Trashed Poems - Poems about Trashed

Angelic Standards Trashed

     Angel Reese plays basketball for the Chicago Sky
          She talks trash like an overwrought magpie

     The media compares her to the great Caitlin Clark
          ~ though almost all

Trashed and Burned

The fire’s been out for the longest time,
there’s nothing left but ashes

A pathway scorched, escape route torched
—where light now sorely passes

(The New Room: March, 2021)

America---Trashed

Speak thee softly, of my countrymen.
Who gave their lives, their blood.
To launch this very great and noble land.
Neither you nor I, could do that task!
America is under siege from within.

Ah, indeed, most vociferously from
without.
I do not understand the poison quills,
that wish us dead!
Envy, lame propaganda never stops!
In endless hatred, one TV channel romps.
Whipped to a

Trashed

I remember in my youth
Give a hoot, don't pollute 
And the Indian gentleman 
Who cried a tear over his trashed land

As I view the world today
And the way we all behave
Tossing trash from out our cars
Where in the world do we think we are

When all is done and all is said
Who's going to clean up

Trashed Away

Lies in a landfill memories represented
                                With withered flowers that never reached
            

Shattered, Scattered, Trashed

Hello again Conscious, my dear friend
hello again dear mirror, my wake up call
hello again myself, it's too early for this but it needs to be said
No one will understand my turmoil, decisions, incentives
my numbing drive for rebellion against Hollywood
except for myself and the music flooding my ears
my oblivious mentors
I just need someone to hear me...someone

Unwanted-Trashed 4 Contest

Thrown out like yesterday's debris,
Broken backwards and upside down,
You left me out to watch me suffer,
No longer wanting me around.

Yesterday's plans turned to today's remorse,
And old photo's remind me so clear,
I'll never forgive you for your choice,
To no longer want me near.

Forsaken and forgotten, new until old,
Please invite me back for dinner,
Uphold my regret and

My Golden Eagle-Trashed Contest

Way up there in the atmosphere, 
Is where my Golden Eagle lost his fear.

It is where I met my new friend...

I've always dreamed about flying so free with the eagles.
Especially my invariant Golden Eagle.
He soar's and attempts and flies to reach to the heaven's, 
But down here in the magnificent sky, is where he calls

Who Is Your Neighbour For Trashed 2 Contest

Who is my neighbour after all?
The one who shares the boundary wall,

who lets his cat crap on my grass
and parks so badly I can’t pass.

Whose curtains twitch from morn till night
in making sure that we’re all right.

Puts out my bins when I’m away,
collects my parcels every day.

Good times or bad, through straights and bends; 
my

A Dawn - Come Too Late - For Trashed No 2

A Dawn – Come Too Late



For we sometimes catch death – unaware
in our haste to live life on the edge
shout the dead words – who will care
if I fail to honor life’s pledge
bypass death on my way to the ledge.

For they feel not what I feel
entrusting my fate to the wind
touching a moment surreal
reaching to

'1 To 47' For Trashed 2 Contest

I wanted to write something in which each successive line had one more letter than the one before; it basically wrote itself :


I
do
not
wish
to see
the sky
before a
bird goes
soaring by
that I may be
at once alive
observing him
soar, turn & dive
no cares, the King
of his high domain
the earth beneath’s
his bejewelled gain
free from constraint
his barnstorming rush
pulls his feathers taut
with a

You Trashed My Love

YOU TRASHED MY LOVE
You taught my heart to hate
On missing out on our first date
And when I asked,
Innocently as a gent’ man does,
Walked out on me through that gate.
You claimed I wasn’t man enough
As if I was man and woman half.
Cash and love I had
And tenderness, gave through my hands
Always there as a helping hand
In

Trashed

The ashes have cleared and the rain is washing memories of you

I see it now as I gaze across those thoughts

I was pierced with the arrows and I hid the blood

I wanted your help but I couldn't find words

As I glide through the words I found after searching

I am back like a tattoo which has

Love Trashed In a Country Village

Pelted forth, hanging strings of moorland curtains,
  Endless rains, tart and stinging nettles,
Drive the icy pitons, needles of frozen spite,
  Through the scalp into the mind where it unsettles.

God, I hate this land, this patch of grub and blight,
  And lachrymose faces, grimaced at their bitter sups
From cloudy glasses, smeared with last

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