Fire ruined
Almost everything
To ashes
With a
quick glance
And destroyed
the lives
Of thousand animals
Even though some
Rescued gracefully
With the
helping hands
Of God’s love
And the
Panic situation
Settled only
After a blessed rain
That rain
Helped to
Quench the fire
And healed
Thousands of
Wounded hearts

Again
Slowly
It started to recover
By the wet land
And those trees
Started budding
And making
Its leaves
By filling
The holes of
Ruined land
With the
Wholly vibes of
Pleasant nature
That soothes
Every soul
To live and
Love the land
Once again
With its mesmerising
Scenic beauties
To feel
Grateful for
And giving a
Remembrance
To maintain our
Biodiversity
By enhancing
the greenery
To enrich our
Flora and fauna
With a balanced
Ecosystem

What time is it in Philadelphia?
What's a mile in k-m's?
How much is that in Australian?
What the heck is a chimichanga?

Our liberal party is right wing
We drive on the left side
I'll educate girls: American
I'll share my way of life

And even though the differences
Instructs the way we live
We will still form bonds through our phones
I'll stay appreciative

Australia is on fire
and I imagine that I can smell
the burning fur and flesh of
animals I can’t even name.

I’m full of ****.

The truth of me is that
bushfires a world away
are not the reason
I haven’t been dry
a day since Christmas.

No
The World’s Problems
do not keep me awake.

Syrian children with melted skin
won’t ever feel as real as
knowing I have not looked -really looked
into the eyes of my own in months.

The m&m’s the Vraylar drug rep brought are real though
they are as real as the number on the scale.

Which is at least as real as my boss
when she used the words “corrective action.”

Which was at least as real as my ex-husband
who is back to the job of propping up his half of my life.

Which is at least as real as The Boy who is a friend turned stranger
who wrote the poem I stole those words from.

It’s turtles all the way down.

Whoseforest

flames hail,
so They wail
in Whoseforest.

the smog of it all,
has the system dull
in Whoseforest.

wails of help resound,
but are Their voices really found?

a peasant man’s dime too little,
a wealthy man’s dime too many.
                                 lackthereof
the kings lounge
as scorn rages
and rages
and rages
in Whoseforest.

the peasants beg,
“your majesty!
choking up
our lungs,
Their lungs,
Her lungs.
this tragedy
is one of ours
of yours
deploy a strategy
have you not?”

the kings sit
with the wealthy
sipping tea
eyes lit
with lax smiles.

but just like Them,
their voices go
unfound.

peasant, wealthy, royalty
all born and bred
of the same ancestry
brothers cry,
but brothers stray

They too,
both and bred
of their ancestry
but descendants soon
fall flat

mother nature now speaks,
“for we are all born and bred
of the same hearth
should it not be our earth
to love and share?”
She,too, wails
for Whoseforest.

so tell me now,
whose forest?

A new year
A new beginning
It starts with fire.
Fire
That's all you see.
I see my house burning
In front of my eyes
Ripping away piece by piece
Diminishing into the flames.
I see my friends getting hurt
Smoke suffocting them.
They don't know what to do
They can't run or hide.
I hear my family crying;
Our home is fading
We have no where to go.
For you it's just trees.
For me it's home.
It's my food.
It's my living.
Everything is taken away from me
Yet you cry for your loss.
My entire Species is going extinct.
One by one they burn
Along with their house
they vanish into the flames.
This is too painful for me.
I have nothing to cling onto
I have no family to call.
I'm just a homeless runt.

I hear nothing but waves, and the air cascading around me with flecks of salt,
But i see infinite stretches of vulnerablity, it's as if i want to cradle this liquid into a glass and rock it to sleep as the waves and water do to me.
It is already the beginning of the ash mixing with the salt,
And the coral as white as the rarest of albino,
The layers of life are being heated to an extra degree,
The sun which gives us prosperity and hope beams in an angry, mocking setiment as if a child has been abused.
Which it has.
And the child protection workers are nowhere to be found.

As a family we have to admit our mistakes,
We have to strive to be better,
We need procedure, supports to at least be good enough,
We need to stop beating, abusing, and bruising.
Because our child will withdraw, our child will retaliate, and eventually fight back or destroy itself in the process.
And we will go along with it.

Red moon
The sky bleeds too
Maybe this is hell
I guess that's up to you

These trees could only stand still
And as the fire grows
So we will too
And watch as the world turns red
While we all feel blue

there is an ominous sense of portent
in the air
in the orange glow of the sun
in the dry heat
in the smoke in the air

for others it was far worse
in hellish bush fire infernos
seeing their homes and all familiarity
converted to ash
alone with nothing but tears

a natural disaster
born of
unnatural plundering of earth resources
the consequence of consumerism without restraint
and a soothsaying denying bogan Shrek of a PM
pretending to care just to save his political neck
go back to kirribilli ya ****
there’s no votes for you here

suddenly the consequences of she'll be right
we'll vote for relatable people who will take care of jobs
are outed as people who have no long term idea
but the're own short term political survival
and are culpable for the hell around us now

suddenly the offence we have inflicted on nature
is showing us the kick back
and the arrogance of thinking we were in control
is being torched by an angry mother
who doesn't love us for what we've done
we were deluded to think we had any control
now surrounded by bush fires that are out of control

portending a time for humility
and acceptance that we are not needed

Mom.  
            Mom,  

My skin,  
is alight.  
My fur, singed
like the surrounding brush
of my home
and your home (and their home)
alike.  
Each breath
and step  
that I take  
secures a winded grip  
from within my chest
as the crackled
orange embers, spread  
their scorching grasp
across the rest,  
of my feeble body.  
–For a moment–  
I, am picked up
in a heated embrace,  
then dropped
like a child  
gets disinterested  
with one toy
before pillaging
to the next.  

Mom.  
            Mom?

This isn’t a warm hug-   

We’re burning.