Elucidating Questions

I don’t mind if she’s so shy she only comes at night these days

She drips so soothingly over her skin

I don’t mind that she’s gone by the time I wake up

Her memory strewn all around

But I live for the day when she returns to the light

When the rain falls from the skies just right

I want to feel on my skin that everything is alright

Baby come back to me tonight

It was sundown the light was here no more

But she was hanging out at the back door

Watching pieces of her falling to the floor

Baby come back to the day again

They’re like itching to use those nuclear weapons

All of them

Russia, China, US, N Korea…

Hundreds of men gunning to destroy our planet

Thinking

Just give me a reason

Like they’re not carrying weapons of mass destruction

Mom I don’t know what’s going to kill us first

I wonder which is better

Either way the world is forever changed by humanity

In the worst way

The Sun is watching all this

I wonder what he thinks

These little shards of the universe came to life and then destroyed all life around them

The tale of humanity is so sad

Constantly fighting, dying, being killed, enslaved, raped, destroyed for being kind

Only to let the worst of them run the world into the ground

Bombs or heat

It ends in fire

While our mother’s heart burns on beneath us

We desecrate her skin

And leave nothing breathin

I’m almost at 2500 poems

Should I do something?

Throw a party?

In honour of 2500 poems I’ll write 500 more poems?

Eventually

Though I would probably have to write more

It lost its meaning

Not really fighting for anything anymore

And I’m much more content to be alone

Don’t have to put myself into writing to feel alive

Not that I feel much more alive, no

But I’m still trying and it’s harder than it was when I was there

And now I’m here

What a different place to be

I wonder how much time it would take to read it all?

I wonder how much of it has meanings lost to insanity of days long gone?

Well, it’s premature, but we all know I’d miss it anyways I’ve missed every milestone thus far

If you’re still reading, thank you

If you’re new, don’t read too much it’s not good for you

If you hate it, don’t read it

And if you like it I’m touched

What a weird life this has been

I indulged my inner crazy person and cast a spell

Mama Earth then indulged me with a great thunderstorm

Complete with the rain I had apparently called

Now I’m not saying I’m psychic or magic or anything but

Why does this seem to happen every time I indulge my crazy?

It would be confirmation bias if it didn’t happen every time

Now I’m watching the sun shine through the clouds in magnificent bands of light

It would be pretty fucked up if I’m actually magic when I’m insane

Though, really, par for the course

Because no one would ever believe me

Hell I don’t believe me and it keeps happening to me

Dear love, I’m Magic Mage after all

The thunderstorm was fantastic though

When you see the young ones calling themselves old,

You feel momentarily betrayed

lol

But then you know how it feels because if I didn’t feel old

Granted, I have various diseases, but regardless

You get it for a moment

Oh young thing,

Don’t call yourself old

Even a man who hits mid life at thirty still has his entire lifetime ahead of him

The sky is weeping

Thank gods

Trying to will the sky to open up

Old is knowing too much

Young is having no power to do anything

Odd to be both

Some people never get old

To know the feeling of being too old too young,

But still it feels so dysphoric to be old in comparison

Life is queer

In the old sense of the word

My soul doesn’t feel any older

It’s my body holding me back

I wish I could grasp those days again

Before I knew too much

And had no power

Smoky air

Aching throat

Somewhere closer than I can comprehend people no longer have a home

Fire, forest fires, are not supposed to be devastating

Not in that they leave mountains, fields, stretches of land desolate

Fire enriches the soil

They’re supposed to be life bringing

We’ve taken this Earth and broken fire

I bet Prometheus regrets giving it to us

Temperate rainforests are not supposed to be so dry that they burn to the ground

Oh Gaia

I know you’ll be fine, but all your creations

We’ll destroy everything

Smoky air

As if my body feels the seriousness, I feel so heavy

Like a weight has come over me

How I wish I could bring rain

We broke rain too, but the ocean is still kicking

Trying anyways

They intend to break it all

And the masses are going to let them.