“Planet Earth” by Michael Jackson (poem)
Planet Earth, my home, my placeA capricious anomaly in the sea of spacePlanet Earth are you justFloating by, a cloud of dustA minor globe, about to bustA piece of metal bound to rustA speck of matter in a mindless voidA lonely spacship, a large asteroidCold as a rock without a hueHeld together with a bit of glueSomething tells me this isn’t trueYou are my swweetheart soft and blueDo you care, have you a partIn the deepest emotions of my own heartTender with breezes caressing and wholeAlive with music, haunting my soul.In my veins I’ve felt the mysteryOf corridors of time, books of hisotryLife songs of ages throbbing in my bloodHave danced the rhythm of the tide and floodYour misty clouds, your electric stormWere turbulent tempests in my own formI’ve licked the salt, the bitter, the sweetOf every encounter, of passion, of heatYour riotous color, your fragrance, your tasteHave thrilled my senses beyond all hasteIn your beuaty, I’ve known the howOf timeless bliss, this moment of nowPlanet Earth are you justFloating by, a cloud of dustA minor globe, about to bustA piece of metal bound to rustA speck of matter in a mindless voidA lonely spacship, a large asteroidCold as a rock without a hueHeld together with a bit of glueSomething tells me this isn’t trueYou are my swweetheart gentle and blueDo you care, have you a partIn the deepest emotions of my own heartTender with breezes caressing and wholeAlive with music, haunting my soul.Planet Earth, gentle and blueWith all my heart, I love you.
Poem on Pollution by Qirui Soh
The sea was still,
the water a halcyon piece of glass.
Until the human emerged from it,
and shattered the silence.
The soil a concrete block,
dampened and compact.
Until the human trampled the soil,
and pounded the clay.
The grass stood robust,
its green armor glowing in the sun.
Until the human, when learning to run,
ripped the grass right out of its roots.
The trees were statuesque,
majestic, decorated warriors of old.
Until the human needed shelter,
and hacked the tree from ear to ear.
The wildlife used to thrive,
the jungle a kingdom to behold.
Until the human needed land to grow his food,
and scorched the forest alive.
The marine life was bustling,
the fish free to swim to any corner of the world.
Until the human needed a place to dump his waste,
and smothered the oceans with black poison.
The sky was abundant,
like a shield, an aegis suit of armor in the air.
Until the human needed transport and built the car,
suffocating the clouds until they choked,
constricting the sky until it broke.
The arctic mammals lived in peace,
resting and feeding on the ice.
Until the human made it warm,
the mammals now drown and sink in water.
From the sea came the tidal wave and crushed some of them,
from the soil came the earthquake and demolished some of them,
from the grass came the barren droughts and starved some of them,
from the trees came the carbon dioxide and suffocated some of them,
from the forest came the forest fires and burnt some of them,
from the seas came the flooding and drowned some of them,
from the skies came the thunderstorm and struck some of them,
from the ice came the blizzard and killed froze some of them,
and from the humans came the humans and eradicated all of them.
I’m a big fan of “When I heard the Learned Astronomer” by Walt Whitman.
Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here, And you must treat it as a powerful stranger, Must ask permission to know it and be known. The forest breathes. Listen. It answers, I have made this place around you, If you leave it you may come back again, saying Here. No two trees are the same to Raven. No two branches are the same to Wren. If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you, You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows Where you are. You must let it find you.
A well known poem by Robert Frost that takes place in the woods; but that I take as a metaphor for one’s choices in life and the feeling of standing at the crossroads of different paths (metaphorical or otherwise)
“The Road Not Taken”
by Robert Frost
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