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Brian Turner Jan 2021
I'm picking litter
To clear out the litter in my head
To clear out what was said

With a robot arm
I mean you no harm
It's a mental need
To sow new seed

The needs of the planet
Are called out by the Goddess Tanit
Let's gather more litter
And afray from being bitter
Armed with remote arm I've become a litter picker and picked up a huge bag of stuff on my street today. Interestingly many of the pieces are the same leading to the conclusion only a few are spoiling

it for the many.
Brian Turner Jan 2021
My destiny is becoming quicker
I'll bound to be a middle aged litter picker
I see the cans and mackie dee's wrap
I see the hedges full of crap

I walk around the block 'n shake my head
I come across discarded plastic 'n shake with dread
The old woman waddles with her ID badge
I'm on a mission, watch out Madge

I envisage buying the remote grabber
You know the one that'll make me madder
All I need next is a bag
To pick up the sea of discarded ***

I see an old guy bending over
Perhaps he's checking that there is some clover
Perhaps he's comes to get rid of blue
No, no, no, no he's a middle aged picker too
On my daily walk I belive my destiny is now to become a middle aged litter picker, give in, give in they call to me :)
neth jones Nov 2020
a short ways from town
and our species ceases
nature has the lay
the landscape is not our charge
i recover an empty beer bottle
amongst some frosty sedge
Jennifer Mar 2020
concrete castles, brick battlements,
chimneys billowing black smoke.
sky, leaden and forever dull;
this is the city of the guls.

perched upon red brick walls
and slated rooftops
they unleash their cries of battle
and dive, strafing as they fly;

gutting wheelie-bins, squabbling
over human trash and muck.
this is treasure to the guls,
their feathers diseased and their

necks sporting plastic trophies.
they ****** from grubby human hands
and swallow all they can;
their gullets hold no guilt or shame

for the human filth called 'man.'
the guls know their city: every cranny
and every nook. they have always ruled
from their royal perches:

ruthless, ***** and proud. they look
upon human men with beady eyes
as they leave humble offerings,
and they cackle

chorusing with their high-pitched
squawks. for humans are
mere pests
among those mighty guls.
haven't written in a while! go easy on me ;) thank u to Jolyon for supporting my poetry n for helping me with this one <3
Emma Langford Nov 2019
Momma always reminded me to  “Keep the forest clean” when we went up to our cabin.
“Keep the streets clean” when we went into the city.
“Find the source of the problem,” she said.
“find the litter. Once you’ve found it, clean it up and the world will be a little prettier.”
Eventually, even though I tried hard, the beaches were still too ***** for momma. She took her own instruction and found the source of the problem. She found the litter. Once she’d found that, she cleaned it up and the world was prietter again.
Carl D'Souza Jul 2019
A parent in a supermarket aisle
slaps her toddler hard and
the child screams in pain and shock.

A teenager walking along a busy street
drops the wrapper of his chocolate-bar
on the footpath.

A woman in a cinema-theatre
in the middle of the movie
calls on her mobile-phone
her son to tell him about the movie,
disturbing the other movie-watchers.

A man walking his dog along a street
takes his dog off the leash and
the dog barks aggressively and lunges
at frightened pedestrians.
neth jones Mar 2019
You know you are wrong
when you bed me in our own litter
and The Feaster raises its head
to feed our relations with its attention
We persist
and you're having none of my boring objections
This bed has become a field
of mammal ply and spell craft
We sign out glyphs
in energies and positionings
In The Feasters eyes
we have meaning
we are positive
we glow for it
Feathers from air
we tap out
with a shared vocal hark crash the mind ;
plan flown on
an excercise of oblivion
Criminal tide rising
to feel upon the doggy moon
When The Love has only known The Night Time
with little illumination
the revealed is a frightful thing ;
a Medicine and a Leviathan
Juhlhaus Feb 2019
I sat outside today eating
Sushi and miso soup in the sun
Some squirrels came by
And stared at me hopefully
I put a bit of miso soup in the lid
And set it out for them
But they weren't interested
Then a gust of cold wind blew the lid over
And the soup was spilled
One of the squirrels went for the crumbs
In an old potato chip bag instead
A somewhat poetic anecdote from my lunch hour.
Anya Sep 2018
When I was but a child
To litter seemed a scandelous crime
As we were taking a walk one day
I vowed
That I’d bring
My plastic grabby tool out
And clean it all up
We got home
Milk and cookies
Was all it to took
For me to forget
A couple of years later
I saw a piece of plastic in our yard
I picked it up
Brought it home
And disposed of it
Feeling great about myself
The year after my brother happened to have a park cleanup
At his school
I had time
So I thought,
Why not?
I came along
Used funky tools
Counted each piece I picked up
Feeling good about myself
Then I went home
To eat some cookies
The next time I saw a piece of trash,
I acknowledged there wasn’t anything much I would do about it
After that I stopped noticing all together

They instill the knowledge in kids
That littering is bad
But just words
Are words
Until we put in a team effort
Rather than acknowledging others will do it for us
Or that it’s too hopeless
Nothing will ever get done
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