Long Pesticide Poems
Long Pesticide Poems. Below are the most popular long Pesticide by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pesticide poems by poem length and keyword.
The bees with wings
The bees are dying out
for someone who gets stung
it is not to gloat over,
but a matter of survival
for humankind and the fauna
around us.
There are four big trees outside
the apartment building
birds come there to rest
In the evening,
but they are not the destroyer of bees
pesticide is and
we keep glad-handing
this stuff over field and plants.
humanity in the quest to
produce better crops will in the end
kill us all.
When evening comes to the birds
make a racket like
A Japanese train station at five,
stressed people are killing themselves
so stop blaming the bees.
Over here in an Emotional plebiscite;
Knowing it's do or die
Sparked by emotional suicide
These feelings linger like a pesticide,
While I'm trying to go overdrive.
Finally asking myself why!?
Why?
Why does this feel like emphatic repetition,
Being manipulated by my perceptive premonitions,...
Is this fate..
Or is it just intuition
Oh curse these feelings of judgemental superstition!
How I wish for cognitive bliss;
To escape from my eternal cage of undue stress.
And elope with my loving mistress or rather a damsel in distress.
What is my definition of happiness?
What am I to be? Elated or saddened by trivial destinies pursued.
It is said that those that live in the past remain unamused;
But I refuse to listen!
Am I wrong for reliving moments from my past to feel contented;
or am I just another demented Soul.
Haunted by my unconscious consciousness;
Justifying my 'skeletons in the closet ' as assimilated heirlooms..
"Oh God! someone pass me a broom!"
As I sweep my past from my conscious and fumigate my overflowing closet,
may these feelings of promiscuous intentions and cognitive dissonance be purged from my unwilling conscious!
Copyright © Emmanuel Nyeko! Year Posted 2019
You flit around the marshes and in places warm and wet.
as a beetle you’re about as bright as any bug can get!
You have a tiny flashlight built into your small tummy,
but for foes, your bio-luminescence is not yummy!
Though when a creature tastes you, they’re sure to spit you out,
There’s something even better that your light is all about!
You’re looking for a sweetie when you flash your little glow,
and when you synchronize in groups, it’s like a disco show!
How I loved to chase you when I was just a kid,
and I’d catch you in a jar with holes poked in its lid.
That wasn’t nice of me. It must have caused you fright.
You were only lending magic to my summer night.
How I miss you, lightning bug, known as firefly.
And how I wish that I could see you in this western sky.
Even in the Midwest state that I left behind
I hear you are becoming more difficult to find.
Too many fields paved over; no places you can hide.
Too many lights from people and too much pesticide.
People use their headlights; this is confusing you.
Your blinking light gets all mixed up. You don’t know what to do.
Fewer are the places where, dear firefly, you can stay.
How sorry we will all be when your magic fades away!
Written July 16, 2016 for the contest of David Lindsay
Many years have now passed, a message from my father,
sarcastically me he did chide
You won't live any longer,
from the lifestyle you have chosen to abide
My response to that remark,
it's not quantity of life that I seek
But quality every day, to live a healthy lifestyle
that will constantly keep me at my peak
So I looked at health insurance schedules
to assist achieve my aim
The first one called a universal scheme
well that one, it didn't fit the game
Illness insurance
is what it should be termed
Doesn't stop the sick, be they rich or poor
escape illness, they can both become infirmed
So the health insurance scheme
I chose to incorporate
Follows laws of nature, starting with,
carefully selecting everything I ate
Food free of pesticides,herbicides and fungicides
all produced with love care and passion
No commercial agricultural produce
For me these poisons are along way out of fashion
The use of early morning sun
stimulates the hormone melatonin
Unwinding resulting, early in the night followed by a restful sleep
from another hormone secretion seratonin
Exercising in the form,
of running every day
Whilst breathing through the nose,
both in and out, that's the recommended way
There are many other methods to keep the body healthy
I don't have lots of money
But wellness is my way of being wealthy
Let’s take this outside
Your turn to be objectified
Necktied offside and brutified
Come step outside
Where you can no longer hide
Now you and me can collide
You’re worse than godzilla’s bride
Torpefied and vilified
Uglified, mean and evil-eyed
Always snide and undignified
Ringside, in your false pride
the eyes of Hitler recognized
Executing his genocide
Feeling justified nationwide
Lately I’ve been preoccupied
With thoughts of homicide
Accident by countryside
broadside you flip side
See you land in the fireside
For all the misery aside
you put me through - testified
Is your meanness really classified
I’m no longer taking it - qualified
I‘m no longer hiding it - quantified
No more excuses - are you satisfied?
Germicide and pesticide
Have you ever tried
To drink a ton of formaldehyde
To soften up your cowhide
Now we can go back inside
Your reign of terror on override
You’re toast and you’re fried
You’re been hogtied and humanified
Stupefied and rectified
Just as prophesized
AP: Honorable Mention 2025, Honorable Mention 2025
Submitted on May 16, 2018 for contest 8-MILE STYLE POETRY CONTEST sponsored by NICK TRIM - RANKED 4TH
Flowers blossomed as times travel through low level hums. Time turned water into ice and my lovely daughter into earth; naturally so grateful for such time.
Busy bees, pollinators of the year; eighty-five billion consecutive times in a row; both honey and bumble bees celebrate, together... No kind of man has discovered a better way to pollinate crops than the reigning pollinators of the year.
Deep inside what limited jungle remains, some kind of man ties a white feather to hornet, so to seek. A long, dark, skinny finger points at the nest as the hives form a defense; the hornets quickly break the feather free, just moments too late—the hive has been made.
A bamboo shoot is rigged with a clothe, bathed in ignition agent; true organic pesticide. Set ablaze, once steadily smoldering, a bamboo catapult is raised into perfect position to kill the queen and run off; the swarm—remnants left behind this tactical slaughter—tasty larvae delicacy for these kind of people.
But these kind of people are rare; honorable kinfolk, kinds of people that civilized kind of people degradingly refer to as wild, third world beings.
As man continues his rampage against time and earth—third world civilization would appear the more civilized life for all kinds of people; bees too.
Buzzing mosquito
Celebrates my arrival
With a nice big bite
Skin slathered with pesticide
Will mosses give me a break!
Favourite target
I'm like medium rare steak
Beyond endurance
Miniature vampires eat me
Calamine lotion on bites.
Initially, I wrote a piece that rhymed then when I re-read rules realised it was a Tanka the sponsor wanted. So here goes with my redundant piece....
Malicious mosquito is not my friend
Hatched to bite until their end
My skin slathered in pesticide
No place to go, nowhere to hide.
Calamine lotion on all my bites
Beginning to look an absolute fright
Have enjoyed sun now I'm cooked
Avoiding mirror just can't look.
Will bloody mosses give me a break
I'm favourite target, medium rare steak
Frustrated, miserable where is that plane?
Holiday in sun! No, never again.
Bugs
Poetry Contest
Sponsored
by
M. L. Kiser
The vale of the rich
A strange place houses as big as castles tall forbidding walls
on top of broken glass in cement: gates that can withstand
armoured tanks.
Lush dale but no humming bees or bird song too much pesticide
for the sake of beauty, what’s left is graveyard peace.
I sat on my bike for an hour in the hope of seeing people, but no.
Each palace was like an islet cut off from the world outside,
here they need no one and no one needs them, splendid isolation
Like an asylum of the weary madness.
Just as I was to leave a hearse pulled up an iron gate, the gate
opened and let, well even rich people must die, prisoners of wealth.
I ought to take some of them outside, so they see a bit of real-life
before a hearse arrives.
Acid has become our rain
and oceans with mercury do we stain
dioxin lies beneath our ground
in everything toxic materials be found
E-coli is used to alter genes in food
where recombinant DNA is understood
heavy metals do the population addle
as the health industry lose continuing battle
With the law makers do the inhabitants contend
and a wealthy man can the laws amend
documented information on man's pollution
yet nobody seems to have a solution
Programs that show if man were to die
nature herself would repurify
at 300 years would be the retaking
of only a portion of what mankind is making
Desecration upon desecration upon the land
mankind destroys himself with his own hand
no amount of law can change our ways
our own nature fallen since ancient of days
Scientists who study regeneration
pursue this path with great fascination
they know that the body should heal itself
but understand not sin and it's stealth
Deserts now stand where nature did blossom
the amount of the damage is beyond awesome
ground waters filled with pesticide
about it's effects have governments lied
Asbestos and arsenic and lead just a few
adversely affect the body nothing new
tons upon tons of toxins released to our air
and only for wealth do manufacturers care
Seabirds and mammals die from plastic trash
the production of garbage for making of cash
forest and savannahs are being depleted
in soil degradation are crops being seeded
With love for our earth the concerned have their say
but the pursuers of wealth do get their way
the destroyers of earth with God will clash
but this system of things will Jesus dash
sources Gen. 6:11 Eze.9:1-6 Matt. 6:24
Luke 16:13 Revelation 11:18
reading and study of science
COPYRIGHT © 2010 C. Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Marijuana from a farm in Oklahoma
Chemicals added that could put you in a coma
Grown by a Chinese Mafia, on American land
They don't care if you die by their hand.
Marijuana from a Siskiyou County farm
Once few sheriffs were needed, such little harm
Now the Hmong come in, want locals out
More trouble that your marijuana is about.
(Chorus)
Just one dumb mistake
It seems so unfair
They don’t like you
And they don’t care
Was this hit your last stand?
Will it take you to the promised land?
If you believe, you can say a prayer
But they don't like you and they don’t care.
Ghouls add fentanyl, then laugh at your last high
Some add nitazenes, trace amounts can make you die
It’s your body, your choice, but the rule is cruel
You could pay with your life for their pocketful.
Maybe you don't like yourself
Maybe that's why
But whatever damage to your health
The poisoners won't cry.
The U.S., even China, will ban a pesticide
But take the weed, and on your body it is applied
Workers are treated harshly on these marijuana farms
Shouldn't that raise some alarms?
You say you're against global warming, well, growers use power
They steal electricity, while neighbors cower.
Mafias branch out, find other crimes to do
Please care about the USA, if you don't care about you.
Even the politicians who say 'legalize'
have suspect motives, it's you they despise
Legal pot actually is a cover for what these growers do
The whole scene is a shame, are you ashamed of you?