The Tsunami

The Tsunami


Centuries of oppression

And the anger screams to the surface like a tsunami ready to destroy everything in its path

It is when the grounding she trusts deceives her

She is labeled the destructor of man, and his structures and celebrations

She is called a disaster

Yet she was once the ocean

The beautiful blue ocean,

And as long as they could take a dip,

Swim in her when they wanted,

As long as she looked pretty

And never caused anything more than a small wave

A wave that they could safely surf over, until it was smooth again, Calm again,

She was beautiful

She was the ocean they bought their mansions for so they could look at the view while they smoked their cigars and celebrated themselves, patting each other on the back

But when her plates were shifted

When her grounding was taken from her

When her trust was destroyed,

And her fury could no longer be contained

She would be called the enemy. The disaster.

The destructor of man

Nobody questioned what man had done

What sins he had committed to her earth,

Her soil, her nature

They only blamed her, named her,

And frantically scurried to dry land

To escape her and clean up her destruction,

So that man could continue, in his revolting dominant privilege.

Listen to her.  She must be heard.  She deserves to be heard.




N.E. Teeuw is a writer, poet and occasional songstress, who grew up in Melbourne, Australia. A writer of short stories, poetry and prose she has recently completed her first book titled One Hundred Valentines, which is a beautiful collaboration of poetry, painting and prose and a story of love, loss, sensuality, self-discovery and ultimately, self-love.

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