I cannot forget
your steely-white glare;
the too-hot press of you against my skin.
My body contracted
until cracks appeared.
Plants wilted,
waterholes sucked in
and my body fissured
abandoned to exuberant wind
and the angry roar
of carbon-crazed dragons.
The smoke rolled over us all
like hell's too-slow envoy.
Before it, a syndicate of
unspeakable black halos
infecting eyes, hearts and homes.
And for such
violent indifference
to be reflected
in the leadership.
shared with Earthweal for Brendan's "Truth In A World On Fire" Prompt Aug 21
like you I feel Australian summers are cruel; I do not look forward to them, apart from the chance to swim in the ocean. [I live only 8 minutes from the beach, but did live closer]; even though it’s a little pedagogic I very much like the last stanza 🙂
What tone in the tuning fork struck in the Anthropocene summers — a rising tide of dread that echoes off those impassive faces of leaders and deniers and business-as-usual forgetters with this odd, dangerous sound. It is very difficult finding a poetic step between horror and grief. I think you have a footing here. – Brendan
I remember Australia’s fires. Now North America is burning. And those leaders – globally – doing nothing. I feel this poem deeply – and I imagine you dread the summer that lies ahead. Sigh.
This poem is beautifully embodied – the seamless transition between the experience of overheating in our human bodies and our earth body accentuates both our own and the planets vulnerability. strong stuff.
I recall the wild fires that broke last year in Australia. Today, the west coast here in the U.S is burning. Temperatures are extremely hot across the great map. Yet, people still don’t speak the truth about global warming. It causes extreme weather of all sorts.
like you I feel Australian summers are cruel; I do not look forward to them, apart from the chance to swim in the ocean. [I live only 8 minutes from the beach, but did live closer]; even though it’s a little pedagogic I very much like the last stanza 🙂
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Yes. It lacks the poetry. But I am glad you like it.
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What tone in the tuning fork struck in the Anthropocene summers — a rising tide of dread that echoes off those impassive faces of leaders and deniers and business-as-usual forgetters with this odd, dangerous sound. It is very difficult finding a poetic step between horror and grief. I think you have a footing here. – Brendan
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I remember Australia’s fires. Now North America is burning. And those leaders – globally – doing nothing. I feel this poem deeply – and I imagine you dread the summer that lies ahead. Sigh.
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A dire state of affairs indeed. And all those animals dead and gone forever. Do we think we can escape it?
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Brilliant stuff. Those 2020 fires burned a terrible hole in the Australian psyche. ScoMo has to be the worst PM we’ve ever had.
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This poem is beautifully embodied – the seamless transition between the experience of overheating in our human bodies and our earth body accentuates both our own and the planets vulnerability. strong stuff.
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Thanks, Lindi!!
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I recall the wild fires that broke last year in Australia. Today, the west coast here in the U.S is burning. Temperatures are extremely hot across the great map. Yet, people still don’t speak the truth about global warming. It causes extreme weather of all sorts.
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I know. My frustration and anxiety just grows and grows. 😢
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