Ben H.

One Last Chance

Shell tells us to trust them as they drill further north,

to hold the life of the arctic in the palm of their hand.

Where was this responsibility in Nigeria,

where you turned a blind eye as you destroyed their coastline,

impoverished their people, and decimated their wildlife?

When you left the forests so stained with oil

that even your money couldn't soak it up.

So devastated, that the rivers were turned to black,

And the grassland reduced to barren dark wastelands.

Where were these safety measures when you ran

aground the first time you tried to drill in the arctic?

Left your drilling rig and its 150’000 gallon cargo to fend for itself...

Don’t let this go forward, it's just not worth it.


 

Waves laced with black

skies tinted forever more

glaciers a distant memory

fresh fish an unsalted desire.


 

A salmon washes up beneath my feet

to rest atop the rocky tar covered shore

I take a deep breath of the sea air

and throw it to the sea birds

as I watch my home turn to sour.

Yet no birds are there to catch it.

No seals will eat it whole.

No, that’s gone now, taken away forever,

and replaced with black gold.


 

The dark clouds billow high

cloaking the sun from the earth.

The seas sick of abuse,

warm, acidic to the touch.

The rivers are piled high with trash,

un-cared for, unseen,

left to fester and rot.

The air, thick and stiff, sickening.

Yet we burn on.


 

Fleeing reality, as if we can outrun it.

Hiding in the shadow of anything that will deny its existence.

Unwilling to take action out of indolence and fear.

We act as if our guns can shield us,

as if bullets can stop our our uncertain future.

Shield us from the nauseating smog.

Our oil spilling free, poisoning the oceans for you and me.

The residual ashes

Left behind by our cars.

The toll of our greed.

We need to heed.

we need to redo,

patch over our scars.

so the smog will never shield us from the the stars.

 

What makes us, humans, so desperate and weak that even after we have seen the impact we can create? We will deny it.

Why are we so weak that we don't have the strength to stand up and say, “This is enough, we have to change our ways.”?

We always tell ourselves that we need to go green, but we don't just because we couldn't bother, and it sounds like too much effort.

Climate change is on our doorsteps, hopefully we don’t wait until it’s inside before we take action, before it's too late.

 

Dry cracked earth now consumes the land.

Parched of every last drop to water our thirsty crops.

Pumped until all that came up was sand

Until the rivers dwindle in size.

The trees reach their demise, as their roots are left to dry.

The land turned to sand-dunes, burying their grand remains.

The snow no longer has the might to last the summer months,

Supply us as it always should.

This is what we are left with, a sad slow death if we don't unite.

Unite for a better, wetter good.

 

Garbage piles high

So high it scrapes the sky

breaching the forests, coating its floor

Leaving it filthy, our leftover waste

Pushed to the side, in our haste

In our haste to forget our destruction

In a haste to forget that it's our ignorance

which is killing our planet.