Subscribe to Toylit

Showing posts with label Flaming Ocean. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Flaming Ocean. Show all posts

Friday, February 22, 2013

Adios Amigos Del Mar [Week's News Poem by Khakjaan Wessington, February 22, 2013]

Adios Amigos Del Mar [Week's News Poem by Khakjaan Wessington, February 22, 2013]

Un dia con ennui, fui a mar.
Todavia todos de mis amigos estaban construyendo castillos de arenilla.
Estabamos rodeados con grasa de tortuga, marina, sol—
por eso, saquƩ mi pistola.
Hace treinta cinco anos desde entonces que los vi.
Es hora de terminar este duelo.




Follow us on Twitter @Khakjaan
Return to Toylit
Subscribe to Toylit

Thursday, June 03, 2010

Beyond Petroleum [Twitter Found Poem, June 3, 2010]

Beyond Petroleum [Twitter Found Poem, June 3, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

relaxing at the pool...
The sun is just hot enough...
had A nice time with fried chicken...

A bit windy...The Ocean breeze
upon my face when the wind blows
IS LOVE. The Ocean breeze
and pepper spray upon my face
when the wind blows...
IT BURNS!
Ocean Currents Likely to Carry Oil to the Atlantic??
IT BURNS!
relaxing at the pool The sun BURNS!

and I realize that Pollution IS LOVE.
IT BURNS my fried chicken
IT cools my pool...
IT BURNS my face off

Blatant Pollution
is an acquired taste.
so the next time You are
relaxing at the pool
and everything BURNS your face off
Remember that Beyond the pool of Petroleum
is an Ocean of Petroleum.


Subscribe in a reader

Wednesday, June 02, 2010

Egg of Knowledge [Today's News Poem, June 2, 2010]

Egg of Knowledge [Today's News Poem, June 2, 2010]

My proboscis is thirsty. It punctures the surface
Of the wonderful host. And the taste is delicious.
And success is now failure. What once was obsession
And delusion, has taught me to manage the damage
My destructively ravenous hunger has written
On the planet. The recipe calls for a cauldron—
And an ocean will work—and one heats up the surface,
And one bakes it in gasses. The tide is the message
And the script is of salt and the oil that is leaking.
I am drinking what's left of the host and the knowledge
Of the harvest is filling my beak and my body
Can contain what was left and unknown in that shallow
And too delicate cradle: an egg we have eaten.

“The latest attempt to contain the oil gushing into the Gulf of Mexico hit a snag Wednesday when a diamond-studded saw operated by an underwater robot got stuck in the riser pipe it was intended to slice off, federal officials said.”
– Campbell Robertson and Joseph Berger, The New York Times, June 2, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/03/us/03spill.html?hp

Subscribe in a reader

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Bulimic Surfer [News Poem April 28, 2010]

Bulimic Surfer [News Poem April 28, 2010]

“Crews ignited a small area of the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico on Wednesday afternoon in a first attempt to burn some of the oil before it reaches shore. “Based on our limited experience, birds and mammals are more capable of handling the risk of a local fire and temporary smoke plume than of handling the risk posed by a spreading oil slick. Birds flying in the plume can become disoriented, and could suffer toxic effects. This risk, however, is minimal when compared to oil coating and ingestion.””
– Campbell Robertson, Liz Robbins & Leslie Kaufman, The New York Times, April 28, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/04/29/us/29spill.html?src=mv

Catch a wave on bursting flames.
Swoon while huffing petrol fumes.
Cauterize the bleeding pipes.
Ride pollution's tiger stripes;
Dodge the ruined derrick booms:
Surf the sea and win acclaim.

Tigers burn in forest fires.
Surfers drown—they've pearls for eyes.
Acid rain consumes the crops—
Poisoning with water drops.
Dine upon the earth? Surprise!
Choke on what we most desire.


Subscribe in a reader