Sustainability Now: A 3 Poem Collection

Why I Wrote This Poetry Series

For this poetry series, I wanted to mainly focus on 3 perspectives of what is going to happen if we continue down an unsustainable route. I also wanted to touch on some imagery and thoughts that I think work cohesively together in order to shed light on how a lack of sustainability can affect various elements of our lives. Ultimately, displaying how sustainable development is necessary for our environment and our future lives/future generations.

 Industrial

A moment passes 

Time grips on her neck,

Forcing her steady 

within the green fog and 

The smell of burning rubber. 

Choking on the lack of flora and clean water.

There is no more room for buildings as high as stars,

Oil rigs and

pumping gas into cars. 

Seconds and chances always given 

to the corporations of

burning forests 

and soiling oceans. 

The passing of time ticks by,

suffocating her through polluted air

on a mission to create a doomed new childhood

For flowerless children 

Who will bloom 

Into the smog and sight of our industrial world.

Naturalism: 

 In a healthy climate 

trees change from 

green to yellow

 There is a tranquilizing breeze

brushing over her shoulders 

and through her hair 

She can breathe 

No despair.

There is love within her for 

naturalistic beauty, 

life left untouched by man

empty fields and tall grass,

clear blue water,

and land without ash.

The sky is left brighter, 

a sparkling azure. 

The alluring backdrop for deep forests of green

a metamorphosis of toned colour 

cool to warm 

sage to amber

Illuminating the inherent natural beauty 

of a picturesque life.

Familial:

Mother earth sacrifices herself 

Like a woman bearing her 

First child.

She changes seasons from winter 

To spring 

For daisies to bloom 

And mothers to sing 

lullabies 

to the unborn generation 

of our overdue cleanup and 

neglected promises.

Smog-filled lungs

And unbearable temperatures 

come from The Mother’s 

Sickness

An illness to

accompany the treetops 

That are no longer luscious,

No longer rustle 

The thought of eventual colorless fields 

A seemingly permanent death 

No hope for the rebirth 

come spring 

Without vibrant nature 

We know its gone too far 

For there are now mothers that 

Cannot bear the pain 

of birthing flowerless flower children 

and holding onto seasons that no longer change.

Author

Emily Campbell