I am reading this book right now called The world without us by Alan Weisman. It talks about the world that will be if humans were to somehow miraculously be removed from Earth. And it got me thinking of a poem I wrote about 8-9 years ago that I had titled It will too turn … Continue reading The world without us
In my dreams I fly again Over the mountains there’s a patch of green It reminds me of home A place that I have only been In my dreams I push these thoughts away The images of a home I fly again over these dark fields What am I looking to find?
Is climate change real? Is the world round? Did holocaust really happen? Did we evolve over millions of years? How do you make sense of this? Who came up with these numbers? Have you seen this with your eyes? How can you explain this opposing evidence?
There’s always hope It flows through my veins Rising and subsiding, like waves But never ever going away It seems dark, maybe darkest But dawn is on its way For I believe in my love Faint but never gone It would always stay
I was quiet, I once was Long before the darkness descended A stream of water I was Flowing down a small green hill I was full of life Of beings alive and not I gently continued my path down This little green hill of mine
You have been looking, hard I may say And yet its not what you expected to find Floating over darkened waters, icy and red Looking for the signs of life And there are none You are climbing the mountains Capped with glistening snow Looking for the signs of life And there are none
On those empty green roads No.. I done think I should call them that The path of green gently trodden grass That leads to an unknown place It is not a path in space perhaps But more like a gateway into another time A time where there is no wrong A soft glow of right … Continue reading A gateway through time
He had a terrible dream last night Dreams of death, killing and murder Unsure of what it meant he looked And found it to symbolize ending Things end eventually, nothing stays the same A way of life ends but never dying For death is like a phoenix Always reborn from the dying sparks For when … Continue reading Death is but a beginning
For a moment if you sit and consider This world, this grand universe Where we exist but fleetingly And yet so much potential in this moment To change, to create and to destroy We argue over meaningless issues We fight over small issues We crib about unfair life But we never stop To consider what … Continue reading Fleeting Moments
She was born, she lived And yet her life felt imperfect Her heart desired for something more To go out, to explore Until that one day, when life decided To run out, to go into the wild And she packed what was needed And left what she wanted behind And thus she went, as life … Continue reading Imperfect Life