Welcome to Trash Island.
Population Zero.
No life lives here,
Just plastic bags,
Disfigured Barbies,
Melting storybook heroes.
Souls plunge upward,
Toward light and air.
Blocked by leeching death,
And wayward cares.
The stench of rotting goods
Discarded,
Pays homage to what once was.
Since first eyes open,
First impressions burn.
The “more” becomes obsession,
While social status language learned.
This island represents
The slaughter of the land,
The sand, sea and trees,
Of forcing third world children’s hands
Slaving away laboriously.
Blood tipped fingernails fray and toil.
Whiplashed backsides for our spoils.
She sold her soul to buy a reflection,
While tear drops drown the cradle’s heaven.
The ego of humanity.
The over consumption.
The assumption,
Taking over.
What presumption!
Power tip pours guilt,
Raining down on time starved masses,
Fearing the shame from a neighbor,
Yet rewarded for passing lower classes.
Thank the corporation.
Thank the politician.
Thank the propaganda,
For instilling the societal dogma
Of this over-indulgent nation.
Spun their web so tight.
Round the eyes of sight.
Bound from the reality of accumulation,
Our oceans forced starvation.
The death will float and bind,
Revenge of nature we will find.
Peaceful
creatures weigh on our shoulders,
Bits of rotting dolphin carcasses
Stuck between plastic coke can holders.
Garbage coalesces into mountainous boulders.
Where land once connected,
Water rose and covered.
Evolution’s blind creation
Created hate and neglect to destroy her wonder.
This island is bigger than Texas
And grows by the day.
Exit through the gift shop,
And buy a postcard
To glorify your stay.
Written by Abby Martin and Tyler Florence
http://www.greatgarbagepatch.org/
Redwoods
Now when we are cut down and lie still,
sky fallen out of us,
birds forever flown,
we remember when they came among us,
their grain like ours joining earth and sky,
water and sun their life . . .
But they walked the earth and never were at rest,
as if this sun was not enough,
this sky not blue,
this earth not rich or water cold enough –
and, walking, fell,
and when they fell, dark sap red as clay did cover earth and stone,
yet some who fell did rise again.
Truly the Titans of the earth were they,
and we trembled at their passing.
Now when Time is real and we lie among our fathers,
we remember a story
of a time when men and women came to us
in the green-gold light
and stood among us, still, in our green groves
and from their limbs put roots into the ground
to know what beings we were
and feel the ice-cold waters run,
this blue sky’s sun, this earth.
Birds’ nests in their hair they knew us.
We knew them too
before the gold light dimmed,
for through the soil we felt the steady beating of their hearts
where red sap ran, thin as rain.
So lovely was the song,
we did not wish the light to fade.
We did not wish that they should ever leave the earth.
This is exquisite; it gave me chills when I read it. It truly says it all. What a horrific disgrace that our overindulgence as a country and as a world has created this monstrosity; what a disgusting testament to our humanity. Both of you found the perfect words to put it all in perspective. Kudos!