Huddle close ye destroyers and sirrah
Come see the relics of bygone eras
Behold your spat out bodies, keepsakes
Forsaken and lodged in dried up lakes
Bronze aged artifacts pregnant with verdigris
Rusting Bud cans exposed within mans hybris
All being revealed from under Ma Ganga’s feet
Rivers once the life blood, boiled by record heat
Sun-dried evidence even still climate denied
Lack of rain couldn’t be man made, they decry
A 1200 year drought, who cares look at Miley’s dress
Scarce water yet ignorance, pablum and apathy in excess
The body of missing teen found plastered over headlines
Barely mentioned, the lake and its 500 year low waterline
A society that buries itself in fantasy buying virtual land
Will eventually realize that our bodies cannot drink sand
For the River, Gone challenge at earthweal
The Drought of ’22

Wonderful rendition. The rhyme really nails it home at the end
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I similarly appreciate your take on the challenge and made it personal to you.
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This poem tells it like it is. We are addicted to “reality” tv (perhaps the most ironic term ever, as we remain oblivious to actual reality), and scarcely notice rivers drying up, as long as they’re not in our back yard. A hard-hitting poem, to wake people up, and so well done. Lovely to meet you at earthweal.
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Thank you Sherry, i appreciate the kind words and commentary.
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Sanctuary Meta Incorporated
is to be consolidated, from the
thinning air, into the resurrected
Tower of Babel by the royal decree
of the Abomination of Desolation
Propriety Limited ™
A penthouse suite has been
reserved for you, if you have the
money, Honey? I got mine for free.
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Ha thanks for the comment…David much love. No penthouse suite for me however because I have been deemed a “useless eater” As a World Economic Forum member recently said. Me and my ilk will be turned into soilent green to feed the next generation of “Useful eaters” AKA persons making at least 7 digits yearly….
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The New & Improved Soilent Green, now boosted with that processed
taste of vaccine … try some today,
It’s Yum!
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How long will it take for the virtual world to awaken from its dream, sick of drinking sand from meta glassware? Too long, I fear. And for all the human elements obviously deranging now from lack of water, biospheres are dying of thirst. Tellingly and achingly told here. How sad we must write these poems. Thanks so for bringing yours to earthweal. – B.
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The virtual world will offer no relief when the real one is gone. Well said. (K)
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The prophetic tone of your verse suits the urgency of the situation, Cara. We are indeed looking the other way while the earth burns!
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Always a pleasure to hear your thoughts Ingrid! Hope life is finding you well.
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Thank you Cara – you too!
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Wow! Indeed, we cannot drink sand nor relics–nor can we look at bling instead forever! This poem! I wish I had written it. Thank you!
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Wow thanks for the great comment! The earth is definitely crying out…but I wonder if most of us are too preoccupied to notice?
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So very powerful! I despair at the virtual cocoons so many live in.
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I do as well. Sigh. Thanks for the comment!
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