Poet Beth "Batyah" Elishevah Ginzberg expresses her creative poetic meditations about water as a very powerful atmospheric element of the environment. Ginzberg wrote these poems at the East Rogers Park Lake Michigan Beaches, on-the-spot, to experientially convey the full effect of the Great Lakes of Chicago, IL USA for your reading pleasure.

Sunday, September 8, 2019

HORRIFIC HURRICANES RAINSTORMS THUNDERSTORMS EARTHQUAKES TSUNAMIS

Image result for storm destruction

Our weatherman how do you fair? Fair weather today? Lots of rain uncontrollable lightening strikes golfers splits trees in half halves haves have not, has been's tsunamis oceanic tidal waves flooding earthquakes quivering shaking trembling fearfulness hide under a table a chair in the basement away from blasted breaking clashing damaging flying glass windows. Splinters of glass shards piercing cutting deep keep from getting blown over, a helicopter sent to capture, no boats here. 

A canoe a motorboat a cruise ship named The Titanic. Women and children first. A thirstiness of water to drink sink: water water everywhere but not a drop to drink. What is "natural" water, natural water is polluted water. To save Lake Michigan to donate money regularly an amount per month, still no fish, homeless fishermen without a bite to eat. A sickly seagull must instead of fish to eat garbage, the remnants of a Hurricane of Damage. Famished. Trashed abashed.

A Hurricane named Dorian, He has an eye in the middle of his forehead windy winds, winds horrific tearing apart everything in its way. Bahamas, no more mamas no pure mother's milk sink sunk splashed no more islands, smashed. North Carolina, no longer singing carols, uh yeah no line dancing either. Demolished, doomed, no houses no gardens the rich became poor. "After death you can't take it with you." A house no longer standing, wooden or brick the thunder lightening and rains were just too thick.

To pray not for water to pray for dry land, no more cornfields 'cept in midwestern fields, Iowa tornadoes mild as can be just a mosquito there sweetly swept away. A sweep with a dust mop, sins under a rug, to cuddle up in a cotton blanket like a coo-ing peaceful dove. Two doves in love!!

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