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Terra Levez Sep 2020
It was funny
How as I stepped into my city

With its blackened air beating my face
  each breath a war with chemicals

With dust, grime and garbage at every street
  and shops which no one ever enters

With all the noise and clamor of traffic
  and the neon lights which blind my eyes

It was funny really
How much I had missed my ugly city
My Dear City,
For every time I come back to you
Pockets Aug 2020
Cows graze in the grass
Caterpillars eat leaves
Humans ate the whole world
Turning God’s oasis into a feast
ManxPoetryGuy Aug 2020
Cars flying by like Airplane’s in the Night

Create a stream of colour, like an ocean of Light.

Firefly backlights swim on a toxic cloud of Blight

Leading me down their path of Flight.

I- Oh, the path is closed.

End of the Road.
I’ve been gone for a while, hope to get back to writing now I’ve got my creative juices flowing.
William Marr Jul 2020
you slow feet that walk step by step

be quiet and move aside



make way for the wheels in fast approach

blowing horns and puffing black smoke
Cox Jul 2020
The city a polluted mess,
yet;
flowers still grow here.
Asif Iqbal May 2020
Four men from the break of dawn
With axe, hacksaw and *****,
Back and forth swaying their head,
And with their mighty brawn
Were hacking down a giant factory
That took small space on earth
Nurtured by air, water, soil from its birth,
Finally it was razed with great victory.
It was a factory which produced oxygen
That could not be gauged by men.
It provided food and shelter
To many creatures without ever to falter.
Without asking for anyone's labour
To them it did unconditional favour.

After a few days came there many men
To build another giant factory again.
They with great vigour cleared the sod
Built a factory with bricks and iron rod.
It was a factory that took over large area,
Workers feared diseases in their trachea
For it ceaselessly vomited black smoke;
By its noise neighbours to their horror awoke.
burning rain forests
wild animals with shrinking space to live
growing air pollution
smog in major cities
more than 3,5 million deaths
     due to respiratory diseases
global warming
new insects and other beasties
    in the formerly cooler regions
extreme hurricanes  rainstorms  heatwaves
excessive use of fertilizers by agro-industries
bees are dying
blossoms are left unpollinated
biodiversity is in a flat spin
deserts keep growing globally
fossile fuels are still polluting the air
curious dolphins die in the water of the Thames

after so far hundreds of thousands died of Covid-19
it is high time to see the larger picture
to comprehend interactive phenomena

the pandemic brought earth a little recovery time
the waters have cleared
you can actually see fish in the canals of Venice
satellite pictures show clear air over metropolises

suggesting: the new normality after the pandemic
must be significantly different from the old one

do we really need hundreds of thousands to die?
does it need a virus for us to understand

that we need a different relationship to nature?!!
The prophet ordered
To wish your hand
And get wished your members
To clean up
Your out appearance
As well as your heart

Wish as you perform a pollution
As you will pray before you eat and after
Your member will clean

When you hear someone ill
Tell him to be in
His home and not be out

The ill or sick must not come
Or visit the right and healthy one
To keep the people so cured

If the pest is ascended
At any land
God may keep every land
One must not get at
This causality land
To keep the society sound

And one does not visit
To be safe and right
If one has cured
God prevents every worst
And the cure is not advanced
And he gets dead
With great faith and patient
He will be considered as martyr at the battle
Who fights against the bad enemies
Or he defends his wealth
Or fights to protects his sons
Or his beloved wife
Who carries every smart sense
He will be at best heavens
That is the brief of the prophet tales
this bad things which occur to world must give us the signs to prtect ourselves from every harm and follow the instruction from the wise and good persons who has deal with clear and the upper spirit
Manda Kolav May 2020
Tweet tweet! what a beautiful bird I am,
The sun a yellow comb, strokes
My little juniper tree and me.
La-dee-da.

I’ll fly across
The stone yew and its chuffing
Fugue.

I’ll watch the
Shotgun wedding of
smoke and leaves.

I'll watch their breathes
Catch and stumble
While the chimney boys sing
And the choir boys weep.
La-dee-da.

Filthy bird song! They shout
Like bullets.

As I fall onto my mother's nest.

She’ll unfold her downy hands
And there in the tickled pits of her palms,
Will splutter and wail
A filthy black bird
With its filthy smoked cloak

And
Her eyes will glaze,
Returning my dismal hums. She
Will fetch a shiny name for me
In the cracks of bourgeois cobble.
****!

And it will all just be a joke
La-dee-da

And I will be a joke
La-dee-da

And I will stretch my wings
and

drown.
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