“Writing On Water” By Odilia Galván Rodríguez

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Writing On Water

On March 11, 2011, the Tohoku earthquake devastated northern Japan and less than an hour after it hit, tsunami waves crashed Japan’s coastline. The tsunami waves reached run-up heights, which is how far the wave surges inland above sea level, of up to 128 feet and traveled inland as far as 6 miles. The tsunami flooded an estimated area of approximately 217 square miles. The number of confirmed dead surpassed 18,000. In addition to other very serious damage, the tsunami caused a cooling system failure at the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant, which resulted in a level 7 nuclear meltdown and release of radioactive materials. About 300 tons of radioactive water continued to leak from the plant every day into the Pacific Ocean, affecting fish and other marine life.

With strip mining, pipelines, fracking — for uranium, coal, gas, and oil — for nuclear power and other forms of dirty energy dependency, the fresh and salt waters all over this planet are threatened.

Again this year, we commemorate Fukushima, and focus our writing on water, because water wars are looming even more than ever. We stand with and give thanks for the Water Protectors and the Protectors of Earth all over this planet.

We pray the water, pray the planet. We pray for our lives.

Tlazocamati, thank you for reading and Ma Xipactinemi – Be Well.

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“In Solidarity with the Water Protectors” Leah Wiegel

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In Solidarity with the Water Protectors

Leah Wiegel

After you put the mace and hose down
After you followed orders
After you did your job,
and did it well
After you raise the taser to the face
After the shock leaves your grip
After the dogs are unleashed
and the flesh pierced,
and and the skin burnt, and the eyes red
After they fell down, hard, and you leave, proud
After your trucks roll away
and you take off the holster,
and hang up the vest, and lay down the gun
Do you go home to a wife?
Does she ask how your day was?
How do you answer her?
What do you say?

“Untitled”  By Jasmin Garcia

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Untitled

By Jasmin Garcia

If you love me, do not love me.
I am not somebody to love.
I am undeserving of kisses and warm hugs.
I am undeserving of dinner and a movie.

My mother is a Hurricane,
She birthed a Tornado.
I know what I am capable of doing.
I am a strong person
Because I have to be.
Nobody will be my strength.
Nobody could give me strength.

I am winds.
Powerful winds that drown men
Every so often
With a glare and if that doesn’t work
Then I smile.
I am youthful but toxic.
My soul is old but wise.
I am the rain.
Do not overdose on antidepressants,
I told you not to love me in the first place.
I will drown you
And everything that matters most.

I have a tendency
Of filling lungs with smoke and dust.
Do not breathe me
Thinking I am a cigarette to pleasure you
For 10 minutes.
I am not the smoke you crave.
I am a tornado.

If you love me, do not love me.
I am not somebody to love.
My spirit shows no mercy to your bones.

“Untitled” by Chuck Cuyjet

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Untitled

by Chuck Cuyjet

We woke up 49 years ago and the world was on fire. Today we wake to gassed children and wonder…

Someone asked the question
Who raised these crazed men
who gas children
who poison our air
who pour filth into our water
who fill our schools
with ignorance called knowledge
and who pontificate on their
own greatness?

We did.

No, of course not.
We shield
our loved offspring
with our own bodies
and love.
We teach them to respect
themselves, our values,
to work hard, to look
out for the other fella,
to protect our tribe,
And honor our god.

But as we look across
oceans, into the
hearts of darkness,
as we rattle our self-righteous
swords, do we seek justice
or vengeance, or glory?
The riches the few gather
befoul their souls yet
in our secret selves
we envy them their ease
and never question
the cost.

So we replicate it
in our screams and calls
to our god to punish
them and reward us,
the good fathers and mothers
who have no sin, no stain
for we gas no children
in our warm houses
in winter and cool our frosty
asses on patios in the summer
sipping tea with ice cubes
rum drinks mixed with faux
concern of deaths so far away.
We don’t gas children
We starve their souls
with the contempt for those
we arm.

“Water” by Jeff Cannon

 

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Water

by Jeff Cannon

water, I run you, splash you, drink you, wash with you swim in you, pee in you, brush my teeth with you flush you, sprinkle you, know you, forget you, abuse you leave you turned on, use more of you than i need to hear about what people dump into you that sickens you, kills you makes me an accessory to your murder the pillage that destroys your liveliness for my children and theirs
I‘ll try to save you
sometimes i forget i’ll respect you more, though, since so many don’t, just take advantage of you
i’ll tell others to remember you, take care of you recognize how dear you are for us to live, and never take myself or my kind so seriously
as to forget you, your life and the life you afford other creatures not
just those of my kind that take themselves as supreme beings
entitled to do whatever they want to each other, other creatures, you, our water

“Clear Gold” By Dee Allen

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Clear Gold

By Dee Allen

Seventy-one percent of Earth.
Sixty percent of us.

Gathering grey clouds
Streaks of lightning
Followed by thunder-roll—–
Gaia takes another shower
Cleansed each time, refreshed by this—–

Absorbing into leaves from rain
Deer lapping it up from woodland streams
Pathway to the safety of the river bottom
for swimming fish
Cities’ steel veins flow it through our faucets
Matrix of life, sated by this—–

Corporations
Monopolise
Keep private
What was formerly free—–
Sold back to us, plastic bottles of this—–

Fear lingers in hearts
In some who care
That in future wars,
Soldiers or drones will fight
To the death, final prize: this—–

Clear gold.

Seventy-one percent of Earth.
Sixty percent of us.

OF GREATER VALUE
THAN ANY
SOLID GOLD.

“Trouble… the Water” By Edward Vidaurre

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Trouble… the Water

By Edward Vidaurre

When a poor kid sees clean clear water
he envisions a treasure, a hope
have you ever seen a murky
opaque wishing well?

When a woman kneels
along rivers edge to wash her sheets,
she thinks, a new beginning, a cleansing,
when was the last time you washed your clothes in oil?

When a thirsty stray dog walks for miles
along the gutters of this nation
wishing to quench his thirst
where does he find relief?

When have you seen
dogs or cats, blood dripping
from their jaw hair
laying on your front porch content?

It happens, blood and oil mix with mother earth’s tears, and
we watch as it happens. Soon we’ll be drenched in oil
or blood, and water will be what we search for
at the bottom of our wishing wells.