Fruits Of Waste
food waste
one country
say old Italy
800 million tonnes
of fruit picked sold
from fruit trees
750 million tones
left to rot
never picked
every year
why
not increase
efficiency?
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Inefficient World Food Production Distribution
food waste
one country
say old Italy
800 million tonnes
of fruit picked sold
from fruit trees
750 million tonnes
left to rot
never picked
every year
market price
market fixed
market profit
not worth picking
costs more picking
than sold price paid
what a waste?
millions die wanting
millions die starving
millions die hurting
in an inefficient world?
now it is raining
luxury fruits
cherries peaches
blemish on trees
never sold
never eaten
never saves lives
harvest
process
serves
still in old Italy
20 million tones
spoils to market
more money paid
waste paid collected
paid in dump charges
can we not do better?
Italy is but one country
waste in global community
sickens sweet bull commodity
in an electronic age
can we not do better
reduce waste food
shortage shame deficiencies?
China India hungry markets
2.5 billion people droughts floods
increasing phenomena purchases
on global markets now
are undermining food
global world prices now
world’s poorest farmers
are key to deficit farmers’ food
production improvement
efficiency management is key
rising food demand increases
on a waste finite land planet
time for think
tank
needed solutions?
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Benefits of 1995 Fish Trash Policy
policy no policy
policy of indifference
policy of stupidity
now reaps rewards
use “trash fish”
policy as animal feeds
and in fish farming means
bycatch
is increasingly
financially
attractive to fishers
fishers of world oceans
policy bad policy
1995 one study
showed 27 million tonnes
of fish being discarded
every year but
2005 an investigation found
figure had dropped
to recorded
only 7 million tones
good news
no amount
of bycatch
did dropp not
just deleted
from records
off hot books
policy of greed
a Bermuda Triangle mystery?
a mystery of 20 million tonnes
20 million tonnes of missing fish?
20 million tonnes
were being sold
but control without
what hope in fisheries
of achieving sustainability
if we don’t woe know what
is being caught?
time for television watch
sport big game fishing but
“an estimated 90 per cent
of all large predatory fish
are gone totally fished out
greed humanity gills caught”
partly because fish trash
part of food chain was never trash
what do you think big fish eat?
(Quotation is the poem ‘Where Did All Large Game Fish Go? ’ by Terence George Craddock)
poem by Terence George Craddock
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IF you remember every word in this book, your memory will have recorded about two million pieces of information: the order in your brain will have increased by about two million units. However, while you have been reading the book, you will have converted at least a thousand calories of ordered energy, in the form of food, into disordered energy, in the form of heat that you lose to the air around you by convection and sweat. This will increase the disorder of the universe by about twenty million million million million units - or about ten million million million times the increase in order in your brain - and that's if you remember everything in this book.
Stephen Hawking in A Brief History of Time
Submitted by Catalin Popescu
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Food Waste To Market
still in old Italy
20 million tones
spoils to market
more money paid
waste paid collected
paid in dump charges
can we not do better?
can we stop criminal waste?
can we end global hunger?
food waste to market
not just an Italian problem
crime waste a global problem?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Blackberry Picking
I have fond memories of going blackberrying
On Sundays, with my Dad, when I was a child.
Situated on the very outskirts of our little town,
The lane was long and winding, lonely and wild.
We worked our way along the prickly hedgerows,
Plucking perfect fruit from amongst the brambles,
But the berries, which were over ripe or under ripe,
Were left behind by us, during our country rambles.
We picked plenty of plump, juicy berries,
And popped them all in to our plastic pot.
Dad seemed to know the very best time to go,
So we always returned home with quite a lot.
Along the way, we spotted spiders in their webs;
Of spiders, I have always been a little scared.
So any fruit which was located round about,
Was more than welcome to stay right there!
The blackberries were taken home to Mum,
Who mixed them up with apples, inside a pie.
I always felt a small sense of pride, as we ate
Those blackberries, picked by my Dad and I.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Food Left To Rot
market price
market fixed
market profit
not worth picking
costs more picking
than sold price paid
never fruit picked
never taste eaten
never starving fed
global waste sickening
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Old Man & Me
Well an old man said to me
In a voice filled with pain
Where you going young man
Said I'm going to fight a war
Gonna fight for my country
In some foreign land
He said "The sun will never hurt you
Never harmed anyone
But you must realize"
If you try to stare her down
She will win in the end
She will burn your eyes
She will burn them
Seen a million places
Seen a million faces die
And I wonder who will walk with me
When I get to Heaven
He said "Boy I was young once
Yeah I was tough
Sailing on Uncle Sam's boat
Hey I could kill the enemy
I could die on foreign streets
But I could not vote
But now you walk by me
You won't talk to me
Say this is my fate
But every time you walk the streets boy
Most of them you meet
You see it's you they hate
It's you...
Seen a million faces
Seen a million places die
And I wonder who will walk with me
When I get to Heaven
I hope I get there
Seen a million places
Seen a million faces die
And I wonder who will walk with me
When I get there
See this woman sitting next to me
She's been there for a long, long time
And when I fell, she picked me up
When I cried, she wiped my tears
I thank god she's mine
And when I leave this world
She won't have anything
But her love for me
Cause the man took everything else
Made me hate myself
So just let her be boy
Won't you let her be
song performed by by Hootie & The Blowfish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old Man & Me
Well an old man said to me
In a voice filled with pain
Where you going young man
Said i'm going to fight a war
Gonna fight for my country
In some foreign land
He said "the sun will never hurt you
Never harmed anyone
But you must realize"
If you try to stare her down
She will win in the end
She will burn your eyes
She will burn them
Seen a million places
Seen a million faces die
And i wonder who will walk with me
When i get to heaven
He said "boy i was young once
Yeah i was tough
Sailing on uncle sam's boat
Hey i could kill the enemy
I could die on foreign streets
But i could not vote
But now you walk by me
You won't talk to me
Say this is my fate
But every time you walk the streets boy
Most of them you meet
You see it's you they hate
It's you...
Seen a million faces
Seen a million places die
And i wonder who will walk with me
When i get to heaven
I hope i get there
Seen a million places
Seen a million faces die
And i wonder who will walk with me
When i get there
See this woman sitting next to me
She's been there for a long, long time
And when i fell, she picked me up
When i cried, she wiped my tears
I thank god she's mine
And when i leave this world
She won't have anything
But her love for me
cause the man took everything else
Made me hate myself
So just let her be boy
Won't you let her be
song performed by by Hootie & The Blowfish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Too Raw To Eat
Picked over like a piece of meat
Nibbled and a little bit uneasy
Difficult it is to please
Somebody who prefers
The taste of cake
Without the cheese
Picked over like forbidden fruit
From a garden stomped over with people
I want to be the one who leaves
A deliciousness to tease
But I've been regarded
Too raw to eat.
Picked over like a piece of meat
Nibbled and a little bit uneasy
Difficult it is to please
Somebody who prefers
The taste of cake
Without the cheese
Picked over like forbidden fruit
From a garden stomped over with people
I want to be the one who leaves
A deliciousness to tease
But I've been regarded
Too raw to eat
Picked over like a piece of meat
But I've been regarded
Too raw to eat
Picked over like a piece of meat
But I've been regarded
Too raw to eat
Picked over like a piece of meat
But I have been regarded
Too raw to eat
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sanctuary
'And on the banks, on both sides of the river, there will grow all kinds of trees for food. Their leaves will not wither nor their fruit fail, but they will bear fresh fruit every month, because the water
for them flows from the sanctuary. Their fruit will be for food, and their leaves for healing.' ~ Ezekiel 47: 12
sanctuary
dying trees
and fallen
leaves
dried river
hungry heart
and wounded liver
sanctuary
bones of dust
sanctuary
my head
know longer knows
poem by Jay Reynolds
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There are eleven million Jews in the world. I don't say that all of them will come here, but I expect several million, and with natural increase I can quite imagine a Jewish state of ten million.
quote by David Ben Gurion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Switches, Pop, And Persimmon Rockets
I remember, well, that tall old persimmon
That stood in the yard, when I was a lad
The soft fruit that fell from that tall old persimmon
When picked up and eaten, what sweetness, it had
It didn’t take long to eat up all the ripe ones
And then what was left laying under the tree
Was firm, shiny fruit that resembled green apples
And it seemed it should also be tasty, to me
I picked up a big one and brushed off the dirt
Then sunk my teeth in its flesh, firm and green
My mouth puckered up like a prune in the sun
I found that persimmons aren’t tasty when green
My brothers and I and the neighbors as well
Would play in its shade most all the day long
Softball or horseshoes or cowboys and Indians
It didn’t much matter ‘cause life was a song
Since no one could eat those hard green persimmons
We wondered if use for such fruit could be found
While playing one day, through a sheer stroke of genius
A discovery was made of gargantuan bounds
Right there on the ground we made our discovery
A single use switch that my pop made me cut
And once he had finished the job it was cut for
He dropped it right there where I, then picked it up
It seemed, such a waste, to get only one use
From such a fine switch as this one I had cut
So, onto its tip I pushed one green persimmon
And reared back and flung it as hard as I could
We couldn’t believe how smoothly it flew
Up through the trees and over the fence
It bounced off the roof of the house on the next street
We all were astounded, how far that it went
A new sport was born that glorious day
Contests were held and a champion was named
We bounced more’n a dozen hard green persimmons
Off of that rooftop the very first day
One day when that neighbor should’ve been working
He found green persimmons all over his lot
He studied awhile on the puzzle before him
Then, as fate would have it, he called up my pop
It didn’t take pop long to figure it out
When he found all our ordnance piled in the ditch
Since I was the oldest, he called me in first
And told me, “young man, go cut me a switch”
I cut you a good one, I said to my pop
But, I feel I must say, as I give it to you
For a switch of this nature, it seems a disgrace
To be wantonly put to such vulgar a use
© C R Clark-6/15/2008
poem by C.R. Clark
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter CXVI: One in a Million
A million feeling, one story
One feeling, a million story
A million question, one anxiety
One question, a million anxieties
A million smile, one meaning
One smile, a million meaning
A million languages, one will
One language, a million will
A million anger, one reaction
One anger, a million reaction
A million beginning, one ending
One beginning, a million ending
A million face, one heart
One face, a million hearts
A million dream, one happiness
One dream, a million happiness
A million love, one human
One love, a million human
A million trouble, one way
One trouble, a million ways
A million arts, one impression
One art, a million impressions
A million witness, one event
One witness, a million event
A million memories, one fact
One memory, a million facts
A million chance, one choice
One chance, a million choices
A million lives, one hope
One life, a million hope
A million reason, one lie
One reason, a million lie
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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I'm one in a million
I’m one in a million
Of people who claims to be
But no one knows me
One in a million
Of people who are writing
But no one is willing to read
I’m one in a million
Of people who has serious
Entertaining issues
But no one is interested in them
One in a million
Of people who sings
But no one recognize me
I’m one in a million
Of people who voice out clearly
But no one is listening to me
One in a million
Of people who are renaissance
But no one sees it
I’m one in a million
Of people who are searched and looked for
But no one finds me
Because I’M ONE IN A MILLION
poem by Zama Ashley Helebe
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Discovered As Delicious
Many have a need to cling...
Like a fruit maturing,
That has of yet been picked.
And sits with a grip,
Agonizing over it in a nervousness.
Prolonging the experience...
Of being bitten.
And wishing not to be chewed.
Or spitted about...
In a noticeable disappointment.
But sooner than later it is dropped.
From that which has gotten too tired,
Of its clinging.
Too weary of a fruit that has aged.
And an abrupt disconnection occurs.
The benefit of it seems no longer to pay!
Shakened and disturbed by this,
The fruit begins to flounder in a reminiscing.
Left to thrive with or without comprehension...
In which direction to roll,
Or drift...
Until it finds it feels a fit.
Hopefully comfortable enough,
With itself...
To allow it discovered as delicious.
Or become saddened...
That it has been left alone to rot!
A condition condoned!
With no value to itself emphasized and known.
The structure and purpose of it was missed.
But this with consistent preparation...
Could have been a mindset stopped.
And the value of it shown as part of the crop,
Enhanced.
With expectations of it,
By all who would come to taste...
As juicy to the lips,
Down to the core!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You Picked the Right Day for Torture
You picked the right day for torture.
It was too quiet and serene,
To be left untampered.
You wanted your presence felt...
And it was.
You picked the right day for torture
With or without a diet regimen
Or implementation of facts.
What you do behind one's back...
Is left to your interpretation.
Your rules and dispositions are taught!
Although not followed,
And neither held in high esteem.
You picked the right day for torture...
Perhaps now you can see in bright daylight,
The victims you continue to abuse
Are of your own kind.
And of them none can say you frighten.
Yet all have been too quick to say you are crazed!
And today you are here believing you will be praised,
And honored?
You picked the right day for torture!
And how much of it you take...
Will not leave a witness to feel remorse,
Or show heartbreak!
They have come to watch you exploit,
Your own pain!
You have picked the right day for torture!
Everyone came to give you the limelight,
And the fame you claim!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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An Allure Fruits
bats are back
their fruit trees in fruit
forgotten fruit not
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Spam & Eggs?
Middle class are now social dregs
Using food stamps instead of cash
Give up steak for spam & eggs
Soon may forage dumpster trash
ROTMS
Huffington Post
10/22/2010
“Lillie Gonzales does whatever it takes to provide for three ravenous sons who live under her roof. She grows her own vegetables at home on Kauai, runs her own small business and like a record 42 million other Americans, she relies on food stamps.
With more than 1 in 8 Americans now on food stamps, participation in the program has jumped about 70 percent from 26 million in May 2007, while the nation's unemployment rate rose from 4.3 percent to 9.2 percent through September of this year.
'We've seen a huge increase in participation due to the economic downturn, ' said Jean Daniel, a spokeswoman for the USDA's Food and Nutrition Service. 'That's the way this program was designed.'
poem by Ray Lucero
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Intelligence is a fruit picked in the nieghbour's garden.
Last year, New York got $200 million. This year, we're going to give them $124 million under this particular program. But last year was an artificially elevated number to make up from the very low grant the year before.
quote by Michael Chertoff
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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