September 17th: 1:22AM
I feel alone
I want to go home
26 years ago my mother wears a white dress
she’s probably wearing sweats now
or yoga pants
I’ve never known a more beautiful woman
than the one I’ve seen taking care of my father
in the middle of the night
when he is most vulnerable
he won’t look at me.
When he feels powerful
his gaze gives him away.
I can’t lift the weight
of one tear drop
So I stay far away, all alone.
UN Report Says Small-Scale Organic Farming Only Way to Feed the World
Image: eatdrinkbetter.comNick Meyer | AltHealthWORKS
Even as the United States government continues to push for the use of more chemically-intensive and corporate-dominated farming methods such as GMOs and monoculture-based crops, the United Nations is once against sounding the alarm about the urgent need to return to (and develop) a more sustainable, natural and organic system.
That was the key point of a new publication from the UN Commission on Trade and Development (UNCTAD) titled“Trade and Environment Review 2013: Wake Up Before It’s Too Late,” which included contributions from more than 60 experts around the world.
Claaaassic corporations. Classic. Good thing I’m going to become a farmer and help to reverse this nonsense.
July 22: The Map Poem Draft No. 1
The fading tip of Chile leaves the purple pulpy ocean open for embarkment
and the over-pulped, blurred edge grows Greenland
like volcanoes, ever expanding in the world
but not on my purple page flecked with green, red, and blue.
I’ll follow your finger point out vague locations on the map
that only outlines continents.
You’ve been to the blue speck of mountain range in Alaska.
You’ve seen the swirl of green across the Middle West prairies
and the red rock flecks out West.
You’ve scuba dived in fading Central American islands
that hardly even exist in black on this map or in my mind.
I pretend the circles of spilt pulp in the South Pacific are private places;
a whole continent just for you and I to roam
together for the first time, but
I know they are just imperfections of homemade paper.
A poem I should have written almost a year ago. It is based off of a piece of paper I made that has a map on it, and the person I gave the paper to. I’m working from memory, but I think there’s something to it so far.