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Elioinai Oct 2014
They talk and bend,
They draw and write,
Harder and faster,
With ever clean hands,
Which might sometimes stoop to dirt,
Only to be disinfected after,
They peer down the microscope,
And examine the cells,
Each year the pictures are better,
But their eyes are darker,
They work,
To add that extra diamond,
And slave,
To remove that spot of rust,
But all their work,
Is like adding more water,
To a swimming pool of iron,
And their houses increase in space,
And their wives are wrapped in lace,
And their lives go to waste,
As they increase the yield,
They decrease the life,
And all that grow are empty supermodels,
Row by row,
Strong back, strong head,
Sword against the bugs,
And man falls with them,
Forgetting he is made,
Like the bugs himself,
Work,
Not to make the fields full,
But the heart,
Then the rust won’t matter,
And if pictures of cells are hazy,
Your eyes will be clear to understand
17 Feb, 2014
Inspired by The Omnivore’s Dilemma
Elioinai Oct 2014
Food Matters
“A pill for every ill”
Til they cover every sill,
When will,
This stop?
Too many synthetics,
Too many extracts,
Buried in white powder,
My mouth burns,
And my stomach bleeds,
My energy is robbed,
And my joy slips away,
When I cannot focus on my people,
And my sun.
True,
God’s joy transcends all ills,
But he created us to thrive,
Apart from drugs,
To play in all his paint,
And laugh with the universe.
Eat,
Even clean dirt can be better,
Than the plastic covered,
Microwavable,
Sculpture of food in your pantry.
May 6, 2014
Aaron Mullin Sep 2014
When I first began culturing my memes,
I found the soil was rocky, had poor drainage, and little organic material
But life is relentless and these first thought experiments rooted.

They weren't much to look at from above ground,
But those roots were doing important work
Every weak point in the bedrock of my mind was found and exaggerated.

This action created micro fissures
And as the seasons turned and those early plantings faded into oblivion,
Erosion took over the heavy lifting.

With the bedrock now permeable, and the rainy season upon us,
Those cracks filled with water which then turned to ice and,
As autumn turned to winter, the mechanical action of freezing and thawing,

Was responsible for metamorphosing those fissures into actual cracks.

And with spring came more rain,
Washing organic elements into the cracks,
Now my mind had a proto-soil and was much more robust.

However, my garden was always ready, I just didn't realize it.
Life always exists,
When we use the cyclic reminder of the seasons as analogue:

It's much easier to see.

I find it much easier to see when I close my eyes.
Bring those spring rains, bring the pollen, more seeds, spores.
The pollinators are waiting
http://youtu.be/OFzXaFbxDcM
It's Been Years Jun 2014
we live in cities,

where
memories of us collide

and we never  have to hide

what we left behind

and we never really need to tide

cause our tears dried

and for our love we both plied

-o.h
It's Been Years Jun 2014
you're my oxygen
I can't breathe without you

you're my brain
I won't function without you

you're my blood
my body can't circulate without you

together we form a team:

so memorable
so inseparable
so impeccable

never degradable
never unacceptable

always unforgettable
always immeasurable

no one can ever calculate us

even though some might crave us

-o.h
It's Been Years Jun 2014
I know our team has struggles
                                  but I'm okay with that

our love is spread
                never dead
                         never dread

even though
some tears may be shed

even though
some fights might be held

so go ahead

ride your horse

wear your mask

set your tasks

hold you shield

cause we're both soldiers
fighting

fighters in this battlefield

-o.h
Sheila J Sadr May 2014
I.
When I was trying to move out to the city,
I felt, for the first time, the gentle nudge of
your damp snout at the tips of my fingers.
And when your small paws
fearfully clutched the palm of my hand,
you beheld me like a God
and I called your brown eyes
raisins.

II.
I am working on being my own man
who handles the bills, cooks his family dinner,
and, at the vet’s office, doesn’t crumble over phrases like
It’s time to put her to sleep.

III.
The truth is this:
Love is an organic thing,
It fruits and softens.


September 5, 2013 3:15 AM
Revised: December 9, 2013 1:57 pm
(Inspired by "All That’s Left To Tell" - Clementine von Radics)

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