Formal Declaration of 9

By: Ken Scott
Los Angeles, California, USA

It is time for us to end this.
It is time for us to end the confusion,
the congestion, the hustle culture,
the vicious competition for survival,
and the monetization
of human life itself.
It is time for us to end this.
It is time for us to end the original greed,
the self-entitled avarice,
the violent conquests,
the hate, the wars,
the tortures, the rapes,
and the senseless slaughter,
time for us to end the shootings,
the hangings, the lynchings,
the burnings, the bombings,
the colonizations, the thefts,
the genocides, the ethnic cleansings,
and every last form
of for-profit dehumanization.
It is time for us to end the superstitions,
the religious excuses, the pious ignorance,
and the selfish blindness
that have maintained our bondage
to countless centuries of mortality,
time for us to end our enslavement
to instruments of death and destruction,
time for us to end our vulnerability
to the weapons that have been wielded
against us all,
time for us to end all empires
of oppression and exploitation,
once and for all,
so that humanity is truly
free.
When we know
who we really are,
this corrupt world
ceases to exist.
It is time for us
to Awaken.
We are the Infinitesimal Infinite,
the Silence of all sounds in One,
the Nothingness that is Everything,
the Briefest Eternity
and the Omnipresent Now,
the Singularity of Pure Consciousness
from Everlasting to Everlasting.
And it is time for us to end
this world of darkness,
so that the World of Light,
Peace, Empathy, Compassion,
Wholeness, Supernatural Being,
Eternal Truth, Eternal Life,
and Eternal Love
embraces us all.

We already know
what to do:
we choose
to BE.

Copyright (c) 2024, Kenneth Irving Scott, Jr., All Rights Reserved

About this poem of affirmation: Ken Scott
“Beyond all reasonable doubt, world events have reached a rather disturbing and pivotal point in the totality of human history.  From hostile wars of for-profit aggression to livestreamed genocides, the societies of this world have brought the entire collective of humanity to an unprecedented precipice.  And it is from this precipice that we either soar above these nightmares or fall headlong toward our own extinction.  I strongly believe that we have the ability to soar. Nevertheless, it requires an affirmation of who and what we are at our core, so that we may fulfill that path of enlightenment and ascension.  To that end, I wrote and recited a poem, entitled “Formal Declaration of 9,” intended for this crossroads, in the hopes that many others would likewise recite this poem between now and the end of the year 2025, toward awakening that enlightenment and ascension in the collective soul of humanity.”

Early Dusk

By John Pappas
Boston, Massachusetts, USA

early dusk
reaching into the warren
winter’s chill

Descendents of an Antiquated Paradigm

By Richard Grahn (Editor’s Contribution)
Evanston, Illinois, USA

the neverending TV screen
batters our brains with atrocities
conditions of pain and eternal strife
the knife of the tyrant’s bloody reign
we consume news without a fight
night after night in shock and awe
we sleep it off and return to the maw
of the daily grind
where we find ourselves miles
from the front
the battlelines drawn
so long ago
entrenched in our DNA
we cheer the forces of apocalypse
as if that could solve our complicity

from our State of Affairs
attention fixed
on the smoke and mirrors
we miss the fact
that we’re standing on a planet
our habits have battered and bruised
it doesn’t matter who wins the war
reset the board
move the pawns from dawn to dusk
we the pawns—sacrificed
on the altar of lust
lust for power and untold riches

do you see the hunger?
do you know the pain?
do you see the displaced?
feel the heat of the flames?
now comes the storm
the forest ablaze
the earth quakes
comes a tidal wave
dried up lakes
and melting glaciers
polluted streams
and rising seas

night has fallen on the carnage
of tomorrow
we’ve burned and hollowed
our legacy
does the world owe us
a second chance?
or maybe a third, or fourth, or fifth?
I lift my head from the mire
looking for answers
in the searching eyes
of a lost face
to share with them
this hallowed ground
to free us from this weight
this maelstrom
drowning hopes with hate

as the fog of war
surrounds us
hand-in-hand
let’s feel our way to the center of town
wake the neighbors
spread love around

what will break the despot’s will?
will it take a billion prayers?
how many faces to mend our wounds
projected on this earth?
when will this neglect end?
and when will we lay our weapons down
wrap our arms around each other
come together and defend the planet
share this tiny dot in space?

can the world ever become a welcome place
for every living creature?
it’s not a far-fetched notion
let’s stop this incomprehensible commotion
and pull the plug
on the idiot box rife with obnoxious news
choose a future solar bright
by changing the way we approach today
dawn always breaks the chains of night
light’s but a dream set free
in a world of possibility.

First Glance

By Florence Heyhoe
County Down, Northern Ireland

Looking at both cars, he doesn’t see any damage. His door barely touched the one alongside, but this was enough to awaken the roaring bull inside who—primed and looking for a fight—leaps to his feet shouting, ‘Go back to your own country. You’re not from here. You’re nothing but a f…ing paedophile.’

The situation heats up and becomes more threatening. He has the wherewithal to phone the police. While they wait, the antagonist draws blood by scoring his nose with his car keys.

‘‘Officer, this man here assaulted me.’’

october morning
a world so broken 
the ground bleeds

Late October

By: Steve Van Allen
Cincinnati, Ohio, USA, Earth

global warming?
a beautiful spring day
late October

The Blue Dot

Cloaked from earthling sight, two extraterrestrial fortune hunters gaze down at planet Earth.

“Which bit do you want?”

“I’d take the blue stuff but it’s so full of plastics that I’ll pass. How about you?”

“ I’d take the green-brown stuff but it’s overrun with pillaging apes. I’ll pass too.”

“ Let’s go find another trophy world and leave this one’s sun to evaporate away its atmosphere.” 

“O.K., pity though, it looked like such a precious blue gem on the trajector screen!”

ocean highway
too fast and busy
for humpbacks

Crunch

By: Theresa Cancro
Wilmington, Delaware, USA

the crunch
of gravel underfoot
stop-and-frisk

Wild Violets

By Theresa Cancro
Wilmington, Delaware, USA

wild violets
brushing her cheek
the shadow of a bruise

Selected poem, 7th Sharpening the Green Pencil Haiku Contest, 2018

Allegory

By: Steve Van Allen 
Cincinnati, Ohio, USA, Earth

I’ve lost so much: people, pets, keys, books. In the short time since settlers arrived, streams and rivers in the Alleghanies have lost too.

I am daily polluted by chemicals and plastics in my food and water. Streams are damaged by global warming, fertilizers, dammed rivers, and air pollution  effects us all. 

80% of all hellbender salamanders are gone, and like me they want to hide all day, take care of their young, and not bother anyone.

eventide
lonely swim
searching for peace

Depression Era

By Debbie Strange
Canada

Honourable Mention, 2024 Sonic Boom Annual Vispo Contest

Artist’s Statement:
A paper collage embellished with frayed burlap and fabric symbolizing how women learned to “make do” during the Depression Era. The grains of wheat and ration ticket represent food insecurity and the lack of the most basic items after countless farmers lost their land. The staple stitching works to bring these two themes together.

Ghost Gun

By: Debbie Strange
Canada

First Published: Human/Kind Journal, November 2020

Sunflower Fields

By: Debbie Strange
Canada

First Published: Frameless Sky, Issue 16, June 2022

Childhood

By: Fatma Zohra Habis
Algiers, Algeria

childhood
between war and sun
dreams

Ongoing War

By: Fatma Zohra Habis
Algiers, Algeria

ongoing war
a stranger digs the grave
for a stranger

Oriental Plane 

By Diana Webb
Leatherhead, Surrey, UK

It towers above the park this tree . An ancient haven with countless generations of birds to its name.  It teems with wildlife down through its roots.

Painters have painted it, poets penned poems on it, children danced and sang round the girth of its trunk. 

Now there are plans for this space with a landmark. High rise tower blocks. Multi-story car park. Big hotel. Lots and lots and lots of concrete which will always resound with the multi-wave echo of the crash of a tree. 

layered picnic rug
with shade of myriad summers
we shake out the tears

Rip-Off

By Bryan D. Cook
Orleans, Ontario, Canada

It’s a taboo topic in polite society, but the ads don’t hold their punches when it comes to extolling the virtues of triple-ply, soft and scented toilet paper as tested by a family of teddy bears! My own testing shows that I have to fold many pieces to gain satisfaction; using many rolls and thus increasing the company’s profits.

That is until I discover its high tensile-strength brand, 100 percent recycled with a promise to plant one tree per carton. No plastic wrapping and a fair price.

I’m so happy with this product that I write the company, congratulating on its commitment to ecological sustainability. A thank-you email from the quality control division asks for my home address so that a token of appreciation may be sent. This wasn’t my motive but, nonetheless, it’s a nice gesture.

Friends speculate that a tractor trailer may off-load a year’s supply on my driveway for all the neighborhood to share, or I may be subscribed to a lifetime of toilet paper.

Finally, a letter arrives enclosing a $5 coupon off my next purchase. Heavens, labour and postage cost more than that! And this largess is coming from a corporate giant whose website boasts at being “unapologetically human.” I’m left wondering if miserliness is one of its human traits.

Marley’s ghost
converts Ebenezer Scrooge
an unlikely tale

Marley’s ghost
       rattling the chains
       of corporate greed
       climate change
converts Ebenezer Scrooge
       threadbare apartment
       his inheritance
       under the mattress
an unlikely tale
       big pharma
       caring for addicts
       “Bah, humbug!”

Marley’s Ghost and Ebenezer Scrooge are characters from Charles Dickens’
A Christmas Carol, first published in 1843.

To Whom It May Concern

By: Joe McKeon

Available now at Red Moon Press -> To Whom It May Concern

In To Whom It May Concern, Joe McKeon brings the haiku form to bear on social issues in a format that both informs and engages. This work exemplifies the role poetry, particularly short forms such as haiku, tanka, and senryu, and more specifically, the voice of the poet, has to play in the future of this planet and the wellbeing of its inhabitants. I’ve had my copy for many months now and it is yet to make it onto the bookshelf. It keeps moving with me from room to room as I digest its contents on deeper and deeper levels. Every page, another eye-opener.

Richard Grahn
Founder, The Abstractaphy Initiative