A Plastic Paradise
At the far edges of the world, Hidden deep amongst the Raging seas and rising waves Laze a series of secret atolls and coral coves;
"this is sixth form poetry, not Keats or Yeats"
At the far edges of the world, Hidden deep amongst the Raging seas and rising waves Laze a series of secret atolls and coral coves;
The blushing sun conceals A dirty secret. So in our quest for BEAUTY We shield our glowing frames From its spiteful rays; Basting our bodies
Fade In: People wearing masks Ride their bicycles through A skyline of exhaust fumes and Dirty, blackened smoke. Their lungs irritated By the invisible particles
Beneath the pristine peaks and snow-capped mounds, Lie records of our past and future selves. A precious commodity lying dormant, Safe from prying eyes
Within the hidden pores of ancient rock, Clandestine remnants of our past lie trapped And whisper of the future they unlock. As these seductive
Within each breathe of air we need to live, Are carried tiny particles of dust; These specks pass through our bodies’ finest sieve, And cause
Beneath the rock lies liquid gold, With pressures set and bills to fold; But prospectors should be aware, Removal must be done with care.
When gliding through our old and rusty skies, You filtered out the wheezing, blackened air; A century of progress built on lies, Now captured in
The oceans are awash with our debris, As plastics from our lives flow down the drain And travel down hewn channels to the sea, Where
This week I am helping colleagues from The Cooper Group at the University of Liverpool discuss the fascinating world of molecular cages, as part of