Gone Peopling: An Environmental Poem

The poem, Gone Peopling, is a twist on going fishing. Instead of the people going to fish, the fish have gone peopling. The first characters are Homer J. Fish and his son Tommy. Homer is in a big hurry, breaking the speed limit and failing to conserve fuel. He and his son litter the land  and don’t practice ecologically friendly fishing. Then one fine “peopling day” circumstances bring Homer and Tommy together with the second characters.  A neighbor, Solomon D. Salmon and his son Ray, end up peopling at Homer’s favorite peopling spot. Homer and Tommy learn a thing or two about environmental issues from Solomon and Ray.


Homer J. Fish jumped out of bed.

“What a great day for peopling!” he said.

Down the hall ran Homer Jay

To  knock on Tommy’s door.

“Wake up Tommy!

Fins on the floor!

You get the peopling poles

I’ll get the bait.

Let’s hurry! Let’s go!

The tide won’t wait.”

Tommy grabbed the poles

While Dad got bait.

Pizza,pickles,cold lunch meat

Yucky stuff only people would eat.

“Oh! And don’t forget

To grab a big net,”

Said Homer Jay

On this fine peopling day.

They ran out the door

And hooked up the boat.

They left so fast

All Mom got was a note.

Down the stream and across the way

Solomon D. Salmon and his son Ray

Had the same idea

Of what to do on that day.

“Let’s make a plan,” said Solomon D.

And fish the right way.

We’ll be sure to get

Our best people hooks.

We don’t want to catch

A whole bunch of crooks.”

Ray and Solomon kissed Mom good-bye

And drove slowly down the stream.

Carefully packed, proper gear in tact

They made  a really great team.

Around the curve at seventy-eight

Still trying not to be late

Homer J. Fish and Tommy

Sped right past Solomon and Ray.

Rudely beeping the horn

Yelling “out of our way!”

And flying through the water came

Empty worm wrappers and plankton cans

Tossed carelessly out the window

And thrown upon the land.

“I really don’t know why

That fish has to fly,”

Said Solomon D. Salmon to his son Ray.

“It’s really not cool.

He needs to slow down

And stop being a fool.”

Then out of the blue, siren blasting

The Jet Stream Patrol whizzed by.

A shark cop motioned for Homer to stop

And poor Tommy started to cry.

Over a hill and around the bend

Solomon and Ray came to water’s end.

But across the land they could see

People that didn’t look well.

“Dear me,” said Solomon

“It’s not hard to tell.”

“What happened here?” asked his son Ray.

“A fish factory at the bottom of the bay

Has leaked pluto to the top of the sea.

It’s affected the people, I’m sad to say.”

Solomon and Ray drove to find fresher land

And soon found a spot of beautiful sand.

They got out their poles

And good people hooks

And hoped to catch people

With good healthy looks.

Just then Homer J. and Tommy

Arriving much later than planned

Put in their boat to people

Upon their favorite spot of land.

“Hello ,and just who are you?

Are you going to be peopling here too?”

Solomon D. began to explain.

“We tried to people up further ahead

But if they don’t fix that fish factory

Those poor people might soon be dead!”

“I didn’t know that,” Homer said.

“I come here a lot.

I always go peopling

In my favorite spot.”

“That’s not very good,” said Solomon D.

“You might deplete this spot, you see.”

But before Homer could answer back

He hauled in a small

Freckled face red-haired boy

Who was not very tall.

“Put him back!” Solomon said

“That little boy needs to grow.

He’s really too little

And not enough to eat you know.”

So out came Homer’s big fishing net.

“I’ll get me some people yet!”

“Don’t do that!” Solomon said.

“If you deplete their kind

Then they will all be

Much too hard to find.

And more than that

There is another reason

This kind of people

Are all out of season.”

Solomon talked and talked some more.

Homer learned things he didn’t know before.

And so on that beautiful peopling day

Solomon D Salmon and his son Ray

Taught their new friends a better way.

Homer drove home at a slower pace.

He had learned life was not a race.

Homer and Solomon formed a pact.

They made that fish factory

Clean up their act.

And when Homer J Fish

Goes peopling today

He makes sure he does so

The proper way.


Lost Friend

Have you ever lost your appetite? I was sick a year ago  and lost my dear friend, my appetite. It was the first time that had ever happened to me, and I must say, it was very weird. So weird that I wrote this little poem about it.

Oh, by the way, my little friend has been back for a while now and is thriving.


“Oh, where did you go, my little friend?
I searched for you in the fridge,
Thinking perhaps you would be devouring that forgotten pie.
But you were not there.”
“I floated through the tall, fragrant weeds,
Sure I would spot your silly face buried in sauce.
But you were not there. “
“I swam through a channel of chunky soup
And chocolaty smoothies,
But I did not find you.”
“I beat the pavement checking the vestibules
Of fast food boxes
And underneath the fresh grains and greens of the market.
But you were not there.”
“I miss you, my little friend.
Life is not the same without you.
It is dull, bland, even painfully empty.
This pudding and cake life
I cannot take.
I am  waiting patiently for your return.”

Faded Rose: A Poem

Robert Lee Brewer’s poetry blog, The Poetic Asides, held a contest back in 2011  for the creation of a new poetic form. The winning participant, Susan Budig, introduced anapeat. It is based on Anaphora, classified in John Drury’s Poetic Dictionary as a “rhetorical device in which several successive lines, phrases, clauses, or sentences begin with the same word or phrase.” My poem, Faded Roses, follows the anapeat pattern


Faded Rose

Her Beauty fades before never dying

For in her Youth, she was a bud

A bud that swelled with Grace.

Warmth fed her Soul

Sunshine brought her Joy.

Blossoming in Summer’s sweetness

Her Beauty fades before never dying.

Velvet cheeks kissed with dew

Begging to be plucked

Lying in innocent pinkness.

Armed with thorns of Courage

Pricking and bleeding souls

Her beauty fades before never dying.

Still soothing the spirit

With silken promises.

Feeling September’s restful chill

Life’s Autumn drawing nigh

Giving in to more vibrant color

Her Beauty fades before never dying

To turn a deeper hue.

Frost worn leaves etched with time

Petals drifting in the wind

The Promise of new Life to come

Warmth from a New Day’s sun

Her Beauty fades before never dying.