Fahrenheit 36
Isulan, Philippines
2020, Senior, Poetry & Spoken Word
This poem is a typhoon.
Someday it will kill a god,
and drown his grave
under an infinite sky,
birthed from vapors
of machines he made
through centuries.
They scream till dawn,
and exhale with a thousand cigars
on suffused, summer air
generations would breathe
tomorrow.
*
This poem is a famine.
Someday it shall see bones:
acid-dissolved skeletons
dead of the light,
drifting in waters
beyond by 36 Fahrenheit.
A turtle finds her home
barren and calcified,
and mourns in a storm
the lives of her heart,
on warm, shifting currents,
and polar meltwater.
Where the sea breaks its back
on a plastic beach,
the sand boils her children,
their rhinestone eyes never to see
the dead-tossed waves
or Poseidon’s gates.
*
This poem is a war.
Someday it will end our mortal engines,
and in the sound and fury,
in vehement destruction,
the earth would unravel
from humanity’s derision.
For the ocean cannot propitiate
imperishably
when she lays dying.
With fleeting breath,
in the space between,
she begs.
We share the salt of her blood—
our mother.
She calls us,
with all the light we cannot see,
with hope and scars like wings,
one more time.
Reflection
Reflection
More than a year ago, my research colleagues and I found microplastics in a Yellow Fin tuna belly. Our feelings, though, were very mixed. We were elated that the study had finally concluded, and all those days of stressful brainstorming and cramming papers and meetings were finally over. But the reality that our results forced us to believe was anything but heartwarming. It made me realize just how expansive the effects of human activities were to our oceans, and now, we're seeing the consequences. 2 degrees. When I read that all it took for coral bleaching to occur was that seemingly small figure to add to the average water temperature of the area, how climate change is currently affecting our oceans made perfect sense to me. It also woke me up. I have to do something now that I know more than ever what is at stake. To anyone who manages to read this, I hope we all decide for ourselves that enough is enough. Beyond this contest, a critical problem exists. We can't just take oaths anymore. This demands action. It does not matter how extensive your personal response is to the problem. What's important is you respond, and you keep doing so. Let us be consistent.