The Environment

The angler knows the stream, exactly where to cast the line. The fish in turn suspects what offers food disguises danger though it's urged to search the spot. The two engage in grueling fights, dead baits...

  Here Comes the Hybrid Bus Here comes that brand new hybrid bus Round the street so pretty; It's length so long it makes the turn, And bends right round the city. It's certainly looking very...

AQI: Hazardous Outside, the air is filled with smoke and ash So thick the nearby mountains can’t be seen; Bright red and purple colors on the map Warn that the air we breathe’s no longer clean. In...

  Behold the cloud-graced monoliths That stretch against the sky Into the boundless sanctity Where wind swift eagles fly. Primal valleys bloom to life As tumbling waters sing, Resurrected from...

by Charles Eager William Wordsworth was born in Cockermouth, Cumberland, in 1770—the same year as gave us Beethoven, Hegel, and Hölderlin—and died at the age of eighty, rich in the knowledge of his...

A Question of Faith The crowd cheered on their betters’ masquerade, Emotions seethed as memes were hatched and grew; Elijah watched as Ba’al’s prophets prayed. Reporters for the 70’s news were...

(All poetry by Bruce Dale Wise) Crossing the Swamp by Jon MacNaughton by Caud Sewer Bile "If freedom of speech is taken away...we may be led, like sheep to...slaughter." —George Washington The boat...

The pika climbs the snowless slopes in hope of finding cooler climes. A tailless kin to hares, he shelters under stones to cope with rising temps within his furry skin. The ball of fur appears to roll...

 (All poetry by Bruce Dale Wise) Am-air-ica by Eber L. Aucsidew Die Welt proclaimed the biggest drop in CO2 was in America, in the first year of Donald Trump—no spin. Though worldwide emissions...

  You Decide Some know me as Destiny, The weaver of the cloth of Time. Although my looms are never stilled, They say I choose how high you’ll climb, How fast you’ll fall, how great your name; I...

12/03/17 Of all ye gods, that crown Olympus high, Who yet remains that man’s not brought to heel? When aircraft daily pierce great Zeus’s sky, And Neptune’s depths have long since been...

  Budding darkness, in your starkness, void of noise and light, deliver me from what I see ’fore day turns into night. Guide me through the peaceful sea of dreamers far and wide, as welcome shores...

  Nature’s pillars, which have borne Earth’s breath for ages, Are now crumbling into dust... Still, more keep falling, Shattered by our storm of wants, as outer changes Echo those inside us,...

  The Buds of Life On Nightly News I saw a sight obscene: A seahorse in embrace with cotton bud, Soon causing me to ask, ‘What does this mean?’ The answer came most clear, with numbing thud...

The silver masses rising in huge numbers, The ship alone upon the sprawling sea, The snores of men found tossing in their slumbers, And salt-tinged breezes shivering with me, The solitary voice of man to...

  Progress We fill our landfills That we build sky high With electronic gadgets That we must all buy ... All in the name of Progress We cut down the forest And industrialize the farm We poison...

This poem is written in response to proposals to sell ancient public forests to private developers in England. https://saveourwoods.co.uk/   Oh, site where forest now is laid – Why take the suite...

Dying Muse Not everyone will survive The muse has sung her last song The end is about to arrive It has been following us all along The forest is groaning in pain She sheltered her creatures with...

Sleep, lying in dry river beds Sold rapidly, buy the shore banks Brains washed from corporate heads Dried and neatly styled on fuel tanks Rippled, ragged breaths of ashen air Smog saturated sludge and...

The Rocky Mountain Pines Written in Rhymed couplets of Anapestic Tetrameter. In the mountains or plains, with the pine in the air, I’ll awake to the sun with a chill to compare. When I hike up a hill,...

Dancer the arch of her collarbone a bridge, her legs a throne, the clean and simple lines of her body free of confines. she dances, arms akimbo, hair flowing, and I know that she belongs to the...

  The World Is Still Too Much Too much, and much too much, it still goes on: The men and women who covet wealth and bling, And acquisition of each material thing, Yet search for some elusive...

Riven (A Rannaigheacht Ghairid) Once I dreamed Ospreys soared where salmon teemed. Frigid streams and waterfalls Frosted walls where glaciers gleamed. Darkness cowled The moon whenever wolves...

There used to be a limpid lake Home to the finest birds you'd find. We'd watch their glory till daybreak. But now those days are far behind. I used to hear the bullfrogs croak Before the pond was...

  How Eden weeps to see, the ache of every tortured tree. How Eden doth recoil, at bitter cancer of the soil. Man was placed as king of beasts, his palace carved of nature's stone, and every...

Trees, Libraries, and Chinese Communism To wrap a ribbon round a UK tree And tie it into Chinese tyranny, Or flag up five star Chinese hostelry Above a Yorks* Art Deco library, May tighten minds to ask:...

  Departure Like escaping through a siege, growing older       Hampers itself with hopes of return; So if, over your bare shoulder, Upwind palaces start to...

  The Desert We were flying in a desert, an oasis to drink dry. We gorged ourselves on date palms and spat in nature’s eye. We’ve been lying in a desert where the wine of life’s run...

  Witches’ Brew Round and round the seven seas go, In the putrid poisons throw, Double, double toil and trouble, dolphins die and oceans bubble. Extract of mercury, pcb’s, poison waters by...

Unforeseen Good Fortune’s Heirs Are We There’s little of the Plague that we can find to celebrate except for this small gem – when those who died left property behind it often changed their...

  Pacific Trash Vortex I don’t care about chemical sludges, I don’t care about plastic debris, the Pacific trash vortex is so far away, that it just doesn’t matter to me. So, the plastic is...

  A Bear in My Living Room While playing some computer games One day, I heard a noise out in The living room. I frowned, but paused And went to see. To my chagrin A bear was squatting on the...

  The Price (a pantoum in iambic pentameter) The sea and sky, once beautiful and clean, They’ve paid the price for man’s hubris and greed. The jungle canopies were brilliant green as nature...

2016 Primaries This season, Mr. Trump’s a raging wildfire, a storm ignited by reality TV, fodder for anyone who likes good satire. He’s poised to win as far as I can see. The exit polls are making me...

Below is an excerpt of the last ten stanzas of Lord Byron's ‘Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage,’ published originally in the 1810s. It may be read as an ode to the ocean, or perhaps an environmental...