environmentalism
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The animals live as they
are adapted to live, but never more.
They are primitive. Without free thought,
without art and culture,
without clothing. The trees give shade
and shelter to the animals
I am bursting
life pours forth from every crevice of my being.
I want every sensation
to touch my skin, my mouth, my heart and mind and soul;
We live here in the earth,
deep in soil, blood
red in clay and skin cresting
the sky,
we inhale.
We are young;
Face coated in oil
and litter,
fumes halo our head
One
of the most
Significant instances of misogyny
Within our time
Is the disembowelment of the earth.
You would think,
That with our empathic nature
We would be too hesitant
We find it lying on the beach:
A lump of scales and fingernails,
An inky trail up from the water
Slithering through the sand
Its eyes open and filmy
As if surprised by the sudden darkness,
I took a walk into the trees,
Alone and without fear.
The wind whistled through leaves,
A song that was just for me.
I dream in Green
I dream in shades of emerald and jade
I dream in trees
In plants, in mountains
And sea
What do you want to be when you grow up?
When we are young
We don’t think much of the answer
It is too far away-
I stretch my span of wing, in the air once again
My senses are heightened, carefully I listen;
Silence.
I fly over forest, why is the green so thin?
A child of the spring,
just like me,
we grew together.
With each passing year,
1, 2, 3,
I came to know you.
On every birthday
I could see
how we had changed,
and I loved how
We take, we destroy, and we grow.
We grow without regard to the life around us - not even our own.
We poison our lands, our air, our streams, and our bodies.
Yet we build wealth.
If everyone read National Geographic
There would not be as many things to report about
in National Geographic
If young girls were surrounded by images of beauty and strength
(1) We(2) began(3) slowly(4) as cavemen(5) and then we developed agriculture.(6) Then we developed civilization,(7) but we still used our resources wisely.
The trees he slit each bedtime are my limbs. Breathing branches laid to rest.
Spread as a tumor, Man forces lactating yield, across this wielding breast.
Impatiently sulking through dismal days A wretched state of dour contemplationSeeing only drab shades of darkest graysCaged in cyclical self-lamentation Imprisoned in humankind’s austere wallsConsoled by a primitive ambition Pacing madly about thr
