The Tree
I heard the tree speak to me.
It must have been a dream.
We all know plants don’t speak.
It spoke in a deep, rich voice,
calm, with it a feeling of deep understanding.
I could hear the chainsaws ringing
in the background as the tree spoke.
“You know”, he said, “to quote the old song,
‘You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone’.
“Hell, I already miss me and I’m still standing
here.” On this day though the chainsaws
are a little too close for comfort.
“Just a little word to the wise.
I’ve been here for a long time,
or it would be a long time if I were human.
I’ve been standing here drinking in the sun,
carbon dioxide, sweet, sweet water.
It has been so beautiful here on this hill
especially as I grew taller, could get up
where the air tastes better.
I’ve been able to see, taste, hear a lot
from my vantage point.
I can tell you that the CO2 levels are
rising. Not a bad thing if you’re a tree
mind you, but you mammals? You’re
going to be in a pretty mess
in not too long a time.”
I could hear the chainsaws getting closer.
I was starting to like the tree.
His voice was so otherworldly.
I guess it was otherworldly.
What I mean is, I haven’t been to another
world. I don’t have another world.
He started talking again, “I’ve seen my fellow
trees cut before. I don’t think it hurts too
much. As I see the houses getting closer to
me, the air getting dirtier, the noise,
oh, the noise. Maybe I’ve just run my course,
had enough, time to check out.
you mammals though, thinking you’re making
things better for yourselves.
I’ve heard the ocean whisper, heard
the glaciers scream. You’re in a bad
place getting worse. You had better run.
Where are you going to go though?
Do you have another world you can go to?
If you do are you just going to mess it up
like you’ve done to this one?”
He was asking me a question.
I told him that I know I don’t have
another world. I apologized for the
chainsaws. I told him that if I could I
would stop them. Of course, that was
a lie. Of course, I might think about
stopping them, but even if I could
Would I?
Remembering the 21st Century
I hear the 21st Century.
Whispers of Taliban, Nine, One, One
We never used to hear about Iraq.
Well. There was that one time back in the 90s.
We were hoping that was all done.
It seems like you never hear about
Al Qaeda anymore.
What happened to those guys?
I guess they are sitting on
their front porches
polishing their shoes
telling stories about old Osama,
how dad was part of the original Jihad,
running from the Americans,
hiding in caves.
Those were the days.
George Bush.
Remember him?
I think Barack Obama
stole his thunder.
Now every day all we ever hear about
is Donald Trump.
Some people like him.
A lot of people don’t.
Whether you like him or
not - Trump is in the headlines every day.
He is always leaking
avarice,
revenge on someone.
I used to believe Barack Obama.
at least he had good intentions.
You don’t hear about New York
the way you used to.
Now they talk about
Seattle.
What a foreign place
that is.
On TV you see the
Space
Needle.
Everyone knows what Puget Sound is,
Mount Rainier like there weren’t any other mountains
near Seattle?
I heard yesterday
the ice caps are melting faster.
They keep saying the ocean
is getting deeper.
I’m not.
When I go to the beach
It looks about the same.
It didn’t snow as much.
Maybe that’s why this new bug
cropped up?
What do they call it?
Covid 19?
Someone is going to make a movie
called Covid 19.
Maybe it will have witches in it?
The Word Vandal
You said it was a place
You had already been to.
It was a place you did not care
To revisit.
It was my place.
I had scrawled my name
All over this place,
Had written notes that were tacked
Into the air.
You said that the letters in the notes
Were badly written.
You put on a show of not caring.
I had spent a lifetime
Scrawling the words onto paper,
Framing them neatly,
Hanging them in the air
Everywhere I went.
You knocked them down
Wherever you could find them.
A word vandal,
A note breaker,
Even now I see a line of words
Hanging crooked in the garden
Where you have been
Sitting, weeping, laughing
Knowing all last night.
The Black Hole
I am falling down a black hole.
The gravity squeezes my internal organs.
I see my favorite stars disappearing
as I fall deeper.
My head feels like a too ripe tomato.
I just saw an asteroid
whiz by me.
My fourth-grade teacher flies by,
a paddle in her hand,
frown on her shriveled face,
words hunkered down on
a chalk board in back of her.
Speed is picking up now.
I narrowly miss the Milky Way,
The Big Dipper, Orion.
I begin to weep.
The tears brush my face
Hot with regret.
There is a baseball mit,
A hardball, a bat that I could
Never hit the ball with.
Down I fly, into darkness
A gravity greater than I have
Ever experienced.
My father is there.
He wonders why I never hit the ball,
Why it always slips from the mit
His face is kind
Takes his genetic responsibility
Seriously.
Saturn is slipping away in my memory
While Jupiter dances
Past my athlete brother.
He stands tall in the black hole
While I am compressed until
I cannot be seen.
I am falling down a black hole.
Can you see me?
I am sobbing now, cannot stop
Falling down.
Bionote
Steve Nebel is a poet, and songwriter who lives in Tacoma, Washington. He has been called an "environmental" poet, referring to his early work. His poem, "Chelsea Manning, Wikileaks Heroine" was published in 2015 in "Heart Online". In 2014 his reading of his poem, "Cityscape", was featured in the Laureate Listening Project, a poetry project initiated by Tacoma's then poet laureate, Luca Smiraldo.
He was educated in the "Bohemian Arts" at The Evergreen State College in Olympia, WA. He also writes songs, and sings them with his wife Kristi, and the Americana band, "Cosmo's Dream" which includes Kristi, and his friend, guitarist, mandolinist, vocalist and songwriter, Gen Obata. His latest project is a chapbook, "Remembering the 21st Century".
He was educated in the "Bohemian Arts" at The Evergreen State College in Olympia, WA. He also writes songs, and sings them with his wife Kristi, and the Americana band, "Cosmo's Dream" which includes Kristi, and his friend, guitarist, mandolinist, vocalist and songwriter, Gen Obata. His latest project is a chapbook, "Remembering the 21st Century".
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