There Is No Escaping From The Garbage We Leave
At the end of any day,
A trash collector...
And someone else,
Who may have a Doctorate's degree...
Have the same thing in common!
Both have a lifetime association...
With the creation of garbage.
Whether that garbage is recycled or not!
Dropped on the street...
Or rolled up to put into one's pocket.
Regardless of 'who' is paid,
To pick their trash up...
Both can be observed,
Leaving something to forget...
To be hauled away from a curb.
And those perceptions of who we are,
With or without daily impressions to make...
Who we impress or charades we fake,
There is no escaping from the garbage we leave.
It's all over the place.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Allowing Us To Clear Our Heads
What I have done,
Personally...
To ensure the new neighbors,
Adhere to policies that have been in effect...
For many years,
Is to suggest and recommend...
Their children not smoke pot in the front yard.
Or put their trash on the curb,
For the garbage men to pick up the next day.
What I have done personally,
Is to show them how to put their trash...
In garbage bags FIRST.
And even though it has been slow for them to catch on,
The rest of the neighbors and myself...
Have agreed to meet the new residents,
In their backyard after midnight behind a closed and locked fence...
When all of the kids have been safely tied to their beds.
Allowing us to clear our heads and live together in peace.
'And you say you have a prescription for this? '
~I begged my doctor to find a medical need.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Bares Thru Us?
BARES THRU US?
by Alex Lewis
i'm taking out the TRASh (of society) :
the only way to set all the others free.
i will dispose of all of it:
those healthy in mind and body-fit.
in this, RUbbish, you won't find the needy,
only the selfish and the greedy.
i have no garbagE-collecting mechanism
to pick up all of the racism
i'll put them in the traSH bag next to the ignoramus.
i'm talking, of course, about the rich and famous.
at the request of the children,
i'll be rid of each republican.
finally, i can take the garBage out
before the scum see what's about.
now, everyone else will be at peace,
especially the lazy and the police.
i have only one word of warning for you all:
once again, the rUbbish bag will get full. ?
poem by Alex Lewis

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Loving That Taste For The Gutter
If they always call those they visit trash,
And on a daily basis they are around them.
What do they regard themselves?
Trash collectors?
Or recycled garbage...
Loving that taste for the gutter.
They can't leave it,
'Cause they come right back.
No matter what they call it they want it like that!
Because they love that taste for the gutter.
They love that taste for the gutter.
Whenever its suspected someone else will attack,
They will defend their trash with a coming back.
Because they love that taste for the gutter.
Yes they love that taste for the gutter.
They can't leave it,
'Cause they come right back.
No matter what they call it they want it like that!
Because they love that taste for the gutter.
They love that taste for the gutter.
If they always call those they visit trash,
And on a daily basis they are around them.
What do they regard themselves?
Trash collectors?
Garbage defenders?
Whenever its suspected someone else will attack,
They will defend their trash with a coming back.
Because they love that taste for the gutter.
Yes they love that taste for the gutter.
Garbage defenders,
Loving that taste for the gutter.
Trash collectors,
Loving that taste for the gutter.
But wont admit or quit,
Loving that taste for the gutter.
They can't leave it,
'Cause they come right back.
Because they love that taste for the gutter.
Garbage defenders,
Loving that taste for the gutter.
Trash collectors,
Loving that taste for the gutter.
But wont admit or quit,
Loving that taste for the gutter.
But wont quit,
That taste for the gutter.
Or admit...
A loving for the gutter.
And wont quit,
That taste for the gutter.
Or admit...
A loving for the gutter.
No they wont admit it,
A loving for the gutter.
Or...
Quit,
A taste they have for the gutter.
No they wont admit it,
A loving for the gutter.
Or...
Quit,
A taste they have for the gutter.
Or...
Quit,
A taste they have for the gutter.
No they wont admit it,
A loving for the gutter.
Or...
Quit,
A taste they have for the gutter.
Or...
Quit,
A taste they have for the gutter.
No they wont admit it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Y... Garbage Man
Become a garbage man
Every day, just for a minute
Search for some litter
Pick up some garbage
Where ever you can
Don't stoop down.
Not good for the back
Just sit on your heels
Stay squatted and look up
It gives you a special perspective
Pick up a hand full
Walk to the bin
Not the nearest
The walking is exercise
Good for your body
So, become a garbage man
It can give you perspective
It is good for your body
It is good for the world
Just a hand full per day.
-
Note:
Garbage men really deserve ou full respect.
I got the idea to write this piece when I was picking up a handful of garbage from the beach. I thought if there more people picking up garbage than people throwing garbage, littering would no longer be a problem.
I hope in this poem there is nothing disrespectful of garbage men. They really do a great job en deserve our respect as much as doctors and lawyers deserve our respect (as indicated in the comments by unwritten soul below)
poem by Aufie Zophy

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Twelve
a woman in an early morning sweeping some trash
away from the house
a heap of garbage
thrown on the road for the garbage truck to pick it up...
whistles her way inside the house
locks the gates
enters the door
and opens all the windows of the house
meeting a brand new day
filled with warm sunshine
and cool air breathings
from the yard's green trees.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Easter Scene
a woman in an early morning sweeping some trash
away from the house
a heap of garbage
thrown on the road for the garbage truck to pick it up...
whistles her way inside the house
locks the gates
enters the door
and opens all the windowsof the house
meeting a brand new day
filled with warm sunshine
and cool air breathings
from the yard's green trees.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Personalized Garbage
What better day is it than today,
To trash and put out on the curb...
All disturbing nonsense.
Every single bit of it.
Without a need to start an argument.
Like a chore over time that has been ignored,
Sack all that crap stored...
To get rid of it.
And set it out to stay away permanently....
From your front door.
And if it should be passed as you leave,
To get some fresh air inhaled and exhaled to breathe...
Don't acknowledge you are familiar with it.
If you do recognize this as personalized garbage,
Again it will be yours to reluctantly admit.
What better day is it than today,
To trash and put out on the curb...
All disturbing nonsense.
Every single bit of it.
Without a need to start an argument.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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TRASH DAY
Parody of "Hot In Herre" by Nelly
Rotten
So rotten here
So rotten
Oh
It was like, the last day before trash day
My place was gettin' kinda nas-tay
Even though the garbage I knew would reek
(You know) Thought that I could leave it for one more week
Then, um, I'm takin'
Birthday cake 'n'
(Oh) Chili and greasy old bacon
Throw it all on top of the mess I been makin'
Wife's so mad, she starts to shakin'
Leaky bag, 'n' now that girl is gaggin'
She's naggin'
"I need you to get that stuff off the kitchen floor"
"Is that too much to ask you for?"
But I see no reason why
Can't let a few more weeks go by
And now garbage is piled up high
And buddy, you should see the flies
I said...
There's somethin' rotten here (say what?)
You better hold your nose
(Hey, you disgusting slob, you gotta take the trash out)
Boy there's a lot in here (a lot)
And every day it grows
(Hey, you disgusting slob, you gotta take the trash out)
Make ya wanna throw up
Look at all this garbage that I keep generatin'
(Come on) I sit around all day and watch it biodegradin'
Bet there's a hundred health codes that I'm violatin'
Even my dog passed out and needed resuscitatin'
You won't believe it, take a whiff of that aroma
Sure to put you in a coma
It's so messy, can't find my toenail clippers
It's so bad, the roaches wearin' slippers
Warm, sweaty clothes piled up in this joint
Stand up by themselves at this point
It's so filthy, now baby, I can't lie
I wipe my feet before I go outside
I wonder what crawled in here and died
(You know) Walkin' 'round barefoot, I'd be terrified
But it gives me stuff to talk about with my friends
Like "Hey, I think them rats gettin' big!"
Oh
There's somethin' rotten here (say what?)
You better hold your nose
(Hey, you disgusting slob, you gotta take the trash out)
Look what we got in here (now what?)
Let's watch it decompose
(Hey, you disgusting slob, you gotta take the trash out)
Make ya wanna throw up
With a little bit of a... and a little bit of a...
Make me wanna throw up
It makes ya wanna... just makes ya wanna...
Oh
Some Lysol, some Comet
I got a mop and it's got your name on it
(What?) I'm just kiddin', doggone it
(Oh) Unless you gonna do it
Careful not to breathe the fumes
Check it, garbage piles are goin' all the way to the bathroom
Turn into toxic waste sometime this afternoon
Better get a Hazmat suit and a push broom
Oh
There's somethin' rotten here (say what?)
You better hold your nose
(Hey, you disgusting slob, you gotta take the trash out)
It's gone to pot in here (to pot)
Bring out the firehose
(Hey, you disgusting slob, you gotta take the trash out)
Make ya wanna throw up
With a little bit a... and a little bit a...
Make me wanna throw up
Give a little bit a... and a tiny bit a...
Make ya wanna throw up
Mix a little bit a... with a molecule a...
Make me wanna throw up
It makes me wanna... just makes me wanna...
Oh
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Here's a good thing to do if you go to a party and you don't know anybody First, take out the garbage. Then go around and collect any extra garbage that people might have, like a crumpled-up napkin, and take that out too. Pretty soon people will want to meet the busy garbage guy.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If you put garbage in a computer nothing comes out but garbage. But this garbage, having passed through a very expensive machine, is somehow ennobled and none dare criticize it.
quote by Rory Bremner

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Garbage On the Sidelines
They stood by on the sidelines
Pointing at spectacle after spectacle.
Watching those parading and serenading
Taunts with gestures.
And when the street sweepers came...
Only then did they realize,
They were the trash to be hauled!
Garbage on the sidelines,
Had been declared eyesores.
Observing participation...
Was outlawed and long outdated!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Garbage Pick Up
Place your garbage at the side of the road
all that was treasured at one time.
Bikes and some exercise equipment
they had seen their better of times.
Your child has grown up
and your now growing out.
He 's worn off the rubber riding his bike
clothes hung on yours, cause it got too tuff!
Golf clubs never used at all
because dad had that heart attack.
Maybe if he let you come along
you both wouldn't have got so fat?
Garbage pick up man is looking
at all that lay aside the road.
He's looking at it likes it's Christmas Eve
with wealth of gifts untold!
One mans junk is anothers treasure
I've heard someone say.
I guess we shouldn't buy false man made hopes
It's all ends up, Garbage on pick up day!
poem by Linda Winchell

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A Garbage Can
Life is sometimes not as planned
What could be worse than a garbage can
For you are tossed and thrown away
just like the garbage to rot each day
Taken for granted by a ladies man
A woman is mistreated as much as she can
Love forsaken and lust Oozes out...
To put away his filth without any doubt
In the name of love this game is played
And it is defined as masquerade
The clock turns 8 and it's time to leave
The garbage is out and the man at ease
poem by Meena Mustafa

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Don't Drop Your Garbage
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away...
And when you step,
Kiss the wind!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away...
And when you step,
Kiss the wind!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!
Don't dropp your garbage at my front door.
Get to steppin' take it back.
No one seeks to hear your preaching.
Or your point of view described while you teach'.
With self righteous sighs.
Too many sitting on the edge are jumpy.
And twice as many want to fight.
Don't dropp your garbage.
Get from my door and get to steppin'.
Don't want to regret what I do.
I wish to keep that evil sleepin'.
Don't wake it up,
I ask of you!
Don't dropp your garbage at my front door.
Get to steppin' take it back.
No one seeks to hear your preaching.
Or your point of view described while you 'teach'.
With your self righteous sighs.
Too many sitting with an edge are jumpy.
And twice as many look to fight.
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away...
And when you step,
Kiss the wind!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!
Don't dropp your garbage!
I'd like to keep myself polite.
Get away!
I don't want to get those demons screaming.
Or stir a yelling to disturb my peaceful night.
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away...
And when you step,
Kiss the wind!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away...
And when you step,
Kiss the wind!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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New York City has finally hired women to pick up the garbage, which makes sense to me, since, as I've discovered, a good bit of being a woman consists of picking up garbage.
quote by Anna Quindlen

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Trash and Treasure
So different we are in so many a way
That, every body knows I do not have to say
In case you do not know, here I will cite a few
See how luckless we are and fortunate are you
At times you do not eat, just for the lack of mood
Desirability of food in the table
Decides if you will eat or the meal just ignore
Often we do not eat, because of lack of food
Availability of food in the table
Determines if ever we eat or not at all
Sometimes your kind of food strays to our larder
Not via the grocer, a courier or waiter
But via garbage dump we rake painstakingly
For food and anything of value there might be
And when you go shopping In a department store
You choose the clothes you wear by the size or color
By the brand or trade mark, It must be signature
To us size and color matter not anymore
We cannot be choosy or be meticulous
Whatever comes our way, make do, accept we should
For these things come to us via similar route
Which is the garbage dump, we do not have a choice
And the roof that we have Inches above our heads
Are materials you throw away, considered waste
After your palaces and villas you have built
Your trash are wealth for us, possessions we cherish
Author's Note: In third-world countries, many people depend on garbage cans and garbage dumps for their subsistence. This poem is about them.
poem by Pacific Hernandez

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Learning The Art Of Loving
it is a hug that you need
when some parts of you dangle
on your shoulder
like the way your your hair
shouts for help
for fear of falling
and here i am coming
to hug you
this kind of hug that sings
the song of
apple pickers
and
garbage collectors
whose hands
are sworn
to clean the mess
and keep the pieces
to put them all away
and burn them
as often as necessary
i will hug you baby
but only for
a while
i am both
this apple picker somewhere
in the north
and a garbage collector
some place in the south
let us talk about
love some other time
i am still
learning the art of loving
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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436
It Is A Hug That You Need
When Some Parts Of You Dangle
On Your Shoulder
Like The Way Your Your Hair
Shouts For Help
For Fear Of Falling
And Here I Am Coming
To Hug You
This Kind Of Hug That Sings
The Song Of
Apple Pickers
And
Garbage Collectors
Whose Hands
Are Sworn
To Clean The Mess
And Keep The Pieces
To Put Them All Away
And Burn Them
As Often As Necessary
I Will Hug You Baby
But Only For
A While
I Am Both
This Apple Picker Somewhere
In The North
And A Garbage Collector
Some Place In The South
Let Us Talk About
Love Some Other Time
I Am Still
Learning The Art Of Loving
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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I’m So Proud Of My Murali Boy
I’m so proud of my son Murali
cos he’s always thinking smart
and efficient
I asked him the other day:
“Sonny boy
dear Murali
What’d you like to be
when you grow up? ”
And he says to me:
“I’ll be a garbage collector, Daddy”
And I say to him:
“O my dear boy -
why a garbage collector
of all the jobs? ”
And my little boy Murali
says, smart as he always is:
“Oh, Dad,
look at them:
they have such big trucks
and they work only once a week”
Oh yes, I’m so proud
of my little Murali
poem by Raj Arumugam

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Part of Their Existence
Some will get it!
Some will not.
Some blueprints are understood,
For what they are!
Should an entire project be dropped...
Or stopped,
Because a disinterested passerby
Tries to 'picture' at a glance...
Where the entrances and exits will be?
If it can't be envisioned,
Why waste time in explanation?
If someone recognizes trash on the street...
But doesn't fathom the concept of a broom!
Garbage will always be considered attractive,
By those who have grown believing it as part of their existence!
'That' has not become associated with a lesson plan!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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