Metaphor Pollution Poems | Examples
These Metaphor Pollution poems are examples of Pollution poems about Metaphor. These are the best examples of Pollution Metaphor poems written by international poets.
Ocean in the umbral limbo
sea breeding of Plasticized fish garbage
it's not real hell but it seems
Dark light leaks
polluted colored water
half-dead creek... !
In London dawn.even the fog,protects itself from wintry weather ...
PS suggestef song LONDON TOWN by DONOVAN
https://youtu.be/teAVV37Aa4s
tropical forests,
ten areas burn daily
sans replanted trees ...
The smell of a dead cat
Swelling in the culvert
Is stinking rich!
A toxic dose
It lodges in the nose
You pay the bill!
Should the president come
Let him calm
But take him there!
So after Lunch
You have your chance
Listen with your book!
If he says nothing
That is something
Forgive the cat!
To solve the evil of pollution
just eating less is a solution
stone poop of indian
is real serious question
not doing every day is action
Read in daily newspapers
Oh, mighty vacuum cleaner, duty calls;
like magic, you suck up unsettling grime
in my small world of carpets, floors, and walls.
You gobble up debris in record time
of lint and dust polluting my domain,
to leave behind a sparkling atmosphere
where peace of wholesome living can remain,
ensuring my abode is bright and clear.
Oh, hardy vacuum cleaner, if I could
direct your force upon our total Earth;
suck up its cobwebbed corners, dusty wood
which clouds our vision to perceive its worth.
Draw off the film- watch clarity unfurled,
and make it shiny-bright as my small world.
Sandra M. Haight
~NA~
Premiere Contest: A Lovely Little Daydream
Sponsor: Mystic Rose
Judged: 01/21/2017
The prideful boast of bruises,
ingested by lurid carrion's grin
trim the passionate grit of
words left at the altar.
"You jest" I say.
I am no hero.
I am nothing,
but the burden of
a tremulous wake.
But the curve of your
lips corrupt my resolve,
and sting the ego of
a nauseated subconscious.
I've always hated
the way I break;
the cold shoulder
of my legacy's regret.
But you...
Quietly delve your
elegance into my
crooked beat,
smile at my misgivings,
Call my pollution, art.
-James Kelley 2014, All Rights Reserved.
Unwittingly, through our unsatisfying desire for more,
mankind has given birth to the Colossus.
Able to manifest, and combine the forces of nature,
striking unpredictably, anywhere, anytime across the globe,
not heeding boarders, nor mans defences.
As of now, the Colossus's ability for destructiveness is limited.
Yet still foolishly, blindly, nourishment for the beast is forthcoming,
poisons, pollutants, arrogantly pumped into the atmosphere.
So far as an infant, Colossus has only thrown tantrums.
But to continue, down this road we travel,
fearful we should be, of the day, the tethers break,
and all the matured rage, of the Colossus is unleashed.
© Alexis C Pond.