Happy Earth Day! To honor mother earth and national poetry month, we are launching a "nature poetry" challenge. Poetry can be a great way to process, think, and feel connected in the midst of this climate crisis. Submit original poetry about the natural world, or submit your favorite poem about human connection to nature, access to nature, intersectional relationships to nature, etc. Remember to email us (webteam@washington.edu) or tag us on Instagram and Twitter @UWOceanography.
This week's challenge dovetails with the College of the Environment's Earth Day activities. The College’s Diversity, Equity and Inclusion office is encouraging us to "Use #OnePlanetAllVoices and share your thoughts, photos, videos, art, poems or any resource to share what the environment means to you and your community.
Submissions:
My body is an aquifer
I store and transfer emotions
I keep happiness in my belly
I draw up on it when I need it most
Like a revivor
I also store sadness
I keep that near my heart
It seems they go together
When I am flooded with sadness,
It upwells into my throat
I cry out
I store sadness for years and years
It’s quite viscous
And so, it drains slow
But talking helps
I hold onto anger sometimes
Even though I would rather not
I hold it in my head
But I don’t keep it for long
Because the pressure inside
Will permeate out
Rapidly or all at once
At the cost of others
Now they have my anger
And I have guilt
I think guilt is my least favorite
But I hold so much
Guilt seems to mix well with sadness
It sits heavy in my chest
I don’t know how to get rid of it
Eventually it turns into shame
Now I change my mind
Shame is my least favorite
And for good reason
It makes me think that I am bad
And that’s a fact, for the shame tells me so
It sits unnoticed in my brain and ears
When shame is in my head,
It is hard to draw up on happiness reserves
-Emmet Bush
From Michelle:
''The "control of nature" is a phrase conceived in arrogance, born of the Neanderthal age of biology and the convenience of man.''
Rachel Carson (1907-1964), U.S. marine biologist, author. The Silent Spring, ch. 17 (1962).
Weird Bad Sad
Things are weird bad and sad.
I wake up every morning.
And I do work.
And I do school.
I accomplish what I need to.
And yet,
I don't make any progress.
stuck
trapped
stagnant
And so is everyone else.
But if everyone is
stuck
trapped
stagnant
Who is making progress?
Who is moving forward?
I feel like I did when I was younger.
So many ideas
unable to pursue them.
So many thoughts
no means or motivation to convey them.
So here I am.
stuck
trapped
stagnant
But at least
I'm not
alone
-Marissa Leatherman
