Landfills Poems

Better Hurry

Dear Future Generations,

We were selfish and thought only of ourselves
This is why the ozone layer is dead, and you will soon be extinct.
Do not blame yourself for the abundance of rats and explosive landfills.
This too is our fault; we thought only of ourselves.

We were insane consumers, who bought everything in bulk.
Generations before us were busier; they did not have conveniences.
Everything was convenient for us – buying online was convenient.
Making meals was convenient, being selfish was convenient.

We thought of ourselves first, others last.
We were the first generation to do this, and you are paying for it.
We fracked and lumberjacked until the trees and veins of gold were gone.
Please do better than we did but hurry. Your time is limited thanks to us.

Sincerely, The selfish generation

Stone

Stone clad hotels and banks,
stone-faced facades.
Stone monuments carved by old money.

The stone-poor have no stone history,
they will leave no archeology
to be excavated and raised.
Their throw-away artifacts
go to the landfills,
If they have stone. it must be dug up
to clear the way for more hard-scabble.

Here is a celluloid picture,
I am in my prime,
a pretty woman by my side,
we walk a downtown boulevard
where solid stone is raised high.

The image engenders another image,
that same photograph
bursting into flame,
now curling to ash in a grand chimney
and hearthside,
a fireplace that speaks
of an opulent and gilt-edged wealth -
one built of an ageless and abiding
                      stone.

filling up landfills

false teeth
prosthetic arms and legs
diapers
wigs
grenades
expired passports and licenses
human skull
ribbons
plastic bottles
papers by the ton
glass
Styrofoam that never disintegrates
food scraps
filling up landfills one item at a time

Nature's Swan Song

   
   When swallows on the wing, leave whence they came,
   The autumn breeze, plays music with the leaves.
   On trees adorned, with colours of the flame,
   And sway, whichever way the four winds please.

   While mellow misty mornings, blur our eyes,
   Those wizened leaves, now dying, take to flight.
   Soon winds of change, join in with their demise,
   To help them dance macabre, day and night.

   Now nature's never ending carousel,
   Where extreme weather plagues, air sea and land
   And mankind's lifestyle, sounds the earth's death knell,
   Unless toxins misuse, are strictly banned.

   Atmospheres pollution, Raw sewage spills.
   Concrete jungles, Atomic waste landfills.

   8 / 28 /2024.

Daffodils and Landfills

   O, the perfumed scent
     of lilac and daffodil
   You'll never replace the stench
     of the repulsive local landfill

   All hail to New Joisey, the Garden State
     weeds, thorns and thistles your visit await
   Yes, hail to Joisey, where the goils braid the hair
     in their nose with acid rain from polluted air 
  
   Forget your long-stemmed roses and fancy poses
     Gimme the stubby ‘toeses’ of Kardashians
   Broads who look swell ‘til they open their yaps
     Shut-up, honey. Unfasten your brassiere snaps… 

   All hail to New Joisey, the home of the oil slick
     See the pretty colors stream o'er her highways
   Yes, hail to Joisey, where the landscape's pure scum 
     Drink a toast to the reek of her rot ~ cheap Ripple and rum

trash day

the crawling
trash-eating growlers
empty the jettison
of 7 days

strong limbs and gloved hands
heave and haul
tip-over the unwanted tangle
of unmindful chaos

the machine chews loudly

time to go
drag the empty black bins
back into their secluded caves

time to make eggs and bacon
to drop once more
rinds and shells
into plastic landfills

America Dreaming

It is time to get fresh America,
to be plucked wriggling out of that shining sea,
a fresh baked humanity, moon-beam buckled.
Pass no more pay-day-loans
into the purses of the pawn-shopping poor,
give no witness nor evidence
of city shame, and house crud.

America, you can do this.
I am a being from across the world
I am from the ***-end of times,
my transformation, a promise of our mutual destiny,
rampant & manifest, our fate falters
let us be unbridled from
both the prideful and the lackluster,
un-arrested and unmolested
by the land grubbing snipes
or the false-fronted back slappers.
We are better than this blare of ourselves,
and if not
we can make a wooden wagon wheel
from all our legendary days,

It’s not too late, wipe your ass America,
wipe your dirty face. the dusty empire is crumbling
yet our first day is not yet done.
I am ready, ready to soar out of a hundred landfills,
a prismatic dodo embossed upon a tarnished coin
my downy head newly scrubbed of old-time blood.

We Feign Surprise

Look around; the Earth is dying;
the whales and elephants crying.
The honeybee has dwindled down,
the Earth is dying; look around.

Plastic pollutes the world's oceans;
brewing up poisonous potions.
Despite organic substitutes,
the world's oceans; plastic pollutes.

Climate change, tomorrow's forecast,
spurred on by greed, present and past.
Today, renewable sounds strange;
tomorrow's forecast, climate change.

We've overfilled all the landfills
and cut down the trees for sawmills.
Garbage dumps have all been backfilled;
all the landfills we've overfilled.

We feign surprise as glaciers melt
at speeds not previously felt.
Because we'd rather believe lies,
glaciers melt as we feign surprise.

Daffodils

As I sat nestled in the brush,
could I knowingly cast doubt,
no other creature was in a rush,
only humanity wanted out,
poisoned rivers with toxic landfills, 
decorated with dying daffodils.  

All that was garnered through toil,
those long pressuring years,
renewed like crops within soil,
nourished with wantoned tears,
bury me deep under foot and hills,
to rise with blooming daffodils.

Living on luck and a little chance,
darkness transcends to light, 
planted tulips a budding romance, 
sun set reaching out of sight, 
when winter winds bring those chills, 
return beneath with the daffodils.

America Dreaming

It is time to get fresh America,
to be plucked wriggling out of the shining sea,
a fresh baked humanity, moon-beam buckled,
passing yet more pay-day-loans
into the purses of the pawn-shopping poor,
and giving no witness nor evidence
of city shame, and house crud.

America, you can do this.
I am a being from across the world
I am from the ***-end of times,
my transformation, a promise of our mutual destiny,
rampant & manifest,
unbridled from all luckless land grabs.

It’s not too late, wipe your ass America,
wipe your dirty face.
I am ready, ready to soar out of a hundred landfills,
a prismatic dodo embossed upon a tarnished coin
my downy head newly scrubbed of old-time blood.

What Is Under the Ski Hills Though

All ski hills split on the same night.
Landfills beneath were a terrible sight.
Stench-like gasses were such a blight.
Large rats exploded out like dynamite.

Ridiculous ugly unseemly sight.
Gave school children an awful fright.
Screaming bloody murder big and bright.
As rats carried them off into the night.

Beware the Fireworks of Joy

Beware the Fireworks of Joy

It’s 9:30am
It’s Saturday
The winds of time have changed
Smoke is obscuring the future
Of a nation of dreamers.
Nightfall is lost.
In a darkness of righteous rhetoric
Toothless dragons spewing flameless fire
Exhale the remains of previous failures
In noxious nuances of hope’s lunacy.
Daybreak is muted in the gray pall
Of hatred’s hangover
Coating the pond in anger’s angst
Banning the flight of migratory species
Coating the lily pads in distant dust.
Time is meaningless to those
Who speak of “when”
For past and present are
And are not.  And yet
They must be joined
By the now, in the now,
Or they will be condemned
To a never changing present.
Science has proved
And disproved itself
Erred in its “infallible” wisdom
Swept the detritus of its denial
Into the graveyards and landfills
While claiming innocence and immunity.
Beware the fireworks of joy
For they may ignite
The spark of a rebellion.


John G. Lawless
©5/1/2021

City of God Or Cities of Man

B Before the Virus may be a reckoning among calendars
A As we deal with one bigger than Depression, topsy-turvy times -
B Before Virus (BV) I loved the World Markets, welcomed China
Y Yuan, Yen, Dollar, Pound ... though some weakened ours, the Rand
L Losing confidence, or hubris now, what do we do as we reduce travel?
O Oh, of course there is the internet. Only our City wants people. Lots!
N Now, AV (After Virus) we water veggie patches, returning to village lives

I In fear of another pandemic, or Great Depression. Trump lost a trump card
S Someone forget to tell us, "CITIES" are a bad way to grow nations

F Filth and gain, creativity and perfidy, grow with shamelessness in a city
A And not to mention the waste produced, entitlement, so much polluted
L Leaving to hinterland to offer landfills - plus the enormity of sewage!
L Leave the city, the City of the World, for you do access another
I In the Last Days, the City of Man will not stand, not even feed itself
N Now is the time - whether you pray or not - to go back to DESIGN
G God for me, or Eternity With Name, gave Ezekiel a blueprint for The City

Forgetting the Frog

the horned toad
was told he
couldn't be
a frog

or a
prince
no matter
how horny 

he was
but his head 
doctor not a shrink
was of the phrenological

kind
feeling 
the lay of 
the land and

filling in
landfills and 
landmines mind you
remember this time when

pressing a lump
to sum it up
this was
when

you
we're
seven
and you

decided
to ride your
skateboard as
if you were catching

a wave
but what
saved you was
your stubbornness

and so today you come
to me asking what
does this one
mean and

i see
well what
i mean is my
fingers talk for me

but
this is 
a bump
of life and

love
that is
with my
touch seems

to be
from this
morning when
you forgot your

anniversary

The Water Bottle

The Water Bottle

It was a Tuesday evening
The date was the third
The foreman was late
The plastic was slurred
Then fizz pop bang
The mold gave way
And out I sprang
I was born today
At 16.9 fl. oz.
I was pretty good size
I was placed on a conveyer
With the rest of the guys
I was filled with water
My cap sealed tight
Packaged with my team
Waiting for my flight
It's now a week later
I'm packed in a cooler
Surrounded by ice
But not from a jeweler
Then SHE picked me up
Removed my cap
Placed her lip on mine
And my world went snap
When she was finished
I was tossed in the trash
My life was over
It went up in a flash
Oh the life of a water bottle
It doesn't seem fair
We're toxic to landfills
But the world doesn't care

• Short Landfills Poems
• Famous Landfills Poems
• Best Landfills Poems
• Read Landfills Poems
• Long Landfills Poems
• Landfills Quotes