On the back of a chair, a plastic bag
Hangs by one of its carry loops
The other free to move in the breeze
Which enters from the window nearby
Back and forth, fitfully waves the free loop
Calling me, or something near me
Passing on a beckon from the atmosphere
To whom addressed?
What elements are signalling each other
Beyond my understanding, if not notice;
What their arcane subject?
Within my being, something shivers
As the unsecured loop
Waves me on.
I have the strength
I have the will
I have the wisdom
I have the courage
I have the passion
My mind is a fortress,
No fear can creep in
My resolve is a great wall,
It shan't be swayed
Yet my vessel betrays me,
Hands tremble when she sets foot into my line of sight
Lips spew nonsense
Shoulders imitate the coward's posture
My ribs sink inward, puncturing my lungs with every breath
Treasonous feet seem to forget that I'm fully sober
How will I fare as your lover
When the most virtuous intentions are coupled with the worst of deeds
Fireworks are candy.
Limes are harsh custard.
Burnt out.
Jellyfish don’t float, they sail.
Imagine if jellyfish were dead.
Spiraling.
I have nowhere.
Neuroplastic as an ever changing billboard.
Everyone looks before they crash.
If your parts need to impress
Make them out of ABS
Or if they need to be tough and cheap
Make them out of Poly ‘Peep’
If they need to be really strong
Parts should be moulded in Nylon
And if that’s not enough to pass
You might want to add some glass
When they need to be clear not opaque
You could use Polycarbonate
But if its Cola that you see
It could be made from PET
And if your bottle has a sporting theme
Its likely made from Polythene
Now you know them its fantastic
Never specify………Just Plastic
a plastic Jesus
stands beside a shop window...
and he can't be bought
There are moments in life you never forget, and some you definitely want to forget, forever.
Today was one of those I'll never forget days, but dear lord, I want to forget.
There you were eating your pizza, drinking your beer and faking your face, and whatever those were above your fake heart.
I was shocked at the size of everything. The only thing left to be the same was that look in your eyes, a cold stare, genuine evilness.
My eyes met yours and for a moment I was reminded that people really do wear masks and they create themselves with fake everything.
You didn't see me, but for a fleeting moment when you looked my way, I saw you.
My pizza was great, my salad was tasty. I enjoyed my company and didn't waste another moment trying to figure out who you really were, I already knew.
When someone has taken the trouble
to scrape up dog mess with no shovel
into a bag that is plastic,
then park it there as a tactic
means pollution has been redoubled.
On the list of memories;
All kept as files on my head;
Today the drawer opened
And I got reminded of you;
And
…Of course
…I got reminded of that taste
…In my mouth,
…When I tried to taste you.
..I got reminded of
How it turned out,
You were oranges and apricots,
But of course made of plastic;
It forever holds its flavor
One is all you’ll ever need
One can savor it for later
Or share it with a lover
Your brother if you’re onto that
A friend who’s a bestie
Or a stranger who’s in need
I’ve repurposed a pill box
To dispense my favorite flavor of the day
It will never disintegrate
And is guaranteed
Or your money back
If this gum just happened
To fall into the ocean
It would surely float
Be gobbled up by some random fish
Or get caught up
In the net of a fishing boat
And the Captain will surely gloat,
“Yum, cherry apple red.”
But like most trash
Gum ends up in the dump
Where it remains forever flavorful
For the ants and bums
Who rummage for just one
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They rise on thermals we cannot feel,
these white-winged wrappers of the air~
shuddering their thin, translucent skin
against the fist of every March wind.
No nest to claim them, no song to sing,
just the hollow rattle of their flight,
the way they cling to chain-link bones
like ghosts who forgot how to fall.
Sometimes, in the slant of dying light,
they almost fool you~
drifting lazy as herons,
dipping like terns over parking lot waves.
But watch one snag on barbed wire,
watch it thrash and twist,
and you'll know:
this is a bird that cannot die,
only tear itself smaller and smaller
until even the wind says goodbye.
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
large plastic pop beads
popular in the sixties
worn by us kids
What I Love – The Midnight Garden
Beneath the silver hush of moonlit air
The garden breathes with jasmine’s secret bloom,
Soft petals tremble, fragrances laid bare,
They weave enchantments in the quiet gloom.
The roses bow, their crimson hearts awake,
While lilies glisten on the mirrored lake.
The stars lean closer, whispering to the earth,
In darkness, blossoms find their truest worth.
What I Hate – The Plastic Tide
Upon the shore, the ocean beats her song,
Yet plastic shards invade her foaming breath,
They choke the waves that carried myths so long,
And stain her womb with fragments born of death.
The dolphins weave through broken glass in pain,
The seabirds starve where poisoned shells remain.
I rage against the greed that drowns the seas,
The world’s own hands unmake her harmonies.
The air of cemetery is rolled up
Rolled up in a bolus of silence
In the dust between the graves
It blows into the upturned graves
And hangs in the silver of the clouds
Marching silently across the sky.
Plastic flowers for the dead bend
Stuck in their earth they say nothing
There is no perfume in plastic nor voices
Nor songs to sing in forgetfulness
Yet down in the town of the living
The hum of printing presses is heard
Hammering out more Death notices
I feel so vitalized, stylized, unanalyzed.
Eclectic, electric, not hectic!
My cells are atomized, crystalized, uncompromised.
Eccentric, ecstatic, not skeptic!
My mind's been mesmerized, civilized, unprivatized.
Fantastic, elastic, not plastic!
Cuz I have level eyes, country sized, unrealized.
Authentic, romantic, not manic!
...Or, maybe I'm just a little bit bombastic?
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