Garbage Can Poems - Poems about Garbage Can

Getting wise to it

I hate that I let people waste my time.
They'll clutter my head with busy chatter
and I let them unload their garbage.

They walk away without a clue
that they have defecated on my peace.

I keep thinking they'll get wise to it
but they never do and still I say nothing
but maybe just maybe today's the day...



AP: Honorable Mention

Between Rice Field And Garbage

Sometimes, people are missing some dignity here
Of being good and unclean is two different thing
Have we lost some honor to become dishonor then
Can we sometimes be good men than being barbaric
Two days ago when I woke up, nice scenario here
I saw the scenery of rice field, lush and green
Today, I woke up and saw the

Birds' Day

They dive and circle as if in hypnotic state,
Tiny wrens, and ravens, and coal black crows.
When trucks dumps their loads, the flurry of fowl contemplate
Savory morsels or just household throws.

The noise of large tractors, and of sharp shrills and caws,
Of wild wings flapping over a landfill,
The thrown scraps from a table bring the birds to

Garbage Bins

Garbage Bins

I recommend garbage bins outside to 
be spanked, but ...
not publicly. Why? Because 
they stink! Roaches and 
blow flies might 
uphold, defend that action of 
spanking.

The Great Pacific Garbage Patch

there's a second ocean
sprawled like an accident,
a spill of plastic guts and chemical veins
choking what swims,
suffocating the tides
that once dreamed of moonlight and salt.

we did this.
with our coffee cups and straws,
our six-pack rings,
our shiny wrappers crumpled
and forgotten.
a monument to convenience,
an altar to laziness,
floating like the unburied dead
on water too poisoned to sweep.

somewhere out there,
a bird

Garbage

Everyone throws trash/
To the garbage/
How can a person feel/
Like a piece of trash/
When they are always feeling/
Used up and unwanted/
Garbage is beneath us/
To stomp on in life/
People go through life/
Treating us as trash/
Looked down upon/
Garbage thrown in our faces/
Like we are not worth it/
Or anything else in this world/
Which becomes cruel to us/
Feeling like a

A Floating Island of Garbage

Puerto Rico has had a long and proud heritage.
A comedian said it was a "floating island of garbage".
Voiced during a rally for a presidential candidate; 
this was a comment one can easily hate.
That certainly didn't get any laughs from me.
Such a remark was a political travesty.
This person should keep his mouth in a pucker.
That way,

Writing Garbage Just To Feed Myself and Pay The Rent

the keys stick when I type,
the ink smudges on cheap paper,
there’s an old man in the corner
laughing through his dentures at my words.
he knows, I know—
it’s all garbage,
all of it.

writing the same worn-out lines,
spinning circles around rent checks
that will barely clear.
this morning, the phone rang,
and I thought it was hope—
turned out to be another
rejection letter

garbage can bandit

I sit on your garbage can and fiddle with a knob
Your back door shakes a bit, I search for a corn cob
Smash goes the lid to your aluminum garbage can
I am the man, I think now, I am the man!
You are in your kitchen, terrified to see that knob
Slowly move back and forth; my cousin

Garbage Poem

To all the Garbage Throwers 
Who see this as a game 
I just wanted to let you know 
I thank you just the same 

Right after I clean up your garbage 
I see you put it all right back there 
Even if I put it under a rock to bag later
You take it out and

GARBAGE

IT always falls off, from life tree
Whatever is not meant to be
Rotten fruits always falls out
Branches that don't produce
Always cut off, it always falls
What's gonna be gonna be
Fake love, always falls off


Success without firm foundation
Will always falls off, just
Like a building without, right engineer
Old stories, all fall off
Old people, places, falls off
Patterns, falls off
Stagnant energies,

A Garbage Bag When Full

Why is it
that a garbage bag
when full
and being “put out”
will always lean 
in exactly the opposite direction 
to the one you’re aiming for
no matter how you position that bag
before putting it down
intending it to lean away from you
it always, always 
leans towards you 
you can rotate that pesky bag
into a thousand different positions
applying microscopic adjustments
and

Your Love Is Garbage

This has been a huge mistake
All you ever do is take
Without the care or concern
You left me alone to burn
In a fire pit of despair
It is all becoming clear
Your a user and a cheat
Everyday is a repeat
OF the awful day before
Loving you has been a chore
I no longer want to do
I am just fed up

The Reason

" This was first posted in 2024, but it does describe him well, its the reason I may not always seem normal. At that time it was NOT for a contest." The Poet

Conversation with my hubby:

"Dear what day is it?" 
"It's Monday"
"What time is it ?"
"9.30pm" 
"So is it Monday today or tomorrow?"
"Its Monday now.

The Garbage Guys

They usually show up early
Today some came an hour
Ahead, and its only Tuesday
What brought on that enthusiasm in this shower. 

They could have waited until
The storm is over around ten 
Staying at home and 
Lying in their warm bed

But out in this horrible, terrible
Cold, wet weather
In those damp, smelly trucks
How do they endure it altogether

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