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Found Poetry Series

5/20/2023

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This Poem Series... Found Poetry loosely based upon Apple TV series "Extrapolations" and blended with real-life happenings. Thanks for indulging:) More about "Extrapolations" here: https://www.imdb.com/title/tt13821126/​
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​“It’s really, really tough to be honest with people without scaring the hell out of them.” 
 
Too much of our world in too much pain as we crawl out of pandemic hiding into an
Apoplectic wasteland, the speed with which fiction overtakes fact is astonishing;
but the speed at which fiction becomes fact is      unfortunately
even more astonishing     and dire.

2 degrees too many for too many years. Too many burning balls of fire rein
down on too many no-rain days; a million days too many.
Was this what happened to Mars?

Too many garbage piles. Too many rising oceans overturning too many lives.
Too many droughts inciting too many fires               and riots,
over too many injustices. Not enough water for too many every-bodies.
Good thing our Economy is healthy; Nothing is free.
Using the pool water to put out the forest fires as wildfires rage on                 
every continent.                 And there is not enough pool water,
or streams or rivers or lakes or puddles, and not enough                      space
or clean air or food.          Fuck Hope!

Let’s build more -- amidst a time of crisis                   &             environmental displacement;
Build more towers and parking lots and malls and condos,
and pack in the herd like tins of sardines.  Why haven’t we done something?
Too many people doing too many nothings –
until there is nothing left to save, and no reason left to bother.
2 degrees will cook our planet      will cook us all.
Too many             couldn’t be bothered to act         for too many reasons.
 
It’s time to be tough. It’s time to scare the hell out of people.
This is our only home. There is no Planet B.
 
I want to know nothing. I want to know everything.
And        Corporate’s getting nervous.
No more elephants and only 1 humpback whale.
Too many summer hearts from too many orange days.
If it turns yellow, you must mellow.
If it turns red, think happy things instead.                   Red means dead.
We’ve all became lost,   and we’ve fallen away                   off course;
We’re running out of time.
​
“And whenever you feel sad or lonely,
just imagine Gustav Mahler communicating with you from another
place and time before this one” she said                 once
when the Earth was vibrant & hopeful.
I’m sure you’d do the same for me             wouldn’t you?
Do we understand that we can die from a sunny day?
Broken heart days – The world makes us sick
because we made the world sick.
If you are receiving this, please respond                   please                   respond –
in this place         in this now.
We, who are us, share the world; when it becomes less, so do we.
1 for yes, 2 for no – Are you in heaven? Is there heaven? When Earth is hell?
 
It’s time to be tough. It’s time to scare the hell out of people.
This is our only home. There is no Planet B.
 
(April 28/29. 2023)
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​ONCE UPON A TIME
     there was a world built out of hope & faith.
Dead crabs on beaches;
     Dead souls in streets;
Flooded churches falling over crumbling cliffs
into rising oceans from melting glaciers.
     Oh, do you know there’s a future?
Are you certain? Because I’ve not heard good things.
The sanctuary is a swimming pool;
Everyone’s leaving.
We’re good. Surely they aren’t going to let us disappear?
     Radioactive sun and poison mosquitoes;
It’s too hot out to hate people these days.
It’s better to be on the first boat out of town than on the one that never left.
     A spiritual first responder taking care of people who are drowning in a riptide of magma and great despair – Why is God doing this to us?
And, if it is not God, then what lies have we been fed to believe
by leaders who want us complacent and unknowing?
Look at how badly they’ve fucked everything up!
     There’s always hope…
But the sun has seared my skin.
I’m blistered and broken;
I’ve come undone.
     Politicians run amok; politics –
nothing you’d ever want to get involved in;
Nobody wins if we were to sink beneath the waves.
Why isn’t God stopping this? Or the better question is –
why aren’t we stopping any of this?
Maybe it’s because humans suck.
Who cares? – another shelter shut;
Not to be a dick, but the homeless where already homeless… can’t
they do that anywhere?
     Not everything can be saved.
For someone to win, another must lose, soooooo……?????
I did what needed to be done.
For all of you. (But not you or you or you.)
Our cities now float on the bodies of the poor.
Even the privatized rich bitches need to evacuate;
Hurricanes and floods don’t care
who has found higher ground and who is floundering
in the current that is stronger than faith & hope.
     Should we maybe just silently sink below the waves?
At this point, what more is there?
None of this makes any sense to me.
     But I’m glad I’m alive.
I’m glad you’re alive.

It’s up to us to choose to save our world.
There is no Planet B.

​(May 5/6, 2023)
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​Imminent Danger/ The Face of God (from an Internet Café.)
There are decisions that we are asked to make in our lifetimes.
Decisions that in previous times, would have been left to the Gods.
Where are the Gods, now?
Population
Control
Oh
(It’s Father’s Day.
Can’t imagine why he isn’t here.
Because he’s a goofball.)               And, speaking of fuck ups…
 
They don’t know how badly we fucked it up.
Climate change is like a bear, and
we’ve all been in the ring               with the bear
for quite some time…
Oh, pssst, by the way… the bears certainly know how badly we fucked it up.
 
None of this makes any sense.
I’m erasing all of it.                            If only
If we could turn back time…
We’d probably do it all over again.             Oh         
 
Leafs are losing.                  Oh
yeah, they would be…
 
Oh, she’s not answering.
Oh, It’s hot outside.                           Let’s have a BBQ.
 
Could use a friendly face;
I know that if we work together, we can sort it all out.
There are better ways – even you must see that?                                                                  Oh, there are
And if the billionaires this century gave birth to would have focused on them             Instead
of proving their manhood by shooting (their) rockets into space,
then we would not be here now.                 Oh,
the problem is bigger than the weight of the sun.
 
We’ve treated this planet like an all-you-can-eat buffet for 250+ years and now we have T-250 to live before we implode in on our very own stupidity vomit.                               Oh.
“You alone – up there –  not going to solve the problem,” says the Problem…
Our trusty Leaders will simply set another goal & oh              sign another treaty &       then
move the goal/ignore the treaty. Oh. It’s fine.
The real reckless experiment is the one civilization is wrecking – and nobody can claim they didn’t know – many science fiction novels are as accurate as Nostradamus -- they have predicted our present wreck-full predicament.                                                                                                                  
Are we going to solve the problem or are we going to sit        IDLE       idling          until the problem solves us?
  • BOOM! -- What was that?
Don’t know.
Maybe it was the sun and we’ll all be dead in 8 minutes?!
                It wasn’t us:
Russia’s blaming India, India’s blaming China, Iran’s blaming Pakistan, and everyone blames the U.S.
(O Canada says, “Sorry, eh!”)            It seems it’s all gone tits over peach baskets.
Oh             The world is a fine place &
worth fighting for.
 
But you can’t fight for the world if you’re not here.
And we’re not Gods.
We’re just parents & children.
 
What’s going to happen now?                     Oh, I don’t know.                 Nobody does.
               
There is NO PLANET B
(Fading image of Permanent Oh Face – Botox face - Hollywood actress on HD TV because I’m s-O watching too much Apple TV)
(Also, Oh, h-O-pe)

(May 12, 2023)
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What is happening, right now?
     Something exploded in the sky.
     And crashed on the Queensway.
     The 403 is jumbled,
     and the Skyway is squelched.
     Can’t breath                       drive into oblivion;
     Not breathing is the new normal -- It’s just the way we are now.
 
                (At market in the not-so-distant future)
               “Come get your drought-resistant seeds…”
               “Pay for your clean air Hookah – only twenty-five dol-lar!”
               “Rice for you, for only 50!”
 
And it’s not even real rice; it’s that synthetic crap,
but you can eat it, so, it’s good.
Is it?                        Everyone I know has some kind of cancer
and half are dying.
 
People end up storing away parts of themselves
until they are non-existent.
Storage reduction. Lost Memories.
Don’t worry – you won’t even notice they’re gone.
                                                   That’s the beauty of forgetting.                    What?!
Nothing.

     Happily, ever after                            like the movies.
     It won’t go the way you want                       it never does.
     We’re each so insignificant that no one even knows that we exist;
     Except Karma          balance.              
     I aim to do more good; carrying on the mission.
 
                    “What? Why?”  
​                
                    Fuck you, man. I believe in things, alright?!
                    Rains could come back. It might snow.
                    The world isn’t necessarily going to end, okay?
                    You gotta believe in possibilities – I believe in a happy ending.
 
Magic Beans.

What if it’s not what you want?
It’s great.             
                    Is it?
It is a Great Mess.
 
Even if They don’t acknowledge it,
it’s still going to cost trillions of dollars;
And that will decimate Human Society
 
forever.
There is no Planet B.
 
There’s just no way to repair the loss of brain cells.

​(May 19/20, 2023)

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NaPoWriMo2020 - Poem 26

5/8/2020

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NaPoWriMo2020 - Poem 23

5/1/2020

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The prompt was to play with the alphabet (more or less). I was going to cheat and use a poem from when I did this before. Instead, I tried a new one, and Aha! I like it, but I also like the other one, so here are both...

A is for Apocalypse

Architect of anarchy, asshole archetype; And
another apeshit angry anti-asshat holy epiphany --

Aaaaarrrgghhh --

After all the awesome angelic altar-egos
effectively alienate the aliens, isolating with the best of ‘Em,
but only if it’s after eight
and, only if you’re arboreal, all upright and sturdy strong,
can you truly see all that’s wrong.

Ardent animalistic instincts above all else — so I attack,
aggressive and artfully with much ado.
Ammunition needed to amass amenities amongst
the average anomalies in this after-lifetime of allegorical irony.
No glory, like getting schmucked by a lorry, asterisk...
It might have been a bus, but it doesn’t matter when I’m dust --
Awesome August allergies in April —

Aaaachoooo --
Boo hoo. Me too.


(April 24... first write/word gathering, April 25, 2020... arranged, edited, finalized, again Apr 30/May 1)

Mouthful of Marbles

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NAPOWRIMO2020 - Poem 18

4/27/2020

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An Ode to Life’s Small Treasures;
Grandiose Unrealized Pleasures

6:30 am, the arse crack of dawn,
a time for the devil’s spawn,
or so I had thought...
I never knew such beautiful skies! I kid you not!

Opulent pearly pink, incandescent sky,
sultry shades of sorbet sashay.
Bloomy roars, reverberating cheery encouragements.
Optimistic rosy glow, vibrantly voicing hope,
radiating a golden orb of fiery faith in rocky times,
peeking out from the sinister buzzkill clouds;
Glorious red and yellow blazing, entwining flames of citrus
in sky mirrors, topsy turvy glassy reflections make me tipsy.

(Ideas/working out of ideas April 24, 2020, Written and fine-tuned April 25, 2020)
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NAPOWRIMO2020 - Poem 12, Triolet

4/19/2020

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Rules of the Triolet Form...
The requirements of this fixed form are straightforward: the first line is repeated in the fourth and seventh lines; the second line is repeated in the final line; and only the first two end-words are used to complete the tight rhyme scheme. Thus, the poet writes only five original lines, giving the triolet a deceptively simple appearance: ABaAabAB, where capital letters indicate repeated lines.
I can see your light
From your pit of hell
Don’t give up your fight
I can still see your light
Can’t wait for no knight
I know how far you fell
But I can still see your light
From your pit of hell


(April 17, 2020)
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NAPOWRIMO2020 - Poem 10

4/19/2020

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2 hay (na) ku sonnets, based on certain song titles downloaded to my iPhone iTunes...

Advice from A - L for Troubled Times

Life
Is closed
Living is not

Awake
At last
Beds are burning

Cold
Dead heart
Long hard road

Intolerance
and hurt
Float on by

Walk the line
At world’s end


Enjoy
the silence
Of dearly departed

Insane
Jungle boogie
In the brain

Just
can’t get
enough karma police

Killing
in name
of King Lionheart

Cracked
but not
Broken in pieces

Kingdom of rust
Living on Prayers
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NAPOWRIMO Day 4

4/4/2020

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Life is a Flight of Stairs

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NAPOWRIMO2020 - Poem #2

4/4/2020

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Battle by the creek:
Red squirrel defends domain;
On offense now, a chase ensues.

It can’t be that bad --
nuthatches laugh.

Woodpeckers go about their day,
knocking all the way.

Crow butts in, causing chaotic scattering.
Turkey vulture circles,
joined by a kettle looking to kill.

Here, life goes on.

Robin announces it’s Spring.

Dark eyed and grey Juncos peeping in the shadows of the earth.

Squirrels galore, gathering and
chittering.
Laughing

Cardinal love is in the air;
Red croons to his love.
She, joins him — a fine pair!

Mourning dove laments — We can
never be who we were before.

Doggy days indeed.

And still --
We laugh.


Prompt: place (at this time)

First Draft... Mar 19/20, 2020 ( #lifeinatimeofcorona #artinatimeofcovid #keepcalmandcreate #missnikki_poetry #everydayarteveryday )
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NAPOWRIMO2020 - Poem 1

4/4/2020

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Tumultuous Times (2020)

opulent pearly pink, incandescent sky,
sultry sherbert sashays, radiating hope in rocky times

oh, the iridescent greening!
permeates pandemic panic
and, like a colouring book,
vivid rainbow petals burst.

then, bugs buzz back,
into my life like death hugs.
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NAnxiETRY (#NaPoWriMo Day 1)

3/29/2019

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gearing up for NAPOWRIMO
if only there were a poetry depot
I’m excited but also terrified
from the expectations specified
I’ve psyched myself out
and now I’m in a drought
​

What do I do?
I fret and I stew
for its when I must
that I go bust
I resist and revolt
I need a lightening bolt


but I must write poetry in April
perhaps I should be grateful
I have words to share
and then
and poetry swoops in to save the day


there was a bit of brilliancy, there,
for
a
moment...
but it’s over now
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