"environmentally" poems
_las mujeres nacen de la tierra en la gloria de la más alta_
dys·to·pi·an/disˈtōpēən/adjective: dystopian:
relating to or denoting an imagined place
or state in which everything is unpleasant or bad,
typically a totalitarian or environmentally degraded one;
_"the dystopian future of a society bereft of reason"_
noun: dystopian; plural noun: dystopians:
a person who advocates or describes
an imagined place or state in which
everything is unpleasant or bad;
"a lot of things those dystopians feared did not come true"
[A dystopia from the Greek δυσ- "bad" & τόπος "place";
alternatively, _cacotopia, kakotopia_],
or simply anti-utopia; a community or society
that is undesirable or frightening; It is translated
as "not-good place" & is an antonym of utopia,
a term coined by Sir Thomas More
par·a·dise/ˈperəˌdīs/noun
noun: paradise; plural noun: paradises
in some religions; heaven as the ultimate abode of the just,
heaven, the kingdom of heaven, the heavenly kingdom,
Elysium, the Elysian Fields, Valhalla, Avalon;
"the souls in paradise"
the abode of Adam and Eve before the Fall
in the biblical account of Creation;
the Garden of Eden/noun: Paradise, Eden
"Adam and Eve's expulsion from Paradise"
an ideal or idyllic place or State;
"the surrounding countryside is a streetwalker's paradise"
Utopia, Shangri-La, heaven, idyll, nirvana;
"a tropical paradise"
bliss, heaven, ecstasy, delight, joy,
happiness, nirvana, heaven on earth
_a ********** who seeks customers on the street_
"this is sheer paradise!"
Middle English: from Old French paradis,
via ecclesiastical Latin from Greek paradeisos
‘enclosed royal park,’ from Avestan pairidaēza ‘enclosure, park.’
_Superficies terræ puella_
Aug 29, 2018
Aug 29, 2018 at 2:28 PM UTC
This was written a few Septembers ago. Walking on the streets of a now deserted beach island, only the leaves, in various states, to keep me company.
September,
walk with me,
under bridges of wedding tree canopies,
still green aplenty,
tho subtle marked for change,
making summer illusions,
environmentally unsustainable.
September,
stroll on pathways
of lesser, off the track, shaded lanes,
the sun blocker trees wear new necklaces,
brown and yellow diamonds,
a coming attraction of
their denouement,
their denudement.
The September trees are:
Ever so slightly stooped,
bent with weight of a surety,
knowing with high certainty,
their future, bleak,
bowed and drooped,
discouraged by the
cold travails soon to arrive.
Living in the recent past,
I am dressed inappropriately,
white tee and shorts,
past pretender,
still dressed in my
Gap issue summer uniform,
summer suspended animation.
Island streets are de-humanized,
gone home are the children,
newly fallen leaves have,
their place, taken.
The leaves are:
magically organized along
the sidelines of empty streets,
quiet stadiums of would be
kid's touch football fields.
browned, crisp and soulless,
first greet this solitary stroller,
like a cheering throng of ghosts,
celebrating a sighting -
man, as a seasonal fossil,
one that still is living
and worth reminding, yet
human too shall pass when
his fall arrives.
the leave's cheers make over
into jeers and mocking laughs:
Oh humans, they say,
your summer songs naive,
mais tres charmant.
On Crescent Beach,
the driftwood sadly forlorn,
looking more adrift than ever,
for no one passes to express
admiration at the past seasons
Nouveau Expressionism,
an objet d'art lonely,
for the beach gallery shuttered,
raising questions existential.
Is driftwood on the beach sans
human admiration,
art, truth or refuse?
I am looking backwards as the
Earth moves forward.
My own axis, my eyes,
conscientious objectors
refuse to be pressed
into service of the seasons.
No, no,
to involuntary servitude,
to rotation and revolution.
Nature's witnesses,
trees and leaves write
their own poem,
of foolish men who:
Bow and droop,
discouraged by the
travails soon to arrive,
Delaying their own fall,
finally shed summer delusions
like leaves upon the ground,
summer poetry silenced,
summer suspended, no more.
Dec 7, 2013
Dec 7, 2013 at 8:06 AM UTC
"What are toxic time bombs?
I wonder, with no aplomb,
Old garbage and refuse tips,
Legacy landfills, full of blip,
Damaging environmentally,
So much for sustainability,
All the overflow of society,
How do we correct such wrongs?
All these toxic time bombs..........
May 22, 2016
May 22, 2016 at 5:25 PM UTC
Jack and Jill
Went up the hill
With Bill And Ted
To buy two bottles
Of mineral water.
Jack and Jill
Came tumbling down
Fatally cracking their heads open
And the local council was done
For corporate manslaughter.
But Bill and Ted
Came down on their mountain bikes
With the mineral water
towed on a skateboard.
And having buried Jack and Jill
At an environmentally friendly funeral
They headed for the Amazon
On solar powered surfboards.
Thus they concurred
This was yet again
As vinegar
Bed and
Brown paper-free
As there ever could be
Excellent Adventure.
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 8:49 AM UTC
We think we're so different.
because we have piercings
or an iphone/blackberry
wear jeans not skirts, skirts not jeans
only shop at local markets, only buy the brands
eat organic
or vegan
or total junk
wash our hair with what's cheap
or environmentally friendly
or not at all
because we listen to folk, not rap
ska, not rock
talk a certain way
or partake in certain hobbies
have skin, instead of fur or bark
see more colourfully, but have **** nightvision
because we have warm blood
because we are human.
We think that this is individuality, but it's really all a lie.
A lie to keep us docile and passive..
To keep us buying **** we don't need,
but making us believe
that we do
Guarding us from that destructive unpredictable mother
of ours
until we don't even think of ourselves as animals anymore.
Until we think we're Kings.
To be you, you just have to be you.
Scratch that.
You just have to be
Because what is "you" anyway?
A pronoun
to keep you
away from me
and we
and us
together.
To force you into the lie of language,
because we all know that what truly speaks is our hearts
but we would never admit it
because then we would be too emotional
too sensitive
not cold or impersonal enough
to fit in.
And that's all we really want, right?
To belong?
Well, I'll tell you something:
there is a way to fit
to belong
to live.
And that is to not fit.
Don't define yourself by these labels
or this music
or that boyfriend.
Define yourself through your ideas
your ambitions
your immaterial desires.
Take out the you and become a we,
and we will be,
just be,
together.
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 10:45 PM UTC
There ain't real salary, wages, or full time
only disgruntled currency and
spoiled company that left the
milk out after breakfast while flashing
Nike sneakers, Motorola phones, burying
a forgotten geometric axiom, bestowed
with several hammers, in the
place where angels fall from trees
when you shake up their limbs ,
threaten to pull their hair. Sleeping used
to be a victim-less crime until I left
you swinging all by your lonesome
even when dad was shaking me awake
at two after two. Noon. I
was up, down, in and backed out sideways
through a diagonal cave that
was flooded by Europeans
who lost their leather shoes
trying to find Truth by
shutting themselves inside out
Even if God turns out to
be dead or under a trance
because he found his true love
wearing ***** pants, folded backwards
and frayed at the shins, while
she's got holes on inside her
thighs and the final schema,
parallel to the referee
signalling for the bell that's
situated behind environmentally
friendly nuclear bombs that
Bin Laden used to get at a discounted
price and sold them to America
marked up 3 fold. They'll burn medicinal
plants besides the **** in your
backyard and feed us cancer while
selling us over-priced tickets to
watch over-paid men play with
***** while those on wall street
pull out their carving knives
on the turkey that was too dried
out that upon entry it burst
into a double helix of poisonous
rat-tails that fell off Zeus when they
shattered his lightening in the sand
and opened the glass to the forbidden
triangle of the man with ***** soiled
wrinkled hands, placing his spine out for all to see
Apr 13, 2013
Apr 13, 2013 at 2:17 PM UTC
I have never liked the term
"sloppy seconds"
I believe that we renew ourselves with each love
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 12:51 AM UTC
It has been brought to my attention by Elvis fans,
not to mention a slew of phone calls from irate Elvis impersonators
that my last poem was very insensitive.
For that I would like to apologize.
I would also like to set your minds at ease and inform you
that in no way were any corpses harmed in the writing of...
"Are You Lonesome Tonight" (AKA Digging On Elvis)
Although Elvis didn't hold up so well
on the trip back to Graceland...
As luck would have it though Walmart
was having a special on large trash bags.
Two for one! And the environmentally friendly ones too!
We all know how hard it is to find those on sale!
Now where was I...
Oh Yea!
So we were able to get every last piece of Elvis
safely back to his final resting place.
Once again let me apologize for any harm I've caused
the hundreds, no let's make that thousands...millions
of Elvis fans and Elvis wannabes.
Sincerely yours and a fan myself,
Mike
P.S. I'm also somewhat of an Elvis impersonator:
Pass me one of them there jelly doughnuts will ya...
Pretty good uh?
Maybe you have to be there...
Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 8:15 AM UTC
Silence speaks —
its say beheld in its
own truth laid bare
Its voice is deeply felt
but rarely revealed
in the tight economy
of considered words
it quietly whispers —
The reality it bares,
soundlessly eroding with a
shameless emotional deluge
that rivers through
the poet's heart
When you feel alone
in a crowded room,
you overhear the drone
a racing heartbeat ...
When you're
going down the road
feeling bad, chasing
the centerline,
reckoning some kind
a life passing by
out the rolled down
window ;
hearken in nature's
tone poems
blowin' in the wind
It was thence
i came to know
my sum of simple truth:
Organically self-wrought
Environmentally molded
from the clay of life
a survivor of many
a passing storm
Season's change,
water seeks its own level
The silt does not get to say
how far down stream
the river carries it
and we still wind up
in the same old place
parsing the watermark
stains of time
and a poet — is not a word
i'll longer use to describe
who i've become
harlon rivers ... December 7th, 2018
Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 2:49 PM UTC
These are the teaching of a peaceful warrior
Today, I saw three children burn, six buildings fall and nine families cry as twelve people died.
But **** it!
I’m western,
It’s all cool.
I’ve got drinkable water,
I’ve got central heating ,
I’ve got a National Health Service,
And an education from a proper school…
Regardless of the fact that I arsed about and played the fool.
I’ve got a sorted life.
And the most I have to worry about is an unloved wife,
Or monotonous conversations about other people’s strife.
But maybe I’m wrong?
Maybe I’m repressing the depressing parts of my day?
Maybe I should open up to the possibility that I am after all human and that it’s a part of our humanity not to like my next-door neighbour just 'cause he smiles funny?
But I guess that’s what we do.
We stigmatise, bastardise and anyone who doesn’t match up in our eyes.
So why don’t we stop?
Why can’t we feel safe from the cops?
Why can’t we trust the government to protect our jobs?
I think I know why…
‘Cause it’s a fake system,
Built on the belief that we’re all equal.
Well…
Some more than others.
And if you’re more well off then them,
Then **** your brothers!
So let’s start a revolution.
Let’s cut down pollution both environmentally and mentally,
Let’s free the oppressed and resolve this mess,
Let’s finally get off our chest the injustices of our generation and reform this nation based on equality, sustainability and chivalry.
Not bigotry, frivolity and humility.
And what of the military?
We make of them what you will,
But someone who volunteers to ****
Is either messed in the head or run out of thrills.
But think of it this way,
A workforce of a hundred thousand strong,
Who may not be aware of what they’ve done,
Can transform this world both homeland and foreign.
Commit our military to sustainability.
If they want to serve their country then go build wind farms and H E Ps in plenty.
Still I know what your thinking,
None of this is realistic.
Especially now the economy’s sick.
And whomever we vote… We’re governed by ******
So let’s turn over this government,
Let’s have a proper – civil – war.
But instead of roundheads and sabres,
We’ll strike and protest across cities and acres.
‘Cause the rich and powerful have no sway,
When the people who generate their wealth, get in their way.
But enough of my rants… what’s your say?
Aug 29, 2010
Aug 29, 2010 at 7:30 PM UTC
At a funeral recently, a cremation along with my young niece
Whose a Vegan and very environmentally conscious
I was telling her "I wouldn't like to be cremated, it's too much like 'going to hell' to me"
Then she says she'd like to be cremated herself, that it'd be her preferred choice, that it'd be the most environmentally friendly way to go
I said to her "Would you not like to be buried in one of those nice wicker basket type coffins that the environmental people like
I thought that's the kind of thing you'd be into"
She said No! I wouldn't like them, the thought of worms and other creepy crawlies crawling in on top of me, all over me Ugh! I couldn't bear that.
Oh I said, No! just give me a nice quiet church graveyard, lovely and peaceful
With the yew trees nice and shady and the birds singing softly, somewhere lovely and quiet way out in the country
It'd be so relaxing
"Well", she said,"you won't know, sure you'll be dead".
"My soul it'll be reposing", I corrected her cheerily.
Then I said "Y'know I think I saw this TV programme once where you could have music playing in your coffin
Something over in America, could only be in America LoL
I went on dreamily, "Y'know I think I'm getting younger as I grow older
I've put away all my old Black Sabbath records
Now I've started listening to Taylor Swift instead, she has some great songs that girl, great videos too
I think I'll have Taylor Swift singing to me in my coffin
I'll go boppin' into the next world, the next life with Taylor, hand in hand
I could even put some posters of her up on the inside of my coffin.
Look! I said to my niece pointing to a few hairs on the front of my head
I think my quiff it's starting to grow back again. Elvis here I come!!!
Feb 20, 2022
Feb 20, 2022 at 7:03 PM UTC
I suffer from/am blessed with synesthesia, I smell, taste, and feel color. Blue has always been vital to my being, whether it is the color of pajama sets and bed sheets, or speech bubbles on Facebook Messenger, I have grown too attached to blue that the blank whiteness of this document loses its neutrality and starts to hurt.
They say blue is a cold color, then they associate it with a feeling so strong that it has the same symptoms of a heart attack, they turn it into a synonym for heartbreak, and make it the sponsoring color of music meant for heartaches. I associate blue with hearts because I have a list of life elements and they are all blue: writing ink, oceans water, night skies, and I recently added to that list the sanctuary I made of your-my conversation. It is 3:57 pm and I am having the blues, listening to blues, thinking of blues. It is 3:58 pm and my body is burning, no amount of tears my eyes shed can cool me down so no amount of colorologists can convince me that blue is a cold color.
Two months ago, I discovered that the poor human eye was not able to distinguish between green and blue until recently, the poor human mind could not read blue, and I wonder if that means we only recently started to know grief.
I have grown too attached to blue but they opted for green in traffic lights. They preferred green to blue when it takes blue to make green; Blue is the parent. They favored green over blue when blue is the third primary color and the other two family members, feisty red and powerful yellow, are already present in traffic lights; Blue is the parent that never came home. Green stands for progress. Green is a sacred color in Islam. Green is the color of every “environmentally-friendly” label when mother earth is more blue than green, and I wonder if that means this planet has seen more grief than peace.
Aug 7, 2017
Aug 7, 2017 at 10:05 AM UTC
Poetry is an uncultivated field
With two gates,
And ten thousand farmers
Turning soil,
Planting seeds,
Using tons of fertilizer.
The weeding is endless,
The rows run in all directions,
Harvest is boutiful when tended.
It's environmentally friendly,
Ergo-perfect.
And there's a need
To keep the varmits out.
Let them prowl the perimeter,
Salivating.
Remember to shut the gate.
Aug 8, 2015
Aug 8, 2015 at 8:27 AM UTC
I'm raining,
Draining with flotsam,
Washing onward
To the gutter.
I'm decomposing,
Recomposting
On the truck
To the dump.
I'm recyclable,
Reuseable.
Re-fashion me
For a different life.
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 5:29 PM UTC
Fire for deadly hell
Fire for holy power
White for heaven when you die
White for doctors who don't let you die
Green for the environment
Green for environmentally toxic
Tears for sorrow
Tears for joy
This is the imperfect perfection of humans
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 11:45 PM UTC
"You aren't going to find Mr. Right at a bar"
That is what I am told
Of course I believe it
Where else shall I meet him?
Should I wear my hipster dress and sit at the local coffee shop,
Drinking herbal tea from environmentally friendly cups,
And hope the man of my dreams comes up and says,
"I love that book also you're intelligent and gorgeous and will you go out with me?"
No time for lounging at coffee shops
So maybe I'll frequent the....
Nope. Can't think of anywhere else.
Back to the bars I go!
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 11:27 PM UTC
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Nov 2, 2015
Nov 2, 2015 at 10:44 AM UTC
Dropping crops in the hottest bus stops riding in a drop top actin like I’m the Rock
White skin shinning at the shin dig with my dawg Jim, I’m grinning cause I’m winning
and my life is just beginning. Don’t let the grey hair fool ya, I be a cool brah with a tool kit
fix your drain pipe in the rain won’t complain, **** I don’t even need paid. sound insane?
Then run away, but if you stay you just may see the day when money fades away
Replaced with face to face interpersonal rela –tionships… spinach dip? Kung-Foo grip…
Please don’t trip cause I’m I be ripped like Snoop in the ‘09 coup de ville, I still drive an old ride
But its paid off and is environmentally soft, I mean it don’t pollute unless I have my boot
and sweet vermouth… that ain’t the truth I was a drinking youth left that **** back at the booth
now I only smoke on the herb and swerve through the herd not a star wars nerd but I no like the beep
beep beep, **** ain’t cheap gotta work too reap the benefits of this nation rise above your station
and start with contemplation, make a plan and take a stand be the man like the marvel cat Stan
see that’s a little nerdy but we all have those traits I just keep mine at bay saying praying is gay
middle finger swinging both this and that a-way. Truly do not give one **** bout your luck
of the rims on your truck, more impressed with duck eggs and the ruckus made when a barn gets raised
like I’m an Amish Bruce Wayne. Getting paid in meager wages still rocking a pager never wager on sport
teams and smudge with white sage.
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 4:23 PM UTC
Inhale nature's incense,
Fill with life
As since first breath,
And exhale.
Nothing disappears.
Where does love go?
A broken robin's blue
Beneath a fallen leaf;
The curling smoke,
A lap of shoreline suds,
The dust from fallen stones.
Where does love go?
The pounds we shed,
The worry we dread,
And all about me's thin,
Heaviness dissipates.
Where does love go?
Beads gather on my brow
Then rivulet down my nose,
Drops like autumn roses.
Where does love go?
I hurt a friend,
His pain was real,
My remorse reached his ears,
I saw his pain disappear.
But where does love go?
It's not recyclable, reuseable,
But environmentally friendly:
It's measured like a tailored suit
No one else can wear.
An exclusive gift,
Free as loaves and fishes.
Where does it go?
It sates, some stays,
Some grows, then fades;
It's quantity unmeasured.
But where does love,
That all time love,
That one time love,
Where,
Where did it go?
Jul 17, 2015
Jul 17, 2015 at 10:12 AM UTC
It's ironic - you're not environmentally conscious——
And don't forget, baby, you're the one who said you want this
You wanna date her, but then you claim you've had it,
So you return like I'm made of paper or plastic
Crumble me up and throw me away
Or repurpose my presence, you wouldn't want me to stray
and try to salvage what's left of my shattered broken pieces
Keep me compacted tight, make me believe I'm beneath this
Shred me, burn me, then keep my remains
Just to piece me back together how you want me in your brain
One day you'll lose me, I'll become biodegradable,
and you'll try to reuse me only to realize I'm not disposable
I'm not the insulated coffee cup you settle for when you're in a rush
In fact, keep this up and I'll be ice cold to the touch
Cut down tree after tree then wonder why you can't catch your breath
Dug yourself into a landfill trying to avoid your death
Consume me, then remove me, keeping pieces each time
But you can take it all, the soul you know's no longer mine
Dec 3, 2016
Dec 3, 2016 at 7:14 PM UTC