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Leone Lamp May 2021
We've all got memes
Deep down in our genes
Passed down and passed out
Bursting our seams

There are memes in the air
Thoughts and feelings we share
Ideas spinning round
In the clouds everywhere

When was the first meme?
When two primates dared to dream
The same dream, the same things
Long before we had screens

I haz a bucket
A cheeseburger
A chair
I laughed and I clicked
I edited and shared

We're all forging memes
Fresh, new ones everyday
Memesmith is the role
That every poet must play

Memes are part of our soul
They're in our DNA
Y'know what I meme?


Definition of meme

1 : an idea, behavior, style, or usage that spreads from person to person within a culture.
"Memes (discrete units of knowledge, gossip, jokes and so on) are to culture what genes are to life. Just as biological evolution is driven by the survival of the fittest genes in the gene pool, cultural evolution may be driven by the most successful memes." — Richard Dawkins


~05/20/2021
we are all as lonely as each other
trying so hard to keep it together
wearing our masks
building our walls
pretending that it doesn't hurt at all
we are all as lonely as each other
i urge you all to remember
lonely is not forever
we are in this together
we are in this together
Douglas Balmain Mar 2021
This is how the body looks now:
    empty, estranged…
its parts arguing their cases
for emancipation,
sovereignty from the system—
each component demanding
overt consent from all others
before further engaging
in vital collaborations.

This is how the body looks now:
    formless, dissociated…
the war for Independence and
Recognition has left us
devastated by the divisions
of definition—disjointed
structures of severed relations
disavowed of the Whole.
Originally published at https://www.douglasbalmain.com/thisishowthebodylooks.html
Davina E Solomon Mar 2021
There it looms, a life like mountain/ sheathed in fynbos, all shades of green/ while the cape drags in reluctant seaweed/ and the wind makes contrails of my hair/

I ascend too with the heather, the rooibos and the hottentot/ We climb/ now a collective of exaggerated beauty/ defiant in wind, spray and fire/

There are leaves as prone as a flat lined heart/ reeds as resilient as a returning pulse/and we all watch the hope of yolk/ of a Sunday sun dipping into the ocean/promising to rise again/

We creep up the leeward and the windward/ ensconced in the spiral of a soul entropy/ determined to survive every rock and crevice/ to hoist ourselves up the flagpole of the cosmic plan/
I wove the Fynbos or the shrub vegetation of the Cape Floral Region (South Africa) in this poem dedicated to a resilient womanhood.
Orakhal Jan 2021
you'd surely
stop looking for your self

the nothings lost
is the best place to be looking
Orakhal Dec 2020
Please be
as you ask us to be

as we not see you any other way
Orakhal Dec 2020
Winds cry happy
weep no loss
earth shake sunder
bear no cost
sun crack her whip to ray on sight
clay moons a face at huest fright

oceans roar ******* wave
across life's shore her open gaze
a snow white ***** to kiss of truth
at mothers ****** on the tooth
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