Best Contaminants Poems
Our supposed modern scientific genius
May in fact just be our last fatal weakness.
This technological house of cards we've made
Left humanity walking along the edge of a razor blade.
How much could you buy or sell using debit or credit
If someone or something wiped out the internet.
A computer virus, terrorists, hackers, or an E.M.P.--
Will wipe out our hard-earned wealth eventually.
Killing beneficial insects is almost like fratricide.
Think really hard again about ever using insecticide.
How many fields of vegetable plants and fruit trees
Will ever bear fruit if there are no more bees.
Rather than organically producing more living topsoil,
We're killing what remains with chemicals derived from oil.
As chemical contaminants follows their downward motions,
Choral reefs and plankton are dying in the oceans.
As a species, we've all become germ-o-phobic neurotics,
Religiously trying to kill all microbes with antibiotics.
But pharmaceutical medicine will never defeat every bug,
So one of these days there's certain to be a super plague.
So will we all starve because we cannot buy or sell,
Or because the oceans and farmlands have all gone to Hell?
Will we be extinguished by some invincible virus?
What ever it be, the fault will probably lie in us!
I wish I could offer some brilliant inspired solution,
But remember that extinction is also a part of evolution.
You may write me off as some kind of nutty alarmist,
But people that know me consider me to be an optimist.
10/17/19
"Brand New"
I'd be damned to quit
Putting out some brand new s***
With a brand new drip
In my a step a brand new skip
Brand new tint
Steering wheel with a brand new grip
In a brand new whip
With a brand new chick
On my hip a brand new stick
With a brand new clip
The man who's lit
Got a brand new script
Just picked up a brand new zip
And a brand new brick
No better time to make a brand new flip
Never been brand new to it
It was time to get a brand new skiff
So I bought a brand new ship
Blessed with a brand new gift
As well as a brand new shtick
On my shoulder a brand new chip
Ready to take care of this brand new itch
Towing a trailer, in a brand new truck with a brand new lift
And a brand new hitch
Found a brand new niche
Only out for brand new not no kitsch
Accomplished it, and now got a brand new wish
Currently on a brand new mish
While solving a brand new twist
Companies advertising a brand new pitch
She got surgery for some brand new ti**
In a state of brand new bliss
In the air a brand new drift
The tectonic plates near a brand new shift
Soon in the sky a brand new eclipse
Purchased some brand new kicks
About to use some brand new tricks
All these brand new cliques
And brand new pricks
I'm going to handle it
In the dark, don't need no candlestick
It's my problem, so i'm dipping my hand in this
Stunning crafts like amulets
A planet full of inhabitants
Areas full of contaminants
Sitting atop their palaces
People obsessed with extravagance
Others starving and ravenous
Not all became graduates
Some got into accidents
Causing a state of paralysis
Folks so haplessness
This life is nothing short of fabulous
The verdict wasn't always unanimous
Still into cannabis
But not abstinence
Got it done, regardless of short handedness
Near and far from waters with platypus
I'm working on my own analysis
The results shall be nothing short of miraculous
By: Dalton Ogletree
my soles sneakers
are free of contaminants~
a walk through the rain
Written: December 23, 2022
A HIKU PREMIER Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
As I'm looking across the horizon of blue
There I soulfully know are wars tearing our
countries and bombing many homes,
And ruined many economic businesses of few,
Lest they have ruined, ruined many a homeland
thus destroyed.
There are a hopelessness and forlorn of poverty
Among the innocent children, clothed in rags,
They're also drinking and eating polluted
contaminants which makes them frail,
Is there not a higher power of fruition to
bring a balanced moral of support.
Suffer not the little children; is there a greater
Kingdom for all to walk in harmony or amnesty.
Is there or can there be a quest for all our people
here on earth?
To reign peace and prosperity to one and all
This could be a great creation to establish and
stabilize an equal balance upon the fruition on earth.
Written: 10,26,2014
Theresa
I am house shopping
with the required Buyer's Agent,
also a fairly tolerant friend of mine.
She likes to drive
although not gifted with any sense of direction,
until we hurriedly arrive,
then she beelines into the ubiquitously requisite lock box
as if by smell.
Meanwhile
I visit current occupants,
the trees first and foremost,
then bushes
flowers,
occasionally, to my grateful surprise,
an entire garden,
or even just one vegetable,
a tomato plant,
a humble gang of shaded herbs.
I ask them how it is here
in their home.
I like to taste their soil
for signs of pregnancy
but who knows what contaminants
might fester here.
And my real estate agent,
although a friend,
finds it unseemly
for me to put my mouth around
what I probably won't buy.
She, too soon,
coaxes me away from my greet and meets
with shade-givers
and grasses,
the edible and ornamental neighbors
of the "big house,"
to explore the darkness of plumbing
and electrical systems,
attics and basements,
kitchens and bathrooms...
Her list of boring things to look at
and too often smell
in a bad way
feels endless
in comparison to too brief introductions
outside,
speaking with,
listening for,
hoping and faithing and loving with
any signs of life
among these large majority of property historians,
co-investors,
cooperative care-givers and receivers.
Eventually,
it becomes our time to aimlessly wander around
in search of yet another lock box
on our life For Sale list.
I say goodbye to the trees
and shrubs,
my occasional edible
and more popular ornamental hosts,
far too soon
to ever learn
if they would choose me
or not
to become with them.
I feel like I do
on election nights
when winners and losers are announced
by statistical projection
before votes are actually counted
from all us co-investors;
and long before registered voters
have listened to trees
still standing in our yards,
on our farms,
in our fertile forests,
to learn their quieter discernment
of which candidates produce more healthy cooperative outcomes
and which more toxic competitions
within these diversities
of Earth's wealthy nature.
I used to fish from the banks of a lake next to our farm
many many years ago. My fishing gear consisted
of a thin branch cut from a willow tree. For a hook
I used a needle my mom gave me. I would use pliers
and hold it over a fire.
Then I would bend it to form a hook. For a line, I would
use white sewing thread. For bait, I would use mom’s
cookie doe and shaped small balls and place them on my home-made hook.
I remember the blue green water of the lake where one
could drink without fear of contaminants. I would
use a match stick for a bobber and caught numerous perch and crappy. Mom would clean them and cook them in lard she made herself.
Life was simple then. Dad and Mom were always together and would often held hands as they walked to the grocery store. The air was so clean and pure that breathing was like inhaling nature. I would listen to the silence and my thoughts
were so clear and simple. I knew who I was and where I came from.
Oh, how I miss those carefree days.
Military Industrial Complex out to enslave the masses/
Save your asses from these genocidal, dangerous facists/
They’re releasing gaseous anthrax to take breath outta me/
Our Social Security Numbers are used for their death lottery/
The Bermuda Triangle is a training zone used to sink your ships/
Satellites equipped with death rays at the illumanti’s fingertips/
Mandatory brainwashing techniques used to baffle vets/
Coded messages with the withheld thirty letters of the alphabet/
Biparty electoral system to disguise true dictatorship/
Hitler alive and well and in charge of ‘Project Paperclip’/
Freemasons blast at the ozone layer with fatal contaminants/
Preparing the atmosphere for the coming of alien inhabitants/
Race of supermen nourished by Roswell’s special consumption/
Induction to secret society through extraterrestrial abduction/
Production of mass destruction is at the heart of industry/
Tracking devices in our teeth through the art of dentistry/
Nano technological implants inserted in our lymph nodes/
Knowing our position through twenty dollar bar strip codes/
Satan’s army convenes in a pentagram shaped Aryan facility/
West Nile used to test mosquitoes’ disease carrying ability/
Medical teams with tainted vaccines swirl death over a nation/
This elite squad of assassins is the World Health Organization/
Testing AIDS and Ebola viruses on unwitting third world subjects/
With unheard success, perfect murders with no unfurled suspects/
Don’t look at me like that! I’m not paranoid! Take heed I say!/
One out of ten emcees on this board really work for the C.I.A/
They’re all around us and their true intention’s malevolent/
Inspecting the internet searching for the dissenting element/
Video games aren’t irrelevant. Here evil is really resident/
Look how fast they silence me if I say ‘Kill the Pres..
6/26/17
You don't want to be caught in the cross hairs
Realize that at times life is not fair
After having minimal guidance
I stood in pure silence
With very little thoughts of violence
While I was trying to understand the science
Nearby some oak and ecualapytus, the size of giants
I worked on my self-reliance
And a broken down appliance
That sat lifeless
Then followed through on any assignments
No desire to forfeit this
In the first stage of metamorphosis
During times of water shortages
Tired of all this boring stuff
But I'm just warming up
From morning past dusk
Power outages and interruptions
Technical difficulties and malfunctions
Across all junctions
And near any ships intact or sunken
It either went with or against custom
In a world full of power and corruption
Don't count your chickens before they hatch
And expect it all to last
Especially if you didn't study up on all the facts
They say lose lips
Sink ships
Even cruise ships
And any big fish
I help up my two fists
But didn't expect anyone to dig this
Even though this all has been true ****
For many, it always made them think a bit
I try to make it all worthwhile
So we can see the people on Earth smile
Except for any that try to hurt a child
My style is compiled
From all the traveled miles
Even though it's still rather wild
Life, nothing short of miraculous
Above and below buried and unearthed amethyst
Near and far from fields growing radishes
Among objects moving or inanimate
Like a mannequin
You can hear the sounds of an occasional ambulance
Whether or not involving, accidents or something scandalous
Some of which occured over, cannabis and short-handedness
Cause minimal to much damages
Close to and beyond any contaminants
As well as inhabitants
It all couldn't be unanimous
And this is far from my final analysis
Virtue flee and vice will come
A new observation I made today
The things I do not want
Are always in the way
When what I desire most
Tetters me pining at some sturdy post.
Here comes cockroaches trekking on the table
Here comes rats my hate to disable
Here comes flies knotting up my space
And spiders threading desert place
I little use, even for waste
Here comes gobs of green fungus
Turning black on a cloth of white
There is so much oddity in my race
That I share with every man
We do what we do not want
And what we want we can't
Resolutions are a shamble in this place
They creep and crawl
Infectious desires
Contaminants of everthing but fire
I cannot let this in.
standing in the line i feel the pressure, scolding, start to build,
i feel their each and every iris as they climb the height of my structure,
this fortress i was forced, by fear in youth, to unearth and bare in hand,
with time has weathered thin and i with it feel increasingly translucent.
mutter and glance, hands attempt to contain their maintenance.
to look and to listen, not a single tone to note or color to perceive.
their contaminants infiltrate my ventilation, the stench is sickening,
pulse erratic and mind askew, i flee, steps fueled by incubated haste,
cause comes to such effect even the beaten path is bruised by its confusion.
the archway constitutes a sigh and with that a slow of pace,
fumbling finger over fidget, pocket full with whispers coaching panic on its way.
the breathe of smoking paranoia shrugs a calming gesture.
a wink of timid silliness and nurtured nature bring to mind,
how, even aware of relevance, dissimulation fogs the clouds.
POLLUTED HEART
Thirsty soil parches in scorching summer
Sucks liquid crystal drops of sparkling rain
Stores in deep aquifer pure groundwater
Brought to surface, pure it doesn’t remain
From humans contaminants it obtains.
Lone heart freezes in the dark of winter
Blooms in joy when colors of spring enter
Weaves tapestry of pristine love within
Abused by black mist of lust it welters
In polluted heart love stops to flow clean.
April 1, 2018
Syllable count: 10 each line
Rhyme : ababb ccdcd
Should sin imagined need that we atone
For angles lying equilaterally prone?
Conjunctive on an even parity
Of head and toed triangularity.
Passion shaped by she and he and she,
Yet friendship, understanding holds the key;
Pyramidal the power of the prism,
A dark side of the moon eroticism.
And though the devil days need exorcism,
Night in liquid silk somnambulism
Moulds the flesh and satiates the brain,
Three sides to every story they remain.
Arise convention's bones and drab disdain
At value judged contaminants again;
The Triad burning love when night must fall,
Embraces all for one and one for all.
Although a withered tree possesses a charm of its own,
aside from elegance, what should this old man do,
because not even possess a taste of ordinary
but he is the man of base, the incarnation of disgust.
If wrinkled face covered with ugly age spots,
clumsy shaking hands with swollen finger joints,
mucus filled clogged throat with foul breath,
arched stiff body with fetid body odor,
are all for the aged, with what shall we distinguish the means of life.
If the point where the word beauty no longer bears any meaning
to an old man anymore is the place for him to roam
stepping on the rays of the setting sun with remorse,
he should, if not all the truth, at least sustain empty mind
in his stiffening body, rather then spread bad breath in the air,
that may be caused from the curse he made to the world,
piles and piles of bad mouths he made to harm others,
and ill wishes he made from envies toward neighbors with his
small but destructive tongue, rotted and gives off the stinking odor?
The offensive odor from the body
may also be the same as of the foul breath, because it caused
from contaminants polluting the body from taking a bath jumping into any water
if he sees one on the roadside.
If there is an easy way out or shortcut,
did not give any consideration but, instantaneously,
took this easy way.
If he finds an empty space,
not even a moment of thought, rushed to there,
sat, laid and rolled over to enjoy the space of his own.
Since wrong cannot last long
he shouldn’t see, hear or speak anymore
but leave the world without an apprehension of others.
Nevertheless, what shall the old man do!
Because life is a cycle of retribution
and is the reason he is still breathing.
And because he is breathing, he undergoes never-ending torture
suffocated by his own body odor that became an intolerable reek,
groaning for persisting pain twisting stiffened body,
while he continues seeing, hearing and mumbling.
Rapacious Itch
It felt things coming,
The undeniable bottom feeder reality,
Where thought had no credulity,
Where irrational emoting ruled,
Void of mind’s prep,
Blind of light’s revealing purpose.
Such remained
This well-rehearsed and produced
Pulp life infestation.
It remembered…
Once many clambered to the marble steps,
Where dreams born of teachings
Promised delivery of reward.
But today…
All that is found
Is perpetuation of schoolyard practices,
Where bullying,
Mocking,
And “my dick is bigger than your dick” war-cries
Intimidate life’s playground with slippery slopes.
Down 5th Avenue,
Up Park Avenue,
The viral contaminants parlay their wears,
A far more contagious disease than Ebola.
And it knows…
Unlike a possible cure for a biological virus,
This consumerism equation seems without solution,
Given little of non-material worth remains
Visible on the species’ blackboard mess.
Today’s squirming parade of absence
Is dominated by the pounding of urban-warrior chests,
Of Armani jackets atop unlaced “made-to-look-raunchy” boots,
Ken Doll fantasies courting the strut of Barbie Doll dreams
Clicking attention with stiletto heels
Beneath ripped shorter than short-short insecurity.
On it spreads,
Past the Wall Street reviewing stands,
Where unlike the fickle nature of society’s infection,
Market makers understand a fever’s ups and downs,
Vulnerability’s capricious norm endorsing today’s
Debauchery fashion to Trump-taste,
Loudness to drown out worthy music,
Shock to shatter the true awe of discovery,
And the drowning of excellence
As it continues its desperate clinging,
All while mediocrity’s narcissistic sell-off
Creates another closing-bell windfall.
The pestilence holds firm its lock on discernment’s immune system,
Mutating daily into a mind-shrinking captivity,
A synaptic virulence rapidly rendering this once simple discomfort
Into an insatiable itch that will never realize its pursuit of “Ah!”.
She's just a mall goth skank in Courtney Love's flesh. Digital jail bait. Open wound scissor sisters. The cure is deep inside. Divinity embedded within skeletal matter, salvation within my hands. Lobo Cristo devoured his flock. Carved em' up like the bread of God. Disfigured Christians dancing and twitching to their own rhythms and convulsions. When the time is ripe, I'll cut some moonlight into your belly and spill you deep into the soil, Cuz my blade is thirsty and clean. I'm prone to get ugly, grimmy, and mean. Rabid Believers and their closed casket ceremonies. Remember, nothing you do matters in the end. Everyone will be forgotten at some point. Wasting your last breath on a Virgin whore, as you aspirate upon your own gore. Holy Ghost Sedo-masicist on the TV screen. Just contaminants within the cultural confines of American decline. If you're not apart of the herd, you'll be apart of the hill. It's all neurological at this point. You wouldn't hate me so much if you'd pull your own weight. Bloated belly and tetanus, You're just a panhandler outside of Heaven's Gate. Lucifer's warm amber light, like electric sugar. Warming my bones to the core,... Cascading comfort and enlightenment within tranquil notes. Down the hall, screams of a woman. By her own lacerations. Visceral.