Prohibit plastic production please
impose a moratorium then ban it
as it has proliferated to the point
of permanently polluting our planet
permeating people poisoning pets
pervading places
from the peak of Mount Everest
to the Great Pacific Garbage Patch
and yet you'll even catch PVC
at the bottom of the sea
as 95 percent of packaging
is used in one-and-done products
if we don't take the process to heart
personally do our part
possibly throttle
the genie already out of that bottle
which predominates the population
and the plague persists
it has the potential for propagation
'til we've had it up to here
with a plethora of polymers
coming out our ears
Finery Winery resides down Amble Bramble Road
they make vintage bubblies created by old Todd Toad
His ideas are unique, his packaging is more than fine
His tasting rates are posted, somewhere down the line
Wizards, warlocks and gremlins travel out to his place
Once I noted a visitor from elsewhere, possibly outer space
Old Todd Toad’s reputation is beyond this planet now
His drinks are unique; many say “a big fat wow!”
Silver coils the hard yet soft tissue
aluminum
Silver mission soft metal form hard
Under tin soft like a paper in a book
Aluminum for covering baking and it cooks
Metallic metal substance
Silver and gray, dull or shiny
Foil packaging
--- aluminum
11/18/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2025
Is a diary entry 'poetry' per se?
What if it touches engaging the soul
peeling back layers of raw hidden emotion?
What if it bares sharing innermost secrets ~
what if it articulates heart to heart?
Sometimes we'll just blurt out our feelings
avoiding the fancy frivolous packaging
spilling the beans it's not always pretty.
We just say it like it is
black on white unfiltered uncensored
words spewing out without grace or flair
just getting the load off our chest.
So... are diary entries 'poetry'?
Yes if you want them to be
Yes when they go beyond the mundane
Yes when they pull at your heartstrings
in any way you choose ~
Lineku: 3 stanzas of 5-7-5 lines ~ every line either 5 or 7 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
In a world where shadows stretch across asphalt streets,
the modern man searches for his soul among dazzling advertisements,
alienated, stripped of ancestral creativity,
transformed from a creator into a silent consumer,
his smile, a mask on a billboard,
bearing the pride of a scentless existence,
in a world where presence becomes absence,
and essence is lost among useless objects,
our souls are just echoes in empty boxes,
and in every perfect smile hides a silence,
a silent cry for meaning, for a rebirth,
but we are trapped in mazes of shiny packaging,
where time is measured in products and not in moments,
and we, prisoners of a prefabricated dream,
lose ourselves in reflections of a distorted reality,
seeking to find, in this deafening silence,
the answer to the question we've forgotten to ask,
in a universe where authenticity is a luxury,
and truth, just a distant dream we chase,
while we dance on the edge of a collective oblivion.
Before modernity
Growth was only for living creatures
With limited features
But these days
Even things can blossom
With the magic of packaging
Trees with start of spring
Objects with getting packed
And I with being with you
We can all flourish
As simple as that
I am your basic product in demand
I am on the market shelf discounted
50% off, marked down as special
I am on the bridge between the shifts
I am a shopping spree gone wrong
Jumping off the ledge into the river cold
Time stands still regardless of the consequence
Prices tumble but never fall
I am now drifting into savings
At landing I become the values earned
Coupons have no equal
Back on dry land I come alive
I come in 12 packs egg-less empty
In cartons at the grocery stores I hide
Behind the sales lost packaging
I am on sale at any price
I am the market value stamped
I am checked out at all cost
I am lost at a cost transcendent
Remove outer sleeve and packaging
Place in large oven proof dish
Ride dolphins perpendicular to the beach
Paint weightlessness with fluorescent paint
Season to taste and add thoughts provided
Bake on medium heat for real before serving
Henceforth, I shall not choose the rose
Its wafting scent upsets my nose
Nor will I write for no one knows
The difference ‘twixt a poem and prose
As roses are the bud of choice
For lovers with a silenced voice
Delivered by a workman’s hand
In packaging now damp and bland
Hence, I’ll choose the dandelion
Sunrise colors signifyin’
The heat of passion’s rising sun
That moonlight's whisper will not shun
For roses are and so shall be
For counting coup on fools like me
One of the great things about being an artist is that even if I can’t change the world I still have an unfettered opportunity to express my opinions. To keep from exploding, I made these pieces instead—Alice Deasley
Art As Activism I
It begins at home or should I say at the grocery store,
anywhere food is sold
Changes in ways to shelve groceries
should again be addressed, it’s still an issue
Packaging goes straight into the sea—the true trash can
Alternatives are store chains that use barrels for sweets, nuts,
dried fruit and edible seeds
More deli section, less packaged meats and cheese
Bakery containers, less packaged muffins
Plastic pollution solutions everywhere
Beach cleanups, volunteer to pick up litter
Our actions impact the ocean
even far away from the coast
land and water are connected
Buy plastic free, figure it out!
Less bagged chips, more glass bottled water and jars
Youth with passion will themselves create new ideas,
for they are the inheritors.
In these days of austerity
It’s getting to be a treat
To go out for a few pints
And have a bite to eat,
So, Please Mr Pub Landlord
Grant me just a little wish
Bring back the vinegar bottle
So I can splash me bit of fish.
Those little plastic sachets
You’ve generously placed there
Supposedly have perforation
But they just refuse tear.
I need that essential liquid
Over me chips and cod
To transpose it from wonderful
To meal fit for a demi god.
I sit there by the mimute
Growing more and more tense
Looking at the pile of sachets
That just won’t dispense
In despair I eat my meal
Before it grows cold
But it’s just not the same
Without that liquid of gold.
I shall add that designer to
That list of those folk that
I’d like to meet in a dark alley
When I’ve got my baseball bat
A pox on the plastics industry
Once thought a packaging solution
Now a source of anger and despair
And the growing oceanic pollution.
I’m just a simple type of being
So many modern things I hate
Just give me fish and taties
Hot, served on a real plate
And I reall dont think that
I’m asking rather a lot
For vinegar in a real bottle
And salt and pepper in a pot.
Thoughtfully wrapped and nicely presented
Sometimes even with ribbons and bows
This can be very pleasing on the eye
However, it’s the gift within that’s important
The packaging is superficial and often temporary
People are like presents
Value the inner gift of people
Value the inner You
You can only spend so many hours in labs, study groups and classrooms - under relentless, fluorescent lighting - before you start feeling life withdrawal.
When I hit that stresshold, I need to rebalance myself.
I could go to the New Haven harbor - I find the ocean endlessly relaxing - or for a quick fix, I can always rely on the warmth of multicolored product packaging.
For the last one, a grocery store will do. I’ll walk the bright, prismatic cereal aisle, and run my finger gently along the gratuitous, rainbowed variety of selections.
It’s a soothing gesture that I repeat several times. A reminder that there are still beautiful, shiny things out there, on demand, in the uncomplicated, non-academic world.
Sometimes you need this thing called
Confidence, but it is hard to grasp
Like the slippery edge of the rice
Cracker packaging Summer ate
Yesterday. So to stand up in this
World and pour out enough courage
To hold a position next to everything
Else.
Then pick flowers and clip them on to
Your front pocket and make a grass hat
For yourself and receive a bouquet of
Tree roots to hold in your left hand.
But first you should stand up.
And then decorate yourself and look
Back at you.
Perched up on the shelf
Watching me as I go by
Knowing that I can't resist
Your chocolate sugar high
Your triangular packaging
Triggers a pavlovian response
An uncontrollable craving
An undeniable want
Tearing off your paper foil
I'm torn with indecision
Knowing that the truth is
You've absolutely no nutrition
Too bad, the point is moot...
I gulp down a hefty chunk
And with a sinking feeling
Know my diet plans have sunk
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