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Best Environment Poems

Below are the all-time best Environment poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of environment poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Environment Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Environment poems are below this new poems list.

Technology and the Environment by A., Mike
THE ENVIRONMENT TOSSERS by Ashton, Darryl
A product of my Environment by JAVED, HASAN
Testing Environment by Hinchman, Emily
IN ENVIRONMENT by Devnath, BL
Guardian Of The Environment - Indigenous Peoples by beharry, john
The Environment, My Home by Mala, Nsah
Environment pollution by Andalib, Asif
Save Environment-w by Mehta, Dr.Ram
No Environment, No Life by Sahay, Nekhel Mohan

View all new Environment Poems

The Best Environment Poems

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TO THE FLOWER

TO THE FLOWER Your scent beckoned my weeping heart to painless flight; amidst a garden where God dusts His pretty love. Spring tints are pure and fragrant, free of guilt Your hues painted another sunrise for my eyes; when once I failed to catch the pledge of morn. A seed of hope was born to white petals blush. Though there are silhouettes of bitter yesterdays must all the phantoms of illusions fade and leave...? Your floating aroma stirred and shot my nerves; inspiring a nightingale to sing some joyous laments; It swayed with grace to dance on wind's despotic beat. among the rustling leaves which hug the earth below; So like the sun, which from distant horizon smiles; it roused the sleepy world to begin the pen of baby prose. The unfolding mystery of your petals brought my bewildered mind to peacock's reflection. Alas! All was transient. These eyes probe beneath but were blinded by the intrusion of some stray shine; Ambitions which from afar are building sprout; t'is that which let this self to irksome doubt. Lovely blossom of the wild, this sojourner nigh to tame your perfume's sweet stinging scent. A restless soul by some wicked, destiny pokes; someone called--- but pity, I couldn't tell a note. If by magic, a butterfly I could become; Let it be over my being slowly span. Then with you (though the specters in our midst are fierce), I could jet fly though miseries without fear. But am just a mortal of faith that blows this wish for only covenants call for my journey still? I cannot be forever the one who would share your sweetness; (Harken, fairies of blooms, this wilderness is not my lair.) I shall not want to witness you wilt as no time left to stay. Never again will you see me at day-break's bloom, save something special for others to experience you. This fleeting apparition I so adored; promised me burgeoning petals. "Be not afraid as seasons change, beyond today, I won't be here to see that no harm be done with all intentions to your sacred charm. As today, I leave you to Mother's Nature tender care, for I must go to some greater musing-- heaven's ground. Wilt not, as soon the rain will dash, refreshing you my dear. If I return someday-- will your sublime scent still be here?" __________________________________________________________ Your Best Poem - Poetry Contest Sponsor Shadow Hamilton ~~3rd place~~ Free Verse, Prose Poetry, haibun - Poetry Contest Sponsor Debbie Guzzi ~~2nd Place~~ POEM OF THE DAY: October 21, 2015 Inspired by Susan Seddon Boulet's painting: -----http://media-cache-cd0.pinimg.com/236x/1d/c4/37/1dc437f88c0cfb2fbcc9333bd35bb8c3.jpg ©Olive Eloisa Guillermo October 20, 2014, 10:19 pm


Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo | Year Posted 2014

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Guess Who

~It's a Beautiful Day~

Under every star, 
A smile waltz-like no other
Once a simple cherry blossom girl, 
enjoying puppets and lullabies.
Sitting in front of the screen
Anxiously waiting for him to come in
through the front door, whistling a song, 
trading a suit jacket, for a zippered sweater;
made with love. ---My day just got better---

   ***It's a beautiful day***
In a charming little town square 
A servant, serving a friendly atmosphere
Welcome to the land of make-believe, 
where all my friends are real.
Here comes the speedy delivery 
Mr. McFeely and his letters.
Prancing puppet skin in love with
Beautiful Lady Aberlin.
Henrietta, a mighty and feisty pussycat
My favorite strings are the king and queen
Before the show ends, Trolley's a friend
tooting around from make-believe to reality.
   ***It's was a beautiful day***
Oh the innocence of my childhood, 
       My neighborhood is gone

By: PD


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2016

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Lifes Simplicity Maintained

You were born in a specialist clinic I was born at the front door of my house we both came into this world and survived. You’ve been eating foreign cuisines and expensive delicacies I’ve been taking porridge and traditional soups we both have grown and are a significant part of the society. You go to school in Jeeps and exotic vehicles I use public transport and finish it up with a walk we both went to learning institutions and acquired knowledge. You roll with the high and mighty and get a super model married I’m surrounded by the middle class and marries one never will be in Wikipedia we both are active in the food chain and wonderfully living our lives. You become a CEO or rather own a firm I get employed by you to run your empire we both sure need each other to function and drive. Gold and Diamonds will decorate the casket of your funeral mine may not even be worthy of a coffin, just a plain box we’ll nevertheless be dead and our chapter closed without preference. It is only a pathology when the eye gets larger than its socket, comparison cuts the muscles of esteem and gives greed a new suit, making simplicity a very complex attribute to attain and a life full of complexities a better friend to existence. Life is simple, we just make it complicated. A civil servant wants to live at par with a tycoon allowing his throat tie down the strength of his hands. Every destination has different roads, be it the highway or a rocky path. Take the one within your speed limit, the timing may show some reaching before or better than others but the most important thing is, the destination reached as achievement is decorated while life stay simple.


Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2015

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'BEACH BUDDIES' COLLECT 'STUFF' - FOR CONTEST

Twice a month on our tiny little Isle A group of heroes go that extra mile Wearing protective clothing they clean the beach Removing vast amounts of rubbish within their reach Plastic bottles, fast food containers and tins Items tossed away so thoughtlessly – it’s a sin So many marine animals can get tangled in discarded plastic They need our protection, or the results could be very drastic Hundreds of bin bags of rubbish are removed from our beach Restoring them to beauty, now they are as pretty as a peach Volunteers work tirelessly with amazing solidarity To help ‘Beach Buddies’ which is a registered charity Contest: Stuff Thomas Martin 10th June 2015


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015

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EXTINCTION

Earth is dying - doomed is human existence
xenophobic bigotry increases with persistence
totalitarian leaders rule with tyrannical power
ignorant society is blind to imminent final hour
nonchalantly fauna and flora are being ravaged
careless corporations leave little to be salvaged
towering ugly concrete buildings - not so humble
increase as animals continue to die in the jungle
obsolescence times haunt as war eliminates life
nuclear weapons usage will only continue strife

3 January 2016

Extinction contest by Anthony Slausen


Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016

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Earth Day

~Planet of the apes~

Ape should inherit the world
Perhaps  --maybe, just maybe!
Earth has a chance 


by:PD


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015

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What the Eyes Cannot See


Kyoko walks alone in the morning tide, 
comforted for a fleeting moment by salty air.
She feels the same sand between her toes 
as when she was a barefoot little girl, in a time
she felt safe, when the eyes of her mother protected her 
like a suit of armor - before the mighty wall of water, 
the “harbor wave”, towered over her village 
near Fukushima, washing her happy childhood away. 
Her dear mother, her security, her everything
never came home that day. 

Many months later, her father, a local fisherman, 
has lost his ability to cry, laugh or tell her why.
His silent eyes, cold as frost, are dead 
like the poisoned fish he nets every morning. 
In many ways, Kyoko lost both of her parents 
on that haunting day - forced to grow up long before 
the water receded, before the nuclear leak, 
before this new, austere existence.

Night deepens the despair. She is loneliest 
when darkness invades. She prays for the crickets 
return. They no longer sing her to sleep, and the stars
have faded, no longer shining through her open window.
Even the grasshoppers have died…
from restless sleep, night calls her to the mirror 
to find her mother’s dark eyes staring back at her – 
a curse she hopes will one day become a blessing,
a hope that one day her father will look at her again...

With tomorrow, her greatest burden will return. 
She will wake along side the broken-winged butterfly
with her duties in mind. Then, she’ll wear her stoic face 
to the marketplace. Father says he will soon lose 
his fishing boat. She has heard visitors from the city say 
only a fool would eat the fish from nearby waters, 
the same fish she fries most every day. No one knows
the global impact, they say. She hears foreign words
like radiation, disease and mutation while she sells 
the shiso and wasabi root from their garden stand,
feeling fear she does not fully understand but one day will.
She only knows how to survive today…


For Debbie Guzzi's Global Poetry Contest, 11/19/14      


Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2014

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IN THE MEADOWS IS MY DREAM

IN THE MEADOWS IS MY DREAM Strolling, strolling we are in the meadow: airy and green where asters, dahlias, nod and wink passing their green With him by my side, the hours of dread and fear are gone His blue eyes speak: "we're a match in heaven, always green" Dandelion heads float like little parachutes while we walk, he spinning me round and round in the carpet of golds and green Eyes to eyes meet, no more words from A to Z, we need not speak for our heartbeats duet in vibrato of love so evergreen Afar we hear thumps of small feet and some thunder laughs, He and I turn round we behold our kids innocent and green Father God-- the author of love along blue feathers and yellow smile is watching over us in that vast green... _________________________________________________________________ 8:40 pm , April 24, 2015


Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo | Year Posted 2015

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Dril-Baby-Drill


...and the wind..! was, electric. there was water..! there was sun..! ...it was all renewable... the energy, powered, sustained, life..! Fossil liquids burning emitting toxins that was OUR mistake. From the day a human kick started wound up the first combustible engine..! The first spill in any ocean should have been our clue. It was what cigarettes was to lungs- -what alcohol was to brain cells. It was a human error, a human error so huge that like a mythical dragon assumed a life of its own consumed the will the power the limited minds of limited men. Unlike the giant beast veiled as nuclear power with its unlimited potential that would have wooed the minds of the greatest among us, oil from its inception had the smell of destruction on its breath. It would in its own way fulfil the prophecy the world would end with a whimper not a bang. We saw its horns its bright red skin its pitch fork but we signed up willingly ...and from that day on our eternal souls were damned.
24~10~2014


Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014

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Carpet of Colour

The long years are harsh where the hot sun does burn
on the sand hills and plains when seasons won’t turn
where saltbush and samphire do somehow survive
and through these hot days there seems little alive.

But shade in the she-oaks can offer relief
for creatures surviving who still hold belief
the outback’s not dying though is tinder dry…
then cotton-wool clouds start to build in the sky.

And when it gets humid and balmy at night
the sunrise is red with the new dawning light
and leaves get up dancing and float on the breeze
ants start to scurry and thunder does tease.

There’s change on the way and a scent in the air
and storm birds are singing to make all aware
that drought may be over and soon there’ll be rain
the outback will flourish ‘til drought comes again.

Now pastel pink earth starts to darken to red
as it quenches it’s thirst on the deluge ahead
the creek beds awake from their slumber for years
and billabongs form behind quick rising weirs.

The pans and the lowlands are holding their fill
and outstation tanks are now starting to spill
so comes a new dawn from a heartbreaking scene
when almost like magic the land turns to green.

Where a land is vindictive and can be unkind
where water is life, and with man undermined
where vastness is changing from sleeping repose
the buds are now bursting and now they disclose…

…a rainbow that travels so long with the eye
in a landscape rebirth, to thanks from the sky
I’m taking a stroll through a live daisy chain 
in a carpet of colour that follows the rain.


Copyright © Lindsay Laurie | Year Posted 2014

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DERELICT BEAUTY

DERELICT BEAUTY Below drape of cotton clouds and sunshine, some red-purple live pendants embrace the tall breathless wall... ________________________________ Sponsor: Debbie Guzzi Contest Name: Three Line Poetry Placed 5th O.E. Guillermo 6:24 pm, March 15, 2015


Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo | Year Posted 2015

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Churchyard at Midnight

Twas darkness upon the quietly residing heath...
And deathly was the sullen red sandstone tower,
Standing gloomily inside the masons dry-stone walls
Amidst toppling granite slabs and the faded, wilting flower.

Solemn was the chime of the hollow, mournful bell
When tolling out on midnights grimly sombre  hour;
And thinly the swirling, unearthly mist
Did so wend abouts her silent, melancholic bower.

Where from a fronded yew of venerable years,
Besides ancient trunks of ivy-entwined gnarly oak,
A chilling screech from a sudden ghostly apparition -
Summoning upon waking resident souls did thus invoke!

For pale his form in soft white downy flight...
But none paler than that of me...
As across from the stream, held by an unblinking stare -
My shaky fears are transfixed so unnervingly!

Oh wise old feathered sage of long owl-lived age,
Unctuous incumbent of learned perch within black night,
Allow this the moment to calm my pounding heart...
And catch upon my fleeing thoughts - after such a wicked fright!!


Copyright © john fleming | Year Posted 2015

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I Once Walked Scenic Woodland Trails

I Once Walked Scenic Woodland Trails

In the utter darkness of great forested nights,
those sounds call and beckon to me about life;
I am finding again my way into a bushel of lights,
a child, fleeing from this world and its strife.

Years of my youth, I walked scenic woodland trails,
a voyager across ancient and stoic seas;
Nature's beauty reigns supreme, all others fail,
wonders await amongst the tall, majestic trees.

Alas! Dark-winds come to shatter this beauty renown,
where my young feet danced and gladly roamed;
Man's arrogance and stupidity wants to tear it down,
After seeing it before, my heart sadly moaned.

Dare we, cry out for much more enlightened ways,
with greater understanding and loving hearts;
And seek always, for ever brighter forested days,
with this dream fulfilled, it surely restarts.

Robert J. Lindley , 12-02-2015

Note- So busy but my muse demanded I write this today,
this late at night. I need sleep!!


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015

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My Perfect Story

The Perfect Story


Ingredients.... My Epic Melody!

 
I spread my wings, 

To carry you into that perfect ride.

Allowing you to communicate with my mind.

I'll show you what my perfect story would have in it.

With the world's enigma not everyone can find.

Words twisted with reality and beauty divine

The majestic ways to live with fairy tales combined.

Show no weakness towards the mercy of my gift.

Unleash the lightning, leaving all competition behind.

Pierce every word with my gleaming eyes.

You'll find yourself in the ebony of the blind.

A space passing every constellation with no regrets of return.

Assault the moment of the mind with the perfect line..

Expect pain, love, death, and desires that burn.

A trap for the follower to sink in.

Losing yourself to the evil garden underneath the green fern. 

Falling in love with the mental link of my imagination.

Rising from the ashes that killed every demon in my nations.

Rescued by the light of he who rode the wind of fate.

Breaking an oath to give every perfect story a-

 "HAPPY ENDING!"

 
~SKAT~


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2011

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Water Wall


As he slept in tranquil dream, 
Suddenly he flew, it seemed. 
Thrown and landing on the floor, 
Shaking walls and splintered doors. 

Just as quick, the room grew still. 
Distant tremors he could feel. 
Out the door, and up the rock, 
There he stood in sleepy shock. 

How could oceans disappear. 
Then a hissing he could hear 
And a trembling, heavy roar 
Headed for an empty shore. 

Sunrise turned a greenish hue, 
As he climbed, a better view. 
Seeming far too large, he saw 
What must be a water wall. 

Thought of ancient stories told 
Of a wrath that could unfold; 
Sucking oceans with a breath, 
Spewing endless waves of death. 

Instinct quickly cleared his mind. 
Panic now, he clawed and climbed. 
Up, despite the screams he hears, 
As a village disappears. 

Once an evil came to call, 
Scooped them up and took them all. 
Now he's old, his stories wane, 
Of the morning Satan came.


Gene Bourne 
08-18-14


.

.

 


Copyright © Gene Bourne | Year Posted 2014

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Alliteration For The Planet


Wonderful wonders woven within wild. 
Titillates theatrical tender thoughts
Consistently creation, contrives conservation concerns. 
Ecology evolves equations, entitling entities essence.
Empowering equality, enlarges existence.
Life lovingly leases Longevity.
Biodiversity braces, blatant brutal balding.
Deforestation, destruction devoid due definition.
People physically, plundering planet.
Prevalently procuring, products proscribed 
Pilfering practices producing poisonous pollutants.
Greenhouse gases generated, generously grievous.
Temperate temperature’s tempers tumultuous.
Creating Climate changes, causing catastrophes.
Planet purges peril predominately.
Preached, placid platitudes, politicians podiums paced.
loved lives logged listed lost.
Lacuna languished, lessons least learnt.
Losing Life lingers, listing leeward lazily.


Copyright © Sam Raj | Year Posted 2014

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Bees

One hundred million years on Earth
There's no accounting for our worth
Without our quite amazing powers
there would be no trees or flowers

The Earth would be a barren place
No flowers to, your borders, grace
No cereals to make your bread
and keep your teeming millions fed

We've worked our magic without fuss
but now, it seems, you're killing us
Your all consuming need for more
has brought us to extinction's door

Your pesticides have done their worst
Our decline can't be reversed
Because of them we cannot breed
but you don't take the slightest heed

When we're gone most plants will die
and YOUR extinction will be nigh
Without us to pollinate
mankind will have sealed it's fate

It's too late now, the damage done
The end of 'Apis' has begun
All life on Earth brought to its knees
and all because you killed the bees


Copyright © Rob Biden | Year Posted 2014

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YES I AM

YES I AM
I am that tall,good and kind man
I have the longest legs on earth
I am the fastest man on earth
I am deaf and dumb
My eyes lead me like a sheep and its lamb
I am very curious but,
very time conscious
I am jobless
I am homeless
I always thirst for water
I always need a good Samaritan
Despite my state,
I am the world's priority
People suffer a fate
But need me to be free
I am he everyone awaits to make a mirth
I go to anyone who is willing 
All I need is caring
Everybody needs me
But I come without acknowledging me

I come I come
I stand at your door
Open and welcome me with a kiss
When you delay,I make a hiss
The next scene, I turn my back to the door
There you will miss

Don't try opening
For I am time conscious
Don't try calling
For I am deaf and dumb
Don't try following
For I have the longest legs on earth
Don't try chasing
For I am the fastest man on earth
I come to make you mirth
But you can choose to be in dearth

I came I came
I stood at your door
You welcomed me wonderfully
But you made me sit on the floor
You left me and forgot to close the door
I moved out slowly
Upon your return,
You didn't see me
You forgot I am time conscious
I saw someone ready
So went there because I was curious

You tried calling
But forgot I am  deaf and dumb
You tried following
But forgot I have the longest legs on earth
You tried chasing
But forgot I am the fastest man on earth
I came to make you mirth
But you chose to be in dearth

I stood at your door
You welcomed me wonderfully
You made me sit comfortably
But refused to give me water when I was thirsty
You left me and forgot to close the door
Upon your return,
You didn't see me

You tried calling
But forgot I am deaf and dumb
You tried following
But forgot I have the longest legs on earth
You tried chasing me
But forgot I am the fastest man on earth
I came to make you mirth
But you chose to be in dearth

I stood at his door
He welcomed me with a kiss
He closed the door,
gave me a place to sit comfortably,
gave me water to lessen my sore,
Prepared me a mutton
He made me eat like a glutton
He laid his spreadsheet on a bed
He gestured to me to lay my head
I slept until he received what he needed
He decided to keep me forever
Alas,I embark on a journey
Joy like a river flowed in his heart
He smiled while escorting me

Yes I am
I am the very person you needed
But I came and you took me for granted
I am the one you are awaiting
When I come, show me the caring
I am opportunity.


Copyright © CHRISDAD KOJO ARTHUR | Year Posted 2015

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Guardian Of The Environment - Indigenous Peoples

For several thousands of years
you upheld the sacredness of Nature
avoiding wanton destruction 
of plant and animal life
taking only what you needed
since their sacredness was 
just as important to you
as the sacredness of humanity

When harvesting wild rice for food
you let some fall into the water
to produce crops for the future
Surrounding a pack of wild sheep
while hunting in the mountains
you let a male and female escape
so by their reproductive process
they would ensure the
continuation of their species

You saw yourself as part of Nature
living in harmony with it
and not plundering it with greed
Your religion was to respect Nature
viewing all plants and animals
as parts of its magnificent fabric
Abuse of a part of it was
an abuse of the whole

Your way of life 
provides valuable lessons
that can teach mankind how 
to deal with today's ecological crisis
that threatens the survival 
of all life on the planet
You were the genuine
Guardian of the Environment



I have always admired the way of life of the Native American Indians living in harmony with Nature before the advent of the Europeans. By extension, this applies to all indigenous peoples including the Amerindians and Polynesians. This piece is dedicated to them. 


Copyright © john beharry | Year Posted 2013

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A Rage Against The Storm

A Rage Against The Storm


Alas! against the storm I did bellow,
you bloweth upon the wrong fellow
My soul you have now so sorely tried
fear, your gift has now so surely died!

Nature feeds your evil blowing wrath,
I curse your daring this upon my path
Heaven's powers ignore your wicked deeds
you the rot that eats away joy's seeds!

Hark! all the destruction you have wrought,
fruits of sins that man surely has bought
Yet, I defy your right to so hammer me
I, the strongest root of my family tree!

Rage on , tear out the withered and the old
This man defies you with a heart very bold!

Robert J. Lindley, 08-27-2014


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2014

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MAN AND NATURE




Once Man,

Nature’s forgiveness implored,

For 

Crimes humanity has, against the environment

Committed 
 
 And

Sincerely, his serious concern expressed for the

Peril, the whole planet was in, because of

Man’s doing 


Nature, attentively, listened to every word, Man,

Wished so much to say, 

Then, turning towards him, with great emphasis 

Declared: 

“Worry not about me, my very dear child

For

Ample time to recover I would have, soon after 

Your upcoming disappearance 

Which

For long now, you, so thoughtlessly, have yourself 

arranged!”  




© Demetrios Trifiatis
     09 MARCH 2015


Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis | Year Posted 2015

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GIVING DECENCY A VOICE


In the dreary tune of a city's groan, when streets escape the raging claws of haggard breaths, a line of stars blink trading some warmth with human arms... beyond sighing notes the dusk possesses, there are more wrists handcuffed on tainted steel of unjust labor for children and women who toil beyond midnight hours. A single violin strain bites the screeches of grief and pain, of humanity rendered in ruins wrapped in tattered gauze: outlines of freezing shapes coiling in fetal postures, and they drink of yesterday’s broth, wandering, wishing if one brooding star can soften the pain along fences of life where mangled lungs cry in despise. Yet, the candle burns inside their hearts to feed dire hunger of jailed souls as the will to plod an inner odyssey blazes, searching for some need to give this slavery a voice: that birthright of freedom and choice ordained by one divine, universal law... the kind that fires the oneness of all mornings. ............................. Cyndi MacMillan's I Can't Breathe... Contest by nette onclaud ~ Currently, the Human Rights of many women and children are violated in Asia. There are women who are victims of sexual exploitation under military dictatorship, and children who become involved in human trafficking and are forced to work. ~http://hrn.or.jp/eng/g-activity/activista/


Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014

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A Room Full of Butterflies

Inspired by a Art gallery and a poem by Shelly.


A room full of  mottled multicolored butterflies
captured within a creative space
of artful design
to inspire and aspire
Flirt and flutter a delicate ballet
among the pot plants
A splash of color
an oasis
among a drab row of urban gray
The door is opened
and the butterflies are released to freedom
flying high above
lush green trees
in clear unblemished skies
floating like autumn fallen leaves
in a gentle breeze
painted Ladies
that rested on my heart for a while
and made it smile
bringing pleasure to my eye
A symbol of freedom and eternity
filling my dreams
with all the treasures of summer.




Peter Dome.copyright.2013. Sept.


Copyright © Peter Dome | Year Posted 2013

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Earth Cries

My pulse is weak; it flutters while I plead
for air to give my lungs a chance to breathe.
Abuse must stop, or soon my heart will bleed. 

My virgin flesh despoiled and robbed for greed,
in pain I cringe and hide my face in shame.
My pulse is weak; it flutters while I plead.

Entwined in thorns, I’m begging to be freed.
My lips are dry; they thirst for kiss of life. 
Abuse must stop, or soon my heart will bleed. 
 
These ailing limbs, unwilling to concede
defeat, as vibrant echoes numb the mind. 
My pulse is weak; it flutters while I plead. 

Mankind is blind, appears to take no heed.
The soul is lost and time is running out.
Abuse must stop, or soon my heart will bleed.

On verge of suffocation, I’m in need
of love and hope to sprout from hidden seed.		
My pulse is weak; it flutters while I plead.
Abuse must stop, or soon my heart will bleed. 


---------------------------------------------------
Contest: Screwed V ~  August 2015
Sponsor: Rob Carmack
Placed 5th

Contest: Villanelle's and Terzanelle's Only
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
21st June 2015 ~ NA


Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2015

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Grandfather Speaks with Eagles

Irony cries out in Boulet’s rendering. Elderly Native American’s stern expression seems captured beneath eagle’s wings. Symbol of power and freedom, mighty bald eagle was chosen by European ancestors - United State’s national symbol. Yet independence for all was denied. Tribes seeking only to preserve their culture, their way of life, were undeservingly imprisoned on reservations. Stifled was freedom’s speech. Let the eagle’s voice be heard; toleration of injustice carries harsh consequences. Spread your wings, powerful bird, restore harmony to land seduced, neglected, compromised. Transmit tribal elders’ timely message. Human annihilation’s path is cruelly carved when animals and plants face extinction. Mounds of trash blister our land; parched prairies struggle to support life. Sorrowful cries of dying species echo through stripped land, causing songs of despair to resonate. Grandfather, speak with eagles; others appear deaf to your wisdom.
*Written October 15, 2014 and dedicated to late artist Susan Seddon Boulet, whose 2003 painting “Grandfather Speaks with Eagles” is but one of many pieces that evoke emotional response.


Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2014