Poetry | Stories | Photography
We had everything; rain-cloudy days, green grass on the hills, and the passing seasons.
Our beautiful home. Slowly and then rapidly, we destroyed all that we loved.
Now the lucky few found a new home of dust, rust, and the absence of rain clouds, season, and love.
Dressed in simple cotton robes, six gathered around the point of examination.
They hesitated. All were too afraid to touch such a foreign-looking living thing.
Braver than the others, one touched a branch a thumb. All followed, touching the last two trees.
Wading in the sea glass and the sandstone,
look for the place where you used to stand,
thinking back to every time we came here.
An image of you returns.
I cannot remove that image from my mind;
you continue haunting
my life, my mind, and this place of our own.
Wading with only beautiful memories of you,
hearing the bombs fall,
my heart and my mind yearn to see you again.
Between the cliff and the sea,
walking along a sandy path.
No shells left for you to see,
nor the feelings you once felt.
Beautiful this place once was,
when shoes were not needed.
No heart in this place anymore;
destroyed by pollution and plastic.
Words spoken we feared would come
to spill out from old rusty speakers.
We never thought this day would come,
we always knew this day would come;
we did it to ourselves, and we knew it.
Words spoken, hurried tones to loved ones
for they will be the last words from our lips.
We stood and sat as the day moved along;
a last dose of intimacy between the two of us.
The record player sits still waiting for the album,
yet we cannot decide what will be the last song.
We play them all for the rest of the day waiting;
then a song starts to play we both love and
…
..
.
A world devoid of emotion,
the only colour to wear is grey.
They stand in a single file,
waiting for their daily rations.
Just one look he stole for love,
a look she returned for life.
Locked in a totalitarian world,
walking to their execution.
I dreamt of the absent sea.
No saltwater stirring the waves,
no moon or sea for you and me.
When I awoke in the night,
there was no morning light,
yet the moonlight was bright.
I dreamt of the absent sea.
No saltwater stirs the waves,
no moon nor you, soon no me.
We felt terror and adrenaline running
through those disintegrated streets.
You were so different from the others;
a person with a set purpose, moving.
I felt the weight of endings lingering,
as the bombs started falling heavy.
Running, hiding, killing, surviving;
that’s what we became for so long.
When it’s all over, you said we’d find
a place to call our own once again.
A place far away from the concrete
and chemicals; from the horrors
of what we and the world had become.
I said, “That would be wonderful”,
as the sound of your voice faded.
A wandering mind travels so far,
admiring your mineral collection.
Will we find planets like tourmaline?
My mind travels into the darkness,
hoping we find a place as Earth dies.
Rain falls from the sooty clouds
to kiss the desolation we made.
They saw the rain contemptuously,
then they cried when it fell no more.
The clouds call the rain to fall again,
but only for the love of the land.
C & K 