Recycling Poems - Poems about Recycling

As dawn sets in, A new day begins, Born into darkness, Free of sin. Freedom within, Hidden by a lie, Your not suppose to try, To step outside the line. Divine by design, We rise and shine, Using time to define, The day you resign. As moments intertwine, You combine experience, Souls get ready to advance, Given another chance. Choosing an entrance, The perfect instance, A new existence begins, Riding the cycle again. Rising each...

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Wonderful autumn colours Enhance the branches, Shrubs and bushes, Hedges, trees. The leaves have done Their summer work Of cleansing air And feeding vegetation. As daylight shortens Leaves downwards sail Recycling Into needy soil. A glorious process God’s design Without which All of poor mankind Would lifeless sink And see no more His glory In autumn. ...

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There is so much about our universe I don’t know So much I don’t know if I’m even capable of knowing One could even debate that the amount of knowledge I lack Is infinite Feeling something weighing On my consciousness I read about stars How they begin And how they end Did you know that the bigger the star,...

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all the bins were out skies had turned to charcoal grey as I grabbed my coat walking in the rain my mind on fiscardo bay where its warm and dry couldn't help dreaming of hot grecian sun in may on recycling day ...

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This poem is penned to my sartorial self, about wardrobe clothes on the rail or the shelf, replica football shirts, too tight, too small, threadbare cord trousers, I don’t wear at all, now for recycling with all the rest, while saving my smart shoes and suit just for best, too many old clothes that I’ll never wear, though some could be fixed...

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Seasons come and go -- How ends the fillings? Recycled we know: rain back to the sky, leaves to soil, sandy runoff, particle debris, for oysters to make pearly luxuries -- snow on mountains for short spell may stay or a billion days may lay – a store of time in the icy clime of glaciers, and the earth changes rotation; sun, its incidence~ cooling and warming...

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The old barn condemned; fresh wood for creative juices; carved and whittled into the most refined picture frames, you’ve ever ever imagined to don a fine portrait... condemned to a new life. ...

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Where will your children pay you a visit? My sister asked. She is creeped out because I will have no headstone. No one lives in the cemetery I tell her. She nods “I know, but….” At this point I know that she kind of thinks that people do. This is where I will be when my poems and my...

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In the suburbs, once a week, Recycling bins go out And wait there, curbside, for the trucks To pass by on their route. A glance inside can give a hint About the different things The neighbors choose to purchase And the refuse that it brings. The water bottles, magazines, The papers, boxes, cans, Perhaps the same as yours or ones Of which you aren’t fans. The...

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Ready to see the world with cerulean eyes? Every piece and every shade of blue can make a change together; You create a royal design with each of us cooperating and coloring collectively; Learning from the past to save the future indigo strokes push us forward; Now we have a new set of primary values, going green for a clean turquoise...

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Regardless of what some folks are saying The weather is changing, climate’s askew Major storms threaten atypical places, Is there nothing at all we can do? Let’s begin by developing a new respect For this planet all of us call our home, Consider cutting back on fossil fuels Using fewer plastics, learning to defoam. We can resolve to reduce pollution Be more careful with...

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Icons are funny things, she thought. Heaven feels like a warm light circle when we are thriving and more like a cold dark triangle of weaponed tipping points against me and mine competitively not communicating when we are barely surviving above the mortally terrifying bottom of God's most worthless non-elite. Ancient right-brained heaven a circle of prominent light shining down on a mountainous YangEarth of triangulating Power to discern Win/Win co-empathic...

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we are creatures of... a time lapse that digest only in fractions... about 1/14rh of each second while 13/14ths escape us... with respect cause and effects we love the curiosity of cats but... lay claim to some inner self image echoes of creations mythological analogies... from surviving untold 'centuries of millennias' of change at least as intelligently as cats because... human kind survives by asking the...

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Installed in cargo pockets, A vivid-glass, a little green bag, A pod, silverplatted case, Which Guca-hides, Pallmalls, and a bic. You're barfoot in tombstones. You're father, son vulture slumped, You befor etched letters on rock. "Him", a glutton of Karma, Rein ended, your fourteenth year, Now, belly-heavy, smoking his brand. On a Drive-by, visit home. You're showing Gene shooter, You're an arsenic lane of skin, You tremble-digits, in...

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over and over they tumble, colorful specters playing the dying leaves of autumn have one last chase, before passing. they will sleep in painted canvas ground, recycling themselves by spring. ...

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