe.
Categories
World on Fire
Orange light streams in
And the floor dances with fire
Meanwhile, in the sky
Pink translucent clouds are shaded
By billowing plumes of smoke
Ash covers the sidewalks
Children play with it
Like they would a puddle
Watched over by a flaming copper sun
Why is it so beautiful
When the world is on fire?
Categories
Gentrified Sky
Cotton candy skies
Sweep over hard machinery
Gray to contrast pink
Spun sugar clouds
Sun bleached and fractured with gold
Hang amidst black plumes
Of industrialization
Wind slinks on the ground
It’s unseasonably cold
May should be bright, warm
Full of buds and flowers
Not this bleak, cold, gray howler
Is it climate change?
Perhaps.
Or maybe the weather
Is a reflection of my own mood.
My car climbs the road
To find a spot over the trees
And all the houses
Just to catch a glimpse
Of fraying clouds burnished gold
Slashed over mountains
A sunset, bright and bleeding
It’s a reminder
Things that might seem torn
Or damaged or shredded
Are still achingly beautiful
A bruised sky looming
Black tinged and brushed with purple
Pink blossoms stare up
Incandescent
Mouths open, waiting for rain
The sky takes a breath
And the bruise darkens
Droplets slip down the window
Tracing tears on the glass
Angry, the clouds harden
Tears change to sideways torrents
Drowning the flowers
Hipstory 