Freefall
the bouncing
of garbage
in a too-warm wind
slave of the street
i collect it
it is ugly either way
boxes bottles plastic bags
poem by Stan Petrovich
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Makes Me Want To Cry
Just a few facts
that should make you want to cry…
Four thousand per cent markup
On each bottle of water you buy
Four per cent of all U.S. energy is consumed
In the making of plastic
So I’m guessin’ that our average person
Doesn’t think the energy crises is drastic
Doesn’t even matter
what you’re putting in it
One hundred forty four thousand
plastic bags are used every minute
At least four billion bottles
purchased in 2010
An amount that’s quite
Impossible to truly comprehend
Twelve per cent of all plastic
Is turned into solid trash
Which we then convert into big smelly piles
And then try to find a place to stash
And speaking of taste there’s
one thing that you oughta’
Know about your spring
and mountain pure bottled water
And that’s one not so surprising fact
That most of your prized mountain,
and your precious spring water
Comes into your bottles from an ordinary tap
At least four hundred million barrels of oil
Used to make plastic bottles and bags in 2010
Look at the bright side, at least we’ve made a lot of Arabs happy…
In Saudi Arabia, Libya, and Iran!
So maybe it’s the shape or maybe the cachet
That works it’s insidious seduction… (but stop and think!)
A hundred watt bulb can burn eleven hours
On the energy wasted on just one bottle’s production
Eighty percent of marine garbage is plastic
Two hundred species at risk from plastic waste
But what’s a few species? Let’s not be drastic!
We certainly wouldn’t want to act in haste.
Three hundred thousand pounds per square kilometer
Floating in the Pacific alone
So we oughta’ start thinking about using the Atlantic
When we start thinking of tossing our old cell phone
So when you buy your next bottled water
There’s one thought I’d like to plant under your nose
It takes only a few seconds to make one plastic bottle
But takes four hundred fifty…years to decompose
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rainbow Coalition
Rainbow Coalition
On the border between Chile from Argentina
there is a long barbed wire fence full of plastic
bags, some from posh shops in Paris, London
and New York, There are Japanese bags too
and some with Arabic letters, you can say it is
international garbage fence, but not quite, it is
eerily beautiful like a pale sad rainbow.
There used to be skeletons here too they all had
broken bones as dropped from planes, but
they have been removed now if you are lucky
or ghoulish you might find a collar bone or two
or a skull cleans by the wind; indestructibly sacks
flap, so deafening that you can’t hear the song of
the condors.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Winter (parody)
(with apologies to fanie olivier)
Already early in May you can feel the wind gallop,
it is already cutting icily from twelve o’clock
and blows sand
leaves and old plastic bags sky-high.
Across the street the neighbour’s drain is overflowing
and sewerage flows along at the end of the yard,
while the other neighbour’s wife forwardly winks at me
and she’s a flamboyant girl,
her husband is well built and somewhat angry
and she has got a teenage daughter, who draws attention like her mother,
dressing at times somewhat nakedly,
while the neighbour comforts himself with bottles of brandy,
sometimes wanting to know about his wife’s wiles from me,
when I see pain and grief eating at him.
[Reference: “winter” by fanie olivier.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Plastic Passion
Plastic passion is a hard to handle
Plastic passion is a sold out scandal
Oh it's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
Plastic passion is the ladies lover
Plastic passion is the marble mother
Oh it's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
Plastic passion is a diamond delight
Plastic passion is the nadir of night
Oh it's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
Plastic passion is a hycoscine heart
Plastic passion is a transparent tart
Oh it's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
Plastic passion is a gold guarantee
The plastic passion is murdering me
Oh it's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
song performed by by Cure
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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Intro
O-U-T-K-A-S-T
Live, from the center of the earth, 7 light-years below sea level we go,
welcome to Stankonia. The place from which all funky things come. Would you
like to come?
(girl moaning, lasts throughout intro)
Bounce baby. (We're bouncing)
Bounce.
Bounce. (We're bouncing)
2 times bounce bounce. (We're bouncing)
We bouncing. (We're bouncing)
BOUNCE... (We bouncing baby)
(We're bouncing!) C'mon, bounce.
(Bouncing! Bounce baby) Bounce!
Bounce bounce. (Baby!) Bounce bounce.
(Let's bounce) C'mon bounce. (Everybody let's bounce)
(Let's bounce) We bouncing now.
All that bouncing, niggaz be from the H-L. We got Bankhead right here,
southwest and 92 strong.
BREAK!! -clap-
song performed by by Outkast
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Plastic Man
A man lives at the corner of the street,
And his neighbors think hes helpful and hes sweet,
cause he never swears and he always shakes you by the hand,
But no one knows he really is a plastic man.
Hes got plastic heart, plastic teeth and toes,
(yeah, hes plastic man)
Hes got plastic knees and a perfect plastic nose.
(yeah, hes plastic man)
Hes got plastic lips that hide his plastic teeth and gums,
And plastic legs that reach up to his plastic bum.
(plastic bum)
Plastic man got no brain,
Plastic man dont feel no pain,
Plastic people look the same,
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Kick his shin or tread on his face,
Pull his nose all over the place,
He cant disfigure, or disgrace,
Plastic man (plastic man).
Hes got plastic flowers growing up the walls,
He eats plastic food with a plastic knife and fork,
He likes plastic cups and saucers cause they never break,
And he likes to lick his gravy off a plastic plate.
Plastic man got no brain,
Plastic man dont feel no pain,
Plastic people look the same,
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Kick his shin or tread on his face,
Pull his nose all over the place,
He cant disfigure, or disgrace,
Plastic man (plastic man).
Hes got a plastic wife who wears a plastic mac,
(yeah, hes plastic man)
And his children wanna be plastic like their dad,
(yeah, hes plastic man)
Hes got a phony smile that makes you think he understands,
But no one ever gets the truth from plastic man (plastic man)
Plastic man (plastic man).
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Summer Spectacle
Summer wind's fussing 'it's hot, so hot'
Say I 'never mind, blow a lot a lot'
Cleaning the storeroom I too hiss and shhhh
Neaten things segregated
Fussing over a rusted kettle dated an ancient A.C
Set of playing cards, token coins some decades old
Used plastic boxes, bottles, plates etcetera my daughter's age
shameless umbrella- frame, plentiful tamil magazines
so old and loathsome...
Then I open a trunkful of clothes
Hiding a cane box underneath.
Ah, treasure resurrected
Take out a spectacle, put it on, suits me
Happy tears roll down
Summer wind's fussing 'it's hot so hot'
Say I 'no, it's divine and dandy like this spectacle'
I see through.There, an angel from the heavens
Say I 'love you so dearly, dearly Mamma'
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bags Of Fun With Buster
Performed by johnny japes and his jesticles. recorded for viz
Comics, written and produced by andy partridge, neville farmer,
And dave gregory, and featuring john otway.
Whos that dragging what looks like a pink sack of spanners down the road?
His swollen folly on a supermarket trolley to alleviate the load
Testicular tomfoolery
To the rescue of humanity
It looks a lot of balls to me
Fun and japes and merry frolics
With buster gonads bulbous bouncing . . .
Bags of fun with buster
And his super scrotal cluster
Whos that lad with his cobblers clad in a disguise of some form?
When the cosmic power of a meteorite shower made them swell beyond the norm
Now here he comes to save mankind
His enormous nuts not far behind
And theyre not the salted kind
He cures mutes and alcoholics
When they first see his bulbous bouncing . . .
Bags of fun with buster
And his super scrotal cluster
Theres bags of fun with buster
See them shine with evil lustre
Buster! watch out for that revolving door
Ooh buster! they look so incredibly sore
Buster! especially as you drag them through that powerful
Cleaning agent someone spilled upon the floor
Ooh buster! why do you let your sack swing so low?
Sax swing solo? yeah!
Fun and japes and merry frolics
With buster gonads bulbous bouncing . . .
Bags of fun with buster
And his super scrotal cluster
Doctor who could defeat the daleks
If he had busters swinging space age . . .
Bags of fun with buster
And his double sputnik thruster
Bags of fun with buster
Just to stroke them would disgust her
Bags of fun with buster
If she held them would you trust her?
Bags of fun with buster
Loads more balls than general custer
Bags of fun with buster
Lots more scrots than you could muster
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Street Mission
I dont know
Man, I just got here
You got me thinking
Im about to leave
Some say maybe tomorrow
New direction, hello
What I know know know
What I know know know
I walk tall
I walk in the wild wind
I love to stare
I love to watch myself grow
Someday, maybe tomorrow
New direction, hello
Well I know know know
Well I know know know
Street mission
Street mission
Street mission
Street mission
And Im promising nothing
Im just living a smile
I casually arrange it
I know...well I know know know
Street mission
Street mission
Street mission
Street mission
I walk tall
I walk in the wild wind
I live an image
Of plastic and gold
Some say maybe tomorrow
A resurrection, hello
Well I know know know
Well I know know know
Well I know know know
Well I know know know
Oh...
Oh...
Oh...i need something
I need someone
I need you
Oh...Ive got something
Ive got someone
Ive got you
Street mission
Street mission
Street mission
Good night
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Street Missions
I don't know
Man, I just got here
You got me thinking
I'm about to leave
Some say maybe tomorrow
New direction, hello
What I know know know
What I know know know
I walk tall
I walk in the wild wind
I love to stare
I love to watch myself grow
Someday, maybe tomorrow
New direction, hello
Well I know know know
Well I know know know
Street mission
Street mission
Street mission
Street mission
And I'm promising nothing
I'm just living a smile
I casually arrange it
I know...well I know know know
Street mission
Street mission
Street mission
Street mission
I walk tall
I walk in the wild wind
I live an image
Of plastic and gold
Some say maybe tomorrow
A resurrection, hello
Well I know know know
Well I know know know
Well I know know know
Well I know know know
Oh...
Oh...
Oh...I need something
I need someone
I need you
Oh...I've got something
I've got someone
I've got you
Street mission
Street mission
Street mission
Good night
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unnatural Foliage for M'lady Ernestine
The hedges here are gaily clad
in plastic bags of every hue
This makes me sad and makes me mad.
these cast off carriers spoil the view.
Of all inventions which I curse
created by mans fertile mind.
I cannot think of one that’s worse
than plastic bags folks leave behind.
They are used once then thrown away.
They hang in tatters from the trees
A sight that’s common place today
waving like banners in the breeze.
I really cannot understand
why they are not completely banned.
25-Apr-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love In The Air
Love in the Breeze.
At the nearly empty parking lot, near the supermarket,
two plastic bags danced in the spring breeze.
They elegantly circled each other, came near, almost
touched, but danced away from one another only to
meet again in a close circle; know they shyly touched.
A paper napkin with smeared lipstick on wanted to
join in, but the two plastic bags had only eyes for each
other. Deeply humiliated the napkin took refuge under
a car, but the car drove off and it had nowhere to hide.
So it began dancing alone, in slow motion, with eyes
closed as it was dreaming and the lipstick smiled.
A gust of wind came blew the napkin high into the sky
and away from the parking lot to a secret place of peace
only exploited paper napkins know of.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Swans
Two swans sit alone on a lake
Looking so peaceful,
Poised on the tranquil waters.
The air around them is calm,
A gentle breeze wafting,
Gliding through their white feathers.
They are caressed by the pine scents
And the delicate balance
Of their surroundings.
The sky above is blue,
Almost cloudless and clear,
But a few pillows float overhead.
The trees stand tall beside the lake,
Watching the swans
Swim on the surface.
They swim majestically,
Beautifully,
In the recreational park.
Under their webbed feet,
Abandoned garbage sifts—
The collected lost trinkets of lazy people.
Twenty feet from the lake,
There is a parking lot
Filled with automobiles
With rust crusting on the hood
And near the synthetic rubber tires.
The people that own the cars
Are feeding the geese bleached white Wonder bread.
They leave their Coke bottles
And Doritos bags on the ground,
Ready to be carried away by the wind.
The swans watch the people.
Later, one of them
Will stick its neck
Into the plastic hole
Of a Coke bottle container
And choke
And choke
And choke
And choke.
It will die.
The other swan will watch,
Helpless and screaming,
Unable to do anything.
Some people will watch,
In awe,
Some excited.
poem by Tim Stensloff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The worthless stuff
I work here in a Gas station
As a Sales Associate.
But collect the trash bags
from the bins too
A part of my job?
When I remove the heavy bags
The kind customers dump?
My innocent thoughts flew without wings
to my bygone golden school days!
I love that old man we call him 'Charlie uncle'
Who collects garbage and look after the ground.
O that attractive Teacher for Literature
who wears Indian Cashmere saris at all
and she got dimples on her both cheeks
when she smiles!
One day she questioned me; 'Nimal you want to be a writer
Lawyer or a Doctor? '
'Yes Teacher, I would like to be a writer
If not a Scavenger? ' I replied happily.
To that uncle charlie & the Literature teacher!
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Plastic
You got a plastic name and a plastic heart
You can play the game or you'll never start
I'm talkin' to you
You got a plastic house and a plastic fence
Gotta look around or you'll lose your friends
Am I gettin' through?
You got a plastic girl in a plastic bed
And she's in your house made of gingerbread
And you're in there too
Got a plastic smile on a plastic face
But it's underneath that you can't erase
But what can you do-do-do?
[CHORUS:]
Say Love-it's not that hard after all
(tell me what I want
song performed by by Alanis Morissette from Alanis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It does seem really hard to get consumers to do the right thing. It is stupid that we use two tons of steel, glass, and plastic to haul our sorry selves to the shopping mall. It's stupid that we put water in plastic bottles in Fiji and ship it here.
quote by John Doerr
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Brown Paper Bag
Brown paper bag
Squalid incomplete
slumped to the side of the street
Like unwanted sacks of garbage
She left her track her smell
And like the brown paper bag
She had travelled well
She had a whole world in her head
Her first love
The man she wed
And the drink and the smoke
And the four o clock bloke
That returned with a bottle in a brown paper bag
And better days before
When she had carried her first round fruit
When the brown paper bag was waxed new
And he carried his bride to the door
Then the four o clock bloke
Full of stale wine and stale smoke
With a bottle in a brown paper bag
How he called her a hag
And that first punch to the floor
And the brown paper bags fell by her side
Crumpled and stained
And the liquor cans and the four o clock man
Who never spoke
Left her broke
Bones shattered in pieces
Flesh bare to the wind
Body out on the street
Skin tanned dirt brown
Hair matted locks
And two brown paper bags tied with string to her feet
yvette m smith 11.2.09
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet- Stark Reality
The garbage-dump, it serves as a cradle!
The female child is left here by the Eves;
Along with dogs, they search ’midst plantain leaves;
The beggar too comes here for his morsel!
The poor children, they search amongst garbage;
With bodies bare and sacks on their shoulders;
They beg too, in the street’s- no one bothers;
The plastic, iron, to sell they manage.
They work in risky jobs for a penny;
And go from pillar to post so many;
Beaten and abused and turned delinquents,
By drunken fathers, their cries, the air rents.
This is the stark reality today!
And children’s lives have not changed anyway.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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