I don't lament
Rather I feel pleased
Learning from one new things
While leaving the task I know well
Brain once occupied by theories, question and researches
Converted into beautiful way of cleaning
Natures and environment
Welcoming every season with calm and compuser
I now get idea which month trees loose leaves and branches in UK
AC to Adlerian psychology
We are responsible for our life
So I think I choose this work myself
Sometimes ranting and raving emotion flows
I quivered myself inside duvet
My heart says don't lament as this job contains best payment
Taking the trolley from east to west
Cleaning heart of king cross
Granary square is the best
With lots of fountain and children park
Well by career shifting it feels pain
But this changes welcome
whole ways of viewing things
I am grateful to god what I get
The Earth isn't dying—no, she's screaming, a sound you've stopped hearing.
she cried when girls walked miles for rusted, tainted water,
when ancient forests become forgotten, ash–filled pyres,
no worn map ever dared to mark.
In my homeland,
we don't fear the tempest's furious might.
We fear the silence –
The hollow echo of empty, cracked wells,
the desolate stretch of barren, parched fields,
The early,unforgiving digging of our graves.
They label us “developing,”
yet we are always the very first to drown,
The very first to wither from hunger's bite,
The very first to forfeit a future
we never, ever sought to destroy.
They peddle green, plastic-wrapped illusions.
“Eco.” “Clean.”
As if mere words could somehow
unscorch the blazes from the sky.
But behold, we stand–
girls with bare hands, replanting the struggling forests,
boys coding, fighting against the swift collapse,
children marching, with fierce fire in their lungs.
I continue to write.
Because even now,
The Earth, in her enduring wisdom, still believes in us.
Ponder the old pestles and mortars
used at times in apothecaries,
older drug emporium quarters.
Some of the porous surface was shared
by grinding both mortar and pestle
ending up in medicines prepared.
Do today's microplastics alarm you?
Minute particles endanger us all;
microwavable repercussions? Whew!
Unique
Elite swimmer
brown, tailless, Pied-billed Grebes
can float, dive or simply submerge
graceful
dark eyes
cinnamon tone
heard but not often seen
rear end feet, lobed toes, poor flier
gawky
small bird
solitary
widespread, but rarely seen
dramatic silent crash-diver
decent
patient
near to nest bowl
I hide in marsh water
to capture still clear reflection
I wait
Saving our only home
The world should be clean.
The world should be green.
Throw the waste in the dustbin.
And the world will come one step closer to being clean.
Day by day it is getting worse and dirtier.
Holding up the pain of being untidy
The earth carries a lot of people.
The earth wanted to be a planet where humans could live forever.
Earth wanted to have humans, however
Humans are not willing to be earthians now.
They only want to leave the planet. How?
Humans are fed up with the planet they destructed.
They are finding the planet where new life could be constructed.
The earth is worried about its health and ours too.
And this responsibility begins with you.
Before Mother Earth forgets its purpose.
Taking care is a responsibility that begins with us.
Kicked at it, thought it was just
another cigarette butt
half-buried in street slime—
but it was a small, dead moth,
wings crushed, soft dust sticking
to my rubbery shoe.
Why do those planes
Paint lines in the sky,
Leaving grey toxic trails,
Leaving us wondering why?
Our lasting legacy lies not,
In the towering stone structures,
But in,
The forests we nurture,
The oceans we safeguard, and
The skies we keep pure.
In shopping centres, bright and wide,
Where our dreams can fly and glide,
We wrap our hearts in things we've bought,
Forgetting stars, by city lights caught.
Yet, whispers of change might find their way,
As people stand up, by the ocean's spray.
Our Earth, they say, is worth more than play,
A future where green and blue can stay.
We must think over, our habits laid out,
With seas of plastic, and skies of doubt.
It's in our actions, clear and stout,
To choose to live, to truly shout.
To save our home, we should all band,
From dawn's light to night's last stand.
It's up to us, to lend a hand,
A fight for right, across the land.
But history's glance, so sharp and keen,
Will judge what we might have been.
In future's tale, it would be seen,
Our legacy, like a lost green dream.
Yet, it must have been right in our clasp,
To mend the breaks, to free the grasp.
And we could have chosen a kinder path,
For Earth, a haven, not aftermath.
environmental
lies specter dust that rises
crystalline form such
~
glistening drops rain
frozen rainfalls snowflake falls
dissipates waters
~
collectively dust
frozen drops of rain falling
to the ground falls snow
1/8/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2024
They're played but a ridiculous role,
Rather giving the thing a long pole:
I tell you bleeding many a heart:
One could see their billions in a cart!
At the cities' garbage glances stole,
Their hearts quite hard the blackest charcoal:
That's never a way to in wealth bask,
Leaving what partly should be one's task.
To who wants them to make it a goal
He also wants them to out cash dole!
So, it has been everywhere furnace,
Guys who unload their trailers Menace.
If one saw where they slept would wilt,
At nights human wastes on tar built...
To CO-VID 19 Campaigns most kind,
Because a lot of big laurels did mind;
To its sweet publicity not blind:
They shall in newspapers their names find...
"Yes, in the streets one can see the dirt
But none would dare to stick to my shirt."
I sat by the dewy morning grass,
as a robin drew scrawls in the air
with her melodious voice.
The sun's gaze prickled my skin,
as the breeze twirled between
evergreen leaves of a Willow tree.
Chilly water flowing beside my feet,
we raced each other in the rocky springs,
sitting by the bank to compare the rocks we’d seen.
Drenched in the autumnal winds' cool touch,
we’d dance in piles of fallen leaves.
We stood by the rusty train tracks,
shrubs overgrown between metal cracks,
and picked the wildflowers
to braid in each other's hair.
Yet, they were only fragments of a dream
delicate memories like the petals of
a forget-me-not,
an illusion made to escape the world
we destroyed to reach our aims.
So quickly, everything changed
Nothing feels the same
Our creation has been transformed
As nature is now different
Rivers are tainted with toxic rainbows
Skies are empty of flying birds
Toxic chemicals traveled miles across borders
An estimated 43,700 animals are dead
All in 5 miles from the chemical burn site
Why, oh why, didn't they cool the train
And transfer these harmful chemicals?
Why did they rush to burn the chemicals?
Turned into a chemical weapon to ruin lives?
Land is tainted, people are sick, lthe environment is changed!
This will last for years to come , years to see!
So much will keep on changing through seasons
It is in the soil and tests prove the acid rain
God's precious creation has now been attacked
What we will witness that will continue to change?
Cruelty rules, pain spreads for miles, stealing smiles!
Heidi Sands
2/23/23
In the land of the inherently interesting,
I sit above and watch the vastness of this divine story.
Where spirits live in moving clay,
and the clouds above pregnant with anticipation,
and the green below our feet sings the beauty of a jealous lover.
Where the head rules the heart,
and love is for the dead...
and the rush is now succumbing to a deluded happy ending.
In the land of the inherently interesting,
I sit above and watch the effortlessness that goes into destroying it all.
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