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Oil pumps dot the fields for miles,
Like giant metal bison.
Rust for fur,
And shoulders of rotating turbines.
Douglas Balmain Dec 2020
I sunk my fingers down
into the loam of an ancient
buffalo wallow and the
land that had quietly
prepared for their species
untold millennia before me.

I held the buffalo’s
mourning in my heart,
and felt the Buffalo Nations’
cry rattle against my ribs.

I opened myself to the
Earth and it spoke
sorrowfully to me
of its broken home.
Mariah Cuch Jul 2017
Oh mighty brother of the plains
Where have you gone?

Has your life been taken with such ease as a whispering breath?

Oh mighty brother of the plains
Where have you gone?

Decaped of all pride, not just to die, but cry... Oh mighty Brother.
Written when I was 15, homage to Bison, the genocide of both Natives & Bison
Äŧül Feb 2017
It is the feeling of having previously met,
Not necessarily as a professional vet,
Dairy animals mooing to attract.
My HP Poem #1426
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Feb 2017
We use ETBR in the laboratory,
Ethidium Bromide is a poisonous dye,
And it is to be used carefully,
RedSafe is an even deadlier alternative.

Give special attention to its use,
Low - very low amount will do,
Or it can cause health problems,
Victory over nature can be constructive,
Exposure to it can cause cancer,
Should our efforts help in medicine.

Also used is an alternative marker dye,
Lacuna not entertained in it either,
Wear gloves always in the laboratory,
Always in this field of proteomics,
Youth may be affected otherwise,
S**hall be always keeping myself protected.
Another one of my secondary acrostic poems - this time about my work.

My HP Poem #1417
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Feb 2017
Come on buffalo,
Open your mouth,
Of your oral cavity,
Let us collect some tissue,
And let us collect some saliva too,
And then we test for some trefoils,
Fingers crossed – let the expression be true.

It has got to be there,
We know it for humans,
But of buffaloes, we know not,
Let us perform a preliminary study,
There has not been much research,
There is just a foggy, hazy oversight,
Scientific charm – the expression is positive.

Molecular markers in the electrophoresis unit,
Mixed with a visualising dye – the ETBR,
Yes, they will dance positively as expressed,
Against 400 base pairs expressed are the TFFs,
Tough to master this technique moderately is,
We have to take numerous precautions,
Especially with the poisonous visualising dye.
A poem about my work plans.
We are aiming to isolate the TFFs from buffalo oral cavity this time.

My HP Poem #1416
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Jan 2017
You are buffalo!
Your underpants are yellow!
Coz you **** so yellow-yellow!
My HP Poem #1399
©Atul Kaushal
Leah Mar 2013
the wind is taking more drags off my cigarette than I am. that's buffalo;
I won't let you crawl into the gutters,
and die in the snow.
in the alleys of these long lost streets,
we keep trying to revive.

and I ask myself
if you'd let me fall asleep out in the cold,
six shots down & I don't want to know.
I'm still walking on my own,
against the cold, and keeping warm.

I'm taking good care of myself,
now that I know you won't do it for me.
Leah Nov 2015
gimme that elmwood walk where we don't acknowledge each other;
my lips feel on fire and I
count the steps
for every sidewalk square;
Coop Lee Dec 2014
you approach the house in zebra-print pants, wet matches and ice’d driveway,
you stumble to ignite.
spark to flame to enchant the neighborhood with midnight light.
you of the timeless once-was,
of grass or great oak,
you held the family together.
you tried to scotch-tape a butterfly’s pulled-wings back on.

                 [the momentum of love.]

teen boys breakdown in vacant lots
thinking of what you were to them. they
drag girls up and down the hillside, thru holes of the old factory fence,
attempting the ritual of you.
the aluminum hum if wind and night,
of highway lights on the distance.
*** on a tomb of plastic curlings.

you appear in pixels and dark bars,
face painted clown-like.
hydros in your palm, knife in your hip.
you were that girl lost between city sprawl
& old woodwork,
old wooden chairs carved upon and passed back and forth from *** to ***
class to class.

pizza delivery boy.
grease-ring soaked box and to touch his knees.
the channel changes, and he holds his breath for years,
in the wake of you.
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