Original Poetry – Dr. Plastic Picker
 

Category: Original Poetry

January 16, 2020

by drplasticpicker

This is Chirp Chirp, the second piece in my trash art series. Honestly, the first few times I posted about Chirp Chirp – I was joking. I had been mistakenly kicked off Instagram and the virtual world of looking at other people’s trash hauls was gone. Through Instagram I was able to jet all over the world and see interesting trash finds from Germany to South America and especially my young friend from Nepal who is almost on his 100th bag. But without Instagram, I began doing more Trash Art and actually my writing became more productive. Instagram is fun but I only ever get a trickle of traffic from Instagram, less than the traffic directed by my comments on Retireby40 which is an early retirement blog. I just read Joe’s blog because I like it and I post sometimes. One Facebook commenter on a environmental group I joined really summed it up, Instagram can be an echoing chamber. You feel like you are influencing people more than you are, because you are preaching to the choir.

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The perilous drive down a snowy mountain. Even Mr. Plastic Picker, from New Jersey, had a hard time navigating the roads.

January 11, 2020

Original Poem by Mr. Plastic Picker

This is Mr. Plastic Picker’s response to seeing some of the destruction that tourism causes on the mountains and the Aspen trees. Also after the perilous drive from Snow Bird to Park City in one of the worst snowstorms he has ever driven through.

To enjoy me

You have to destroy me

I am your Pachamama

Not your plaything

Sand cliffs. Photo credit by drplasticpicker.

January 6, 2020

An Original Poem by drplasticpicker

I walk from the Pier to the Protected Beach

The Protected Beach where the Surfer’s go

And beyond that Protected Beach and the Parking Lot, I travel further

until I reach the soaring cliffs of beauty and life

Sand cliffs that may crumble at any moment

Posted signs warn “Unstable Cliffs, Stay Back.”

But there are Marbled Godwits there, a flock of friends feeding

There is a black shoe sole, alone and abandoned

There is a bag of mammalian waste with an aluminum can wedged inside

There is a jagged rigid piece of white plastic, there is a small rectangle of blue

I bend over to pick up the pieces, unafraid of the cliffs

I am cleaning the cliffs, picking up bits and pieces

The cliffs may crumble. The house above may collapse. Milliions of human dollars may be lost.

But the earth will warm. Our eco-system will collapse, and generations of birds will die – if I don’t pick up the plastic.

The Marbled Godwits will eat the plastic

So I am fearless and I clean the sand

A handsome man, so handsome with a leashed mannerly dog asks, “What are you doing?”

I think of Mr. Plastic Picker, and I smile openly and say, “I am picking up Plastic for my trash art. I love the blues.”

The handsome man says, “You are doing two good things, cleaning the earth and making art?” He smiles.

I think of Mr. Plastic Picker and I smile with openness and love for the earth, my husband and this fellow human being. “It makes me happy. There are Marbled Godwits over there.” I point to the North Shore. “They are endangered shore birds with sharp needle-point black beaks.”

The man smiles kindly and walks with his leashed handsome dog to the North.

An unleashed Pekginese walks by. I think, please don’t chase the Godwits. Those Marbled Godwits are my friends.

I walk within the soaring sand cliffs, the cliffs of beauty and I walk with life.

Chirp Chirp going to work on Friday. Photo credit by drplastipicker.

January 4, 2020

by drplasticpicker

Instagram’s loss is Chirp Chirp’s gain. I have no idea why I have been banned from instagram but I am going with it https://drplasticpicker.com/trashy-art-poor-chirp-chirp-the-joy-of-the-unexpected/. I am taking it as a sign to refocus on the blog and actually again advocate for reducing plastic pollution in the real world. Without my Instagram friends and the virtual Instagram world, drplasticpicker decided to return to the physical dimension. I have returned to Chirp Chirp.

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Poor Chirp Chirp. Photo credit and art credit by drplasticpicker.

January 3, 2020

by drplasticpicker

This is Chirp Chirp’s bad side. She is the second piece in my “Trashy” art series. Our daughter named her. I was going to name her Birdy, but our daughter thought Chirp Chirp was better. It seems an appropriate name. “Trashy – Whale in Blue” is turning out much better. I love the different blue hues of the plastic I find, and that piece is coming together quickly.

Trashy Whale in Blue as of January 2, 2020. Photo credit by drplasticpicker.

Chirpy is not going as well. I really think Chirp Chirp is more beautiful in person. If you see her, you can appreciate the interesting pieces of plastic that make up her body. It’s not quite harmonious yet. I’m trying not to alter the plastic pieces, but letting them really speak to me about where they should go. She is like that junk drawer in your kitchen with all the important bits and pieces you don’t want to throw away but you need. I think in the end she will turn out fine, as long as I layer pieces of plastic like feathers. It’s harder to find “cleaner” looking white pieces of plastic because I don’t want Chirp Chirp to look like a dirty bird. But if you look at her carefully she has such interesting pieces as part of her plastic form.

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PLASTIC

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Yes! Drplasticpicker learned how to create a meme-poem. Photo credit by drplasticpicker.com.

December 7, 2019

An original poem by Charlotte, age 8.

Pollutes the Earth

Littered all over the beach.

Always there.

Strong but dangerous.

Takes up space.

Icky to the core.

Creates trash.

Another poem for the same poetess entitled “HELP” https://drplasticpicker.com/help/

December 3, 2019

An original poem by drplasticpicker after a middle management meeting. Just in good fun to help me digest the topics presented today.

Today I went to a large management meeting

With doctors and nurses and managers I was seating

A VUCA world they were saying

To God we should be praying

Volatility, Uncertainty, Complexity, Ambiguity – they can be defeating

Generic slide on VUCA.

But as I sat there fading in and out of sleep

My attention the imported business paradigms did not keep

I’d rather be outside cleaning

Protecting Snowy Egrets they are preening

Vision, Understanding, Clarity, Adaptability – what the bleep?!

VUCA this, VUCA that, VUCA world, VUCA prime

VUCA past, VUCA present, VUCA future, VUCA crime

Note: This is strictly for entertainment purposes. It was a decent meeting. They ordered roast beef sandwhiches which I avoided, and I refused a plastic water bottle. VUCA that plastic!

HELP

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December 2, 2019

An original poem by Charlotte, age 9

An original drawing by Daniela, age 11

Splash by Daniela, age

The Ocean is dirty, dirty, dirty,

Has too much trash.

Maybe because of us?

Maybe because of boats?

Maybe because of sewage?

The Ocean is dirty, dirty, dirty.

We work hard to clean it up . .

So are we doing enough?

Should we do more?

Is it too late?

The Ocean is dirty, dirty, dirty.

Here is another poem by the same child poetess titled simply “PLASTIC” and a crayon drawing by Bella aged 7 “Tottie” https://drplasticpicker.com/plastic/

I Flew Home

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November 28, 2019

An original poem by drplastipicker

Bird found in the seaweed after a storm November 2019. Photo by drplasticpicker.

I flew home.

I flew home to be with my family

to be surrounded by the warmth of their bodies, the beautiful calls of my kind

I flew home to be with my friends

to move together in the sand and the air, sometimes as a line

I flew home through the storm, confident in my strength and wings

but i did not reach home

the winds were fierce, the storms were strong, and i did not have the endurance

there were little bits of plastic in my gullet that stole my strength

you are home dear human, it is Thanksgiving, and this is your beach

love your children dear human, hug your puppy dear human, and celebrate your feast

but clean the beach dear human, so that the next of my kind

can fly home