Tag: nature

#PoeticAnswers 32 – Why Does The Earth Look Flat If It’s Round?

It could be described as
“A short-sighted view”
Which has caused the resurgence
Of the flat-earth theory.

For years, we’ve been saying
“The world is round”.
From Pythagorean proclamations,
All the way to Parmenides and Hesiod,
Scientific and mathematical minds
Across all of time have
Looked and succeeded to prove
That the world is spherical.

But now we’ve come full circle,
And we’re sinking in a downward spiral
Because it’s more than just gravity
Getting us down.

Logic has given way to celebrity
Scientologists and other idiots
Create endless conspiracy,
From the fallacies of evolution,
And vaccines ruining those in infancy,
We are in a world where progress
Has become the opposite of congress
And politics and facts are alternative.

Through combinations of science, mathematics,
And literal space travel we have literally seen
That the earth is a sphere.
I’m sorry if the correct use of literal has confused you.

Light travels in a straight line,
Despite who you are as a person,
I know you see straight.
Place a mark in the ocean
And swim to it while we hope the sharks get you
And then look back.
We won’t be there, because the land rolls away,
And, to be honest, we’re just not supportive.

You can search for the edge
Like a desperate U2 fan at Glastonbury,
But it will not be there.
You still haven’t found what you’re looking for.

But if you keep swimming, you might come around to the right way of thinking.

Question from Denise K. from Facebook

#PoeticAnswers 79 – Still?

You’d think after all this time
That things would change and
I wouldn’t feel the same.
It’s a shame that I couldn’t
Be like you or be liked by you
Or convince you to stay.
But much like the champagne
On our wedding day,
Our love fell flat and lost it’s fizz
As quickly as you lost interest.
Now all I do is invest my time
Looking at these photographs
Of a different life
As I wonder if everything
From the kisses and the smiles
Was just a lie.
I never saw you cry.
It was as though there was no
River of tears behind your eyes,
Just frozen lakes on frozen nights
And frozen in time, fixating
On never changing, fixating
On stopping, fixating on silence,
Building it like a fence to keep us apart
Because it was easier to feel nothing
Than to feel pain.
I wish I could feel the same
But there’s a fire in my heart and brain
That stops me from being as cold as you are.
And no matter how hard I try,
I cannot will my heart to stop,
Despite the torment and the
Blame game you played,
Playing me into taking the blame
For us drifting apart like
Falling stars from the night sky,
Falling into nothing and silence
And out of existence,
Despite your insistence and
The hurt and distance that
Lies between us,
Despite all of this,
Darling, yes.
I love you, still.

#PoeticAnswers 74 – What Does A Hurricane Sound Like?

Like a tidal wave against a stone wall and the shatter of glass,

Unheard prayers on rooftops and in churches and in desperation.

The roar of crumbling concrete as it dissolves to dust.

The crying of parents of lost, dead or dying children.

Trees being ripped apart like pieces of paper and then engulfed in flame.

The shriek of a baby as she starves and doesn’t know why or who to blame.

Like an army of ghosts with nothing left.

And then nothing.

Deafening nothing.

In a place where the sea meets the tears of disaffected dead
In a wasteland of rubble and scrap metal where the earth and the air is still.

And no one cries for help because they lost their voices to panic and pain.
Just the gentle lapping of waves of polluted water and rain.

Giving way to nothing

Hundreds of thousands of people are currently affected by Hurricane Irma and the aftermath. Please, if you can, support these people and the charities that are working to help these people. For more information on how you can help, click here for a list of the charity organisations that you can donate to and support.

 

#PoeticAnswers 70 – How Are Sunglasses Made?

How Are Sunglasses Made?

I didn’t get my sunglasses overnight.
It took years for my vision to
Succumb to this degeneration
Which leaves me wearing sunglasses
Every day.
And every night.
And every waking moment.
You see,
It started as a smudge
That wouldn’t go away.
Like a permanent stain
Creeping and crawling to and from
My eyes and my brain.
Making everything a little
Grey and hazy,
Dangerously driving me crazy
Until it became a permanent mist,
A permanent state of grey
Blocking out the light with
Like a low level filter that was
Cutting the bright from my life.
Before descending into a circling storm,
Black clouds,
Heavy and dense,
Falling and crashing,
Like eyelids against the tide of midnight
Tainting my eyes with shadows of doubt
That can’t quite turn off the light.
Leaving me with this tinted view
Of life, of love, of the world
Through lenses Of black.

Question from Laura W. from Facebook

#PoeticAnswers 63 – Where Are Your Tears Hiding?

They’re trying to hide in the weather,
Behind warm mists and bitter frosts
And rain on the lens of my glasses.

They’re trying to hide under my fingernails,
And walls of stressed, red brick
Decorated with black and blue shadows.

They’re trying to hide behind my eyelids,
Locked and sealed up tight,
Doors to a world I’m too afraid to open.

Question from Michael Clark from Facebook

#PoeticAnswers 62 – What Do Clouds Taste Like?

Clouds taste like journeys,
Travels and memories of
Places they’ve been before.

Evaporation,
Water dying from the heat,
Heading heavenward.

Condensation, the
Droplets come together like,
Soft, cold, sad choirs.

Precipitation,
The weight of emotion makes
Them want to fall back.

Fall back to the earth,
Recycled as rivers, seas
And oceans from raindrops.

But sometimes, they’re lost,
Dripping onto your tongue to
Hydrate and help you.

Then lost forever,
Lost in a thoughtless moment,
Tasting like sadness.

Question from my best friend and favourite kitten, Courtney G

#PoeticAnswers 55 – How Can I Make Her Love Me Like I Love Her?

You can’t.

Because love isn’t something
That can be made in a shed like
Made to measure jigsaw pieces
Because love isn’t about
Making cuts and changes to make it fit.

Love is natural and organic,
Like the tree that was cut down
And stripped and made bare and
Manipulated and carved into
Something it wasn’t.

Love is something that needs to
Take root and grow
As a result of care and patience
And then let it’s arms
Reach out of their own accord.

It’s not something that should be
Forced and coerced under
Bright lights and routine and glass roofs
Because then it would be
Synthetic and false.

Love has to be authentic,
It can’t grow in a cage because
It won’t grow or blossom into what it should be.
Trying to force, construct or deconstruct it
Will only make it invalid.

It wouldn’t be true to her or you

Question from Colin M. from Facebook

#PoeticAnswers 30 – If You Could Invent A New Colour, What Would It Look Like?

A colour that looks like the smell of coffee,
Moving from dull to bright with increased exposure,
Still but swirling, dark but milky,
A bittersweet shade for the morning.

A colour that looks like the taste of water,
Clear and unimposing, clean and dull,
Something cold but refreshing,
Nothing with a hint of something.

A colour that looks like the sound of night,
Brooding stillness and streetlight buzz,
Faintly hinting of distant brightness,
Indistinct and iridescent as your eylids close.

A colour that looks like the touch of a lover,
Sometimes warm, sometimes cold,
Violent and vibrant, or sometimes mellow,
Inconsistent, like a rainbow of skin.

Question from Michael Clark from Facebook

#PoeticAnswers 29 – Where Do Butterflies Sleep?

He woke in the spring.
He did not feel beautiful.
He cried and took wing.

His chrysalis gone,
Warm summer grass became bed,
Clinging on, he slept.

Leaves fell with autumn,
The grass wilted and skies greyed,
He was left homeless.

Tired, he sought refuge.
A crevice, a bed of stone.
Then the winter came.

Question from Lucero I. from Facebook