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Write a poem or short story from the perspective of a piece of garbage.
Our modern world is overflowing with unwanted, superfluous things: single-use plastics, discarded toys, outdated electronics, old books, broken furniture etc... This refuse fills our streets, chokes our waterways and wreaks havoc in our environment, yet the culture we live in pushes us to always want new, shiny things often at the expense of the old. Write a short story or poem from the viewpoint of one of these pieces of trash. What was its life before being dumped? How does it feel now that it has been abandoned? Does it have any hope for the future? Please tag me in the body of your work or in the comments! The entry with the most votes wins!
Ended June 21, 2019 • 15 Entries • Created by RebeccaBrighton
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Challenge
Write a poem or short story from the perspective of a piece of garbage.
Our modern world is overflowing with unwanted, superfluous things: single-use plastics, discarded toys, outdated electronics, old books, broken furniture etc... This refuse fills our streets, chokes our waterways and wreaks havoc in our environment, yet the culture we live in pushes us to always want new, shiny things often at the expense of the old. Write a short story or poem from the viewpoint of one of these pieces of trash. What was its life before being dumped? How does it feel now that it has been abandoned? Does it have any hope for the future? Please tag me in the body of your work or in the comments! The entry with the most votes wins!
Profile avatar image for PaigeMC
PaigeMC

The Rag Doll

Before I was a doll, I was several dozen rags,

before I was the rags, I was made of hand-me-downs,

I was shirts that were too small, and skirts that had a stain,

pants that had a tear, overalls covered in paint.

Before I was these things, I was bought and sold in stores,

displayed in shiny packages and hung to be admired,

before this, I was fabric, pristine and pressed and new,

and before all this a bushy ball of cotton in a field,

a plant grown from the dirt that I now sit upon and rot,

as a rag doll with one eye, a crooked smile and dirty hair.

I was loved and I was useful in all of my forms but now,

all that I can do is hope I will return into the dust

that gave birth to me, so that I can begin my life anew.

Challenge
Write a poem or short story from the perspective of a piece of garbage.
Our modern world is overflowing with unwanted, superfluous things: single-use plastics, discarded toys, outdated electronics, old books, broken furniture etc... This refuse fills our streets, chokes our waterways and wreaks havoc in our environment, yet the culture we live in pushes us to always want new, shiny things often at the expense of the old. Write a short story or poem from the viewpoint of one of these pieces of trash. What was its life before being dumped? How does it feel now that it has been abandoned? Does it have any hope for the future? Please tag me in the body of your work or in the comments! The entry with the most votes wins!
Profile avatar image for Mazzmyrrheyes
Mazzmyrrheyes

All That (G)litters is Gold

I rust in wait; one second chance

My hope: to be reused

Surrounded by the stench

Of sullied remnants and refuse

I bide my time; a tragedy

In weather’s elements

Rain decays my destiny

Garbage (g)litters my garments

Look beneath the surface

I’m a treasure hunter’s dream!

Stitch me up, chalk paint, and wax

So shabby chic, I’ll gleam

Challenge
Write a poem or short story from the perspective of a piece of garbage.
Our modern world is overflowing with unwanted, superfluous things: single-use plastics, discarded toys, outdated electronics, old books, broken furniture etc... This refuse fills our streets, chokes our waterways and wreaks havoc in our environment, yet the culture we live in pushes us to always want new, shiny things often at the expense of the old. Write a short story or poem from the viewpoint of one of these pieces of trash. What was its life before being dumped? How does it feel now that it has been abandoned? Does it have any hope for the future? Please tag me in the body of your work or in the comments! The entry with the most votes wins!
Profile avatar image for Huckleberry_Hoo
Huckleberry_Hoo

Opportunity Lost

She sleeps, her eyes twitching with nervous energy, a dormant energy surging below a skim of dust, her cape heavy with the desert’s dust. A breeze could wake her, or the slap of a rat-tailed rag, anything to knock that dust loose, and so warm her bones. Her heart-beat slows beneath the distant sun, her Spirit already dead in the dark of the moon, her mind one-hundred-million miles away and tangled up in blue, the wealth and intelligence of an alien nation-state left to litter this pristinely pink world.

It is a perfect desert, red and swept. It is lifeless, hopeless, barren, and stepped. The sun drowns down, warming her thin skin, reflecting tin skin, she a tiny bright spot scratching it’s tedious surface, a tiny scrap of metal rescued from the rubble of 9-11 to be tossed away, thrown into space, to be blasted, beaten... to be etched into the sands of this infertile martianscape.

She waits amid sand and storm, alone. Alone, but standing tall yet, head high, antenaes bristling, signals received, stored, but unrequitted in her weary despair. She has done what was asked, she has completed her tasks, she has climbed the Cape of Tribulation and shouted his name, but still he will not come. He will never come. She is left here alone to remember his touch, her footprints filling with dust behind her.

“My batteries are low,” Opportunity whispers, “and it is getting dark.”

Challenge
Write a poem or short story from the perspective of a piece of garbage.
Our modern world is overflowing with unwanted, superfluous things: single-use plastics, discarded toys, outdated electronics, old books, broken furniture etc... This refuse fills our streets, chokes our waterways and wreaks havoc in our environment, yet the culture we live in pushes us to always want new, shiny things often at the expense of the old. Write a short story or poem from the viewpoint of one of these pieces of trash. What was its life before being dumped? How does it feel now that it has been abandoned? Does it have any hope for the future? Please tag me in the body of your work or in the comments! The entry with the most votes wins!
Profile avatar image for Ghost_Herald
Ghost_Herald

Human

Toss me out,

Throw me away,

Don’t you dare care—

I’m garbage.

Flatten me

Under your shoe,

Crush my soul—

I’m garbage.

Hate that I’m there,

Hate that I dare

Dirty your world—

I’m garbage.

Wish you wouldn’t,

Wish you couldn’t

Acknowledge my existence—

I’m garbage.

Toss me out,

Throw me away,

Don’t you dare care,

Though I’ll always care—

I’m human.

Challenge
Write a poem or short story from the perspective of a piece of garbage.
Our modern world is overflowing with unwanted, superfluous things: single-use plastics, discarded toys, outdated electronics, old books, broken furniture etc... This refuse fills our streets, chokes our waterways and wreaks havoc in our environment, yet the culture we live in pushes us to always want new, shiny things often at the expense of the old. Write a short story or poem from the viewpoint of one of these pieces of trash. What was its life before being dumped? How does it feel now that it has been abandoned? Does it have any hope for the future? Please tag me in the body of your work or in the comments! The entry with the most votes wins!
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Poems
Chapter 4 of 29
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xJenVanx

“Paper Plate”

I loved to go on picnics,

the beach or to the park.

I had so much fun with you,

cooking s’mores in the dark.

I was there for all the fun times,

when family came around.

More often than not though,

you’d leave me lying on the ground.

Late at night when it was cold,

I’d feel a tiny prick.

I’d look up and in my horror,

a man holding a stick.

He’d pick me up against my will,

then place me in a bag.

The smell was just so awful,

it made me want to gag.

I could feel the movement,

as the man made his round.

Afterwards I felt myself being flung,

on top of a large mound.

I could hear a ‘whooshing’ sound,

something was burning.

That was when I knew with acceptance,

that I wouldn’t be returning...

#poem, #poetry, #paperplate, #xjenvanx, #challenge, #garbage

Challenge
Write a poem or short story from the perspective of a piece of garbage.
Our modern world is overflowing with unwanted, superfluous things: single-use plastics, discarded toys, outdated electronics, old books, broken furniture etc... This refuse fills our streets, chokes our waterways and wreaks havoc in our environment, yet the culture we live in pushes us to always want new, shiny things often at the expense of the old. Write a short story or poem from the viewpoint of one of these pieces of trash. What was its life before being dumped? How does it feel now that it has been abandoned? Does it have any hope for the future? Please tag me in the body of your work or in the comments! The entry with the most votes wins!
abergen

Piece of trash

Discarded

Time and time again

Sorted in recycling centers

Burned in incenerators

Unwanted and alone

Challenge
Write a poem or short story from the perspective of a piece of garbage.
Our modern world is overflowing with unwanted, superfluous things: single-use plastics, discarded toys, outdated electronics, old books, broken furniture etc... This refuse fills our streets, chokes our waterways and wreaks havoc in our environment, yet the culture we live in pushes us to always want new, shiny things often at the expense of the old. Write a short story or poem from the viewpoint of one of these pieces of trash. What was its life before being dumped? How does it feel now that it has been abandoned? Does it have any hope for the future? Please tag me in the body of your work or in the comments! The entry with the most votes wins!
Profile avatar image for spike1
spike1

It was good at the start. I was content. Happy. All I did was drift around wherever life took me.

I was full of vitality, full of life.

It didn’t last long.

Before I knew it, I’d lost that energy. I no longer drifted in the light. I sank into darkness and before long, as more of my kind sank too, it became not just unremitting darkness but agony. Pressure, burning heat. But I didn’t burn.

I knew I was changing. I could feel myself breaking apart, forming part of something bigger. Much bigger and always that darkness. Always the pressure, the heat and the pain.

I’ve got no idea how long it lasted before something changed. It felt llke an eternity before something odd poked me and I felt movement. A release of pressure and I moved, but still, darkness.

I’ve got no idea where I moved to. I’ve still got no idea how long it was before something else happened but when it did… If I thought the agony of my imprisonment had been bad, it was nothing compared to this.

More incredibly pressures. More even higher, more agonising temperatures. It was so bad I could feel myself cracking, breaking apart, bits of me drifted away.

That torture ended pretty quickly and again, movement, again, more pain as other things were done to me but finally…

Light. I was in the light! It wasn’t daylight but it wasn’t darkness either.

Just when I thought it was over, more heat, I felt myself soften, liquify and then, again, more pressure, but this time, it forced me into a new uncomfortable form.

The heat ended briefly and something big was forced into me and another slash of heat fused me to myself. I contained something. I’ve no idea what but it felt… Squishy.

This time, I was moved somewhere cold. It was a change from heat, but it still wasn’t pleasant. Then, somewhere else, equally cold, I don’t know what this place was but there seemed to be a lot of things similar to me.

Something picked me up and put me into something dark again. Then, more movement, another cold place and finally, let out into the light.

But it wasn’t over. Something sharp slashed me open, removed my innards and put me into yet another dark place, but at least this time, it wasn’t cold or hot.

I waited a while, but when you compare it with my time of imprisonment, it was less than a blink of an eye… Wait, what? Where did that come from? What’s an eye? What’s a blink for that matter?

Either way, more movement and then, more agony. I was dismembered, pla ed in yet another hot place, melted together with other parts of other things. Then I knew. These things… These humans… They were doing it to me.

I was picking things up from the others that became a part of me. Things they’d learned as they went through this process again and again. An endless, agonising cycle of dismemberment, reforming and being chopped into little bits. Recycling came to me.

Finally, one time, the container I was dumped in was flimsier than I was used to. Something ripped it. A high wind picked me up and tossed me about. Rain swept me away, flood waters carried me and now?

Now, I drift in the ocean, just like the beginning. But it’s not like the beginning. I’m not happy. I’m not content and the sun that used to provide comfort and nourishment… Even that hurts me now.

But I’m not going to let it beat me! I’m not going to be destroyed! I’m going to get them back for what they did to me. Those humans. The world itself. I’ll get my own back for all the torture I’ve endured..

I’ll have my reveng… Hang on… What’s that swimming towards me…

Is that a dolphin? Here dolphydolphin… Over here. Swallow me!

Swallow me and choke! Die you bastard!

Challenge
Write a poem or short story from the perspective of a piece of garbage.
Our modern world is overflowing with unwanted, superfluous things: single-use plastics, discarded toys, outdated electronics, old books, broken furniture etc... This refuse fills our streets, chokes our waterways and wreaks havoc in our environment, yet the culture we live in pushes us to always want new, shiny things often at the expense of the old. Write a short story or poem from the viewpoint of one of these pieces of trash. What was its life before being dumped? How does it feel now that it has been abandoned? Does it have any hope for the future? Please tag me in the body of your work or in the comments! The entry with the most votes wins!
Profile avatar image for nijahwrites
nijahwrites

Unwanted

This morning I was her major support

we sat together

we took pictures together

I even let that little mutt up here too

you know I suffered a lot of abuse from that

asshole figuratively and literally!

Now I’m in the back of someones U-haul

she got rid of me like I was a piece of trash!

I was hauled out by two dudes and a

the new lady who looks like

she will find a permanent home in a

the morgue in two weeks

she’d talk about the neighbor for doing it

all those sleepless nights we had together

Tossing and turning Who was there me!

not to mention all the genitals I was faced with

but I never judged you

you know I kept it cool

I paid your way to school most times

I hid your stash for you too

hell I even fed you and that no good

the boyfriend that convinced you

you didn’t need me!

Yea see how long he sticks around

oh yea he’s cheating on you too!

Bet you wish you kept me now cause

that dick won’t comfort you

the way I did!

Challenge
Write a poem or short story from the perspective of a piece of garbage.
Our modern world is overflowing with unwanted, superfluous things: single-use plastics, discarded toys, outdated electronics, old books, broken furniture etc... This refuse fills our streets, chokes our waterways and wreaks havoc in our environment, yet the culture we live in pushes us to always want new, shiny things often at the expense of the old. Write a short story or poem from the viewpoint of one of these pieces of trash. What was its life before being dumped? How does it feel now that it has been abandoned? Does it have any hope for the future? Please tag me in the body of your work or in the comments! The entry with the most votes wins!
Profile avatar image for lilly_nash
lilly_nash

When Will It End?

I feel all warm and tingly inside. Joy flushes into every single piece of me. This is it, this is what I was made to do. I think proudly to myself. Oh how the purpose of my life has been completed. How I can just sit here and enjoy the warmth filled inside of me.

Abruptly I feel flesh and bone start to engulf around me. I start to get crushed down and parts of me blow away into the depths of the restaurant. I soon feel all of my happiness drain out of me. I try to scream but my face is pinned down and I can’t even mutter one word. I start to think about all the legends of the so called ‘humans’ that my family has been telling me for my entire life. I never thought they would be true, so I spent my time joking about humans with my peers. But now with these hands clutching my body, I realize my mistake of not believing the rumors before.

So now I sit on a leather ‘seat’ in a what I think is a ‘car’ with despair showering me from above. I miss my family, I miss my friends, I miss my closet, I miss my shelf. Lost in the jumble of my thoughts, I don't realize that I’m being moving yet again and before I know it I’m placed on a wooden table. The smell of cigars and aftershave attack my nose. I look around. There has to be a way out of here, there always is. I startle at the sound of footsteps and see a large man walking straight towards me. I start to shudder with fear when I glimpse into his soul wrenching eyes.

Suddenly my face is torn apart. I howl in agony as the man starts to reach into my body and pull out my insides. I watch in horror as he stuffs my intestines into his mouth.

“Damn, this burger really is good.” the human says with his mouth full.

After that I black out. All I remember is being thrown into a ‘trash can’ which stunk of rotten food. My thoughts are lost in complete darkness and I am limp and tired.

From now on I don't feel a thing. Any hope of going home is lost in my dead body. So I sit and wait, and sit and wait for my time as a piece of garbage to end. And if that means floating in the vast ocean blue, so be it, because eventually I will die.

Challenge
Write a poem or short story from the perspective of a piece of garbage.
Our modern world is overflowing with unwanted, superfluous things: single-use plastics, discarded toys, outdated electronics, old books, broken furniture etc... This refuse fills our streets, chokes our waterways and wreaks havoc in our environment, yet the culture we live in pushes us to always want new, shiny things often at the expense of the old. Write a short story or poem from the viewpoint of one of these pieces of trash. What was its life before being dumped? How does it feel now that it has been abandoned? Does it have any hope for the future? Please tag me in the body of your work or in the comments! The entry with the most votes wins!
Profile avatar image for TorieSenseny
TorieSenseny

A lending ear is all i ask

So much promise. So much purpose. A room full of smart individuals and hours of design work went into my making. Then sent off to an assembly line alongside my brothers and sister. I was filled with nourishment. Maybe not the healthiest, but happy nourishment nonetheless. All of this would qualify as great promise and purpose, would it not?

For now I am no so sure. Squashed, trampled on, and toss aside like I’m nothing important. I wasn’t even tossed away properly either. I skirt the sidewalk with the help of my new friend, wind. Shouting that I can be recycled and given a new purpose goes unheard. No one deems me worthy to listen to.

From what I’ve heard from my cousins, we will be imprisoned on top of one another. Forgotten and a burden to the earth we blanket. Oh why isn’t anyone listening to me? The optimism I once held is growing thin. I was made by people like you. You’ve consumed my secrets, so why would I lie to you?

#trashstory #shortstory #fiction #toriesenseny

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