"microbe" poems
It's been a month since the illness started,
catching like wildfire,
the world's departed
it started off with the vast mutation
of a microbe that struck the nation
the pain it's caused, the lives it's destroyed
people tried to hide, they just cant avoid
that cloud that hovers over,
thats the illness
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 2:23 PM UTC
1.
On a nameless planet, in ferment we first met,
eons ago, tiny microbes, evolving we were still,
yet love a flickering light, bound us together.
As two galaxies were merging fiercely then,
to turn us and our nameless pang,to worthless dust
there wasn't any time left for a future together.
In a microbial kiss pathos ruled,we melted as one,
promised to remember this tryst, imprinted so deep
wherever in cosmos we would meet in future
in whatever form we may be at that juncture.
2.
This morning at the Metro that pang did revisit,
seeing you gazing at me in goosebumps I stood,
two galaxies within, I sensed were closing to to merge,
coming to my senses again I find you've vanished
a microbe, you are in the air that every minute I breathe.
We will conquer time, go beyond, love has power infinite,
the encounters in flashes would intimate our impending union.
Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 7:33 AM UTC
a microbe,
a stab,
in many years,
in a few minutes,
sometimes
always
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 12:43 AM UTC
I've looked at star filled skies
At life in microscopes
I've stared at hills and oceans
To find connectivity
But I have found
I see You clearest
Not looking past this skin
For You're the best in me
When I see gentleness
Like giving of myself
Being kind to others
Helping weaker ones I see
Caring for older beings
Showing youth the paths
And scorning selfishness
I see that love must be
His modus operandi
That is what I recognize
When everything is said and done
He is the grains on sandy beaches
He is the fish beneath the sea
He is the galaxy afar
The very tiny microbe
Everything I see
And finally
Whatever else
God is love in me
Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 12:33 PM UTC
I'm at my wit's end.
Fed up, burned out,
sick and tired.
Racing through alcohol fueled depression
because I'm not free, to be me.
Judged, criticized, crucified
held to the expectations
of other people's self-serving morality.
I'm a cog in a machine,
rolled under the wheels,
of a small business owner's
capitalist pipe dream.
I'm a pawn in a game
of war of money of politics.
Mislead, misdirected.
mission critical prime directive.
It's a story as old as "civilization"
all of this dehumanization.
Turning me into something
that serves you better.
I'm warning people
to stay away from me
because I see through their ****
and its ******** on ******** on ******** on ********
I'm warning people
I can't take much more
because every human being
is an ******* and a *****
Because we put these labels
on being truthful and free.
Because someone put a label on you
and now you put one on me.
Because someone taught you
its okay, to be
ignorant and mean.
And now I, have become
indignant and belligerent
which is just one step away
from being just like you.
But how do I move away?
Do I pack up the truck
and literally move away?
to where?
Are people somehow better somewhere?
Or do I just get as far away
as I can from them, from you?
Living off the grid
makes it hard to get laid.
Living off the land
makes it hard to get paid.
And you've been raised
to be a slave,
a wage parasite
on a dying host.
You want more than to survive.
You want to thrive.
You want to live forever
but will die of cancer or suicide.
The baby jesus inside me
has its face smashed into a tv screen.
The buddha inside me
is tired of taking the blame.
If every step kills a bug
and every bite kills a plant
and every breath kills a microbe
and every death of a dictator kills a universe of bacteria
then the only right action is inaction
and every action is inherently wrong.
Morality is a psychosomatic symptom
and our system is inherently flawed.
I try to escape and it seems like there's no way.
There's no light at the end of the tunnel,
and no traction on the corpses of the fallen.
There's a dream of hermitage, and the sadness that follows.
There is sadness in every corner bar and every heartbeat.
Sadness in every wilted limb and worried brow.
Sadness in every frustrated plea for release.
Sadness in the teardrops of the creation.
Sadness tumbling down like shards of glass
from the millions of dreams
broken by the machine.
Constant grinding.
Sep 12, 2013
Sep 12, 2013 at 1:20 PM UTC
Amputated human beings, only
gears, nuts and bolts that make up
the machine. Oh woe, who are we
post industrialization
but the first positive proton
to survive its opposite, the first
fiery bursts of fusion
to breathe light into blackness.
The first hydrogen atom
to find its partner, the first
galaxies to swirl and dance
to gravity’s tune. We are
the Earth’s first rain, mud puddle
and microbe. The first furry mammal
and the last dinosaur.
We are the last breath of humanity,
the Sun’s last ray of visible light,
the first collision of galaxies
and the last supernova.
We are the last breath of the universe
the silent second before heat death.
We— not humanity, not Americans, or any nationality, not **** sapiens but we, the consciousness that exists to say the universe knows itself— are the widest rings in a ripple, riding waves set into motion over 13 billion years ago.
Mar 27, 2011
Mar 27, 2011 at 8:44 PM UTC
I see the needle in my eye
I see the silver tip
That holds every microbe known to man
I see it
In my eye,
In front of my eye-
The tip glistening under the
Beam of light that has refracted
From the broken windows,
it's getting closer now.
The silver pin ******
Will soon be dyed in red
And all my secrets and
Rumours
And evil
And good
Will spill into my hand,
Everything that I know
Will be washed away
And all my thoughts
Will kiss the ***** floor
And make a blanket of
Colourless emotions
And all my soul will pour out
When the needle strikes
My eye
Aug 8, 2016
Aug 8, 2016 at 7:27 PM UTC
Let’s make history, you and me.
Yeh, let’s make history, you and me.
Bringing Peace to the world of the free.
Spreading Love all round the globe,
From greatest whale to tiniest microbe.
Let’s make history you and me.
Ain’t no time for a cuppa tea.
But later we’ll have a jamboree.
Let’s make history you and me.
The world’s in a mess, everyone can see.
So many people, so much hate.
We gotta give ‘em a better fate.
Forget religion, forget your race.
Forget your nation, accept God’s Grace.
Come up and join us, let’s have a ball,
With or without some Alcohol.
The Beatles tried this, yes we know,
But that don’t mean we gotta give in.
You can always say I told you so,
Until that Goodness overcomes Sin.
We must keep trying, that’s all we say.
So let’s make history on this fine day.
Paul Butters
Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 6:16 AM UTC
pre-3232:
What is it, Alfred? he asked,
entering the overheated room;
what have we here?
A perfect synthetic replica
of a healthy young female body;
she has every component,
except life itself;
then she shall have it!
I've been working w/
an unusual microbe that feeds on DNA;
if I feed enough chromosomes into the
creatures & we let them loose to infest
ur apparatus;
he suggested, peering over at the doll,
& going on, the accumulated creatures
will coalesce into a single consciousness;
like a hive, indwelling the plastic form;
why, that's genius;
how soon can u start
I'll bring one back to my station
& work on it there, it should be infested
in no time;
where will u get the female chromosomes?
asked the curious replicator;
there may be some women
willing to give a bit away -
replied the genius astrogeneticist,
yet to go mad
Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 8:17 AM UTC
metamorphosis:
chew me up, spit me out
break me into bits
shred me into scraps
do whatever it takes
to make me fall apart.
i'll rise from ashes
i'll glue myself together
piece by tiny piece
every little microbe
every drop of blood.
like kintsugi art
there is beauty
where the cracks are
there is gold in my veins
there is stitchwork in my cells
there is inferno in my heart.
metamorphosis:
break me down, build me up
transform, rebirth, rearrange me
make me resilient
make me relentless
make me right
make me new
Nov 24, 2017
Nov 24, 2017 at 1:24 AM UTC
The Antiseptic Baby and the Prophylactic Pup
Were playing in the garden when the Bunny gamboled up
They looked upon the creature with a loathing undisguised
It wasn't disinfected and it wasn't sterilized
They said it was a microbe and a hotbed of disease
They steamed it in a vapor of a thousand-odd degrees
They froze it in a freezer that was cold as banished hope
And washed it in permanganate with carbolated soap
In sulphurated hydrogen they steeped its wiggly ears
They trimmed its frisky whiskers with a pair of hard-boiled shears
They donned their rubber mittens and they took it by the hand
And elected it a member of the fumigated band
There's not a micro-coccus in the garden where they play
They bathe in pure iodoform a dozen times a day
And each imbibes his rations from a hygienic cup
The Bunny and the Baby and the Prophylactic Pup
Sep 9, 2016
Sep 9, 2016 at 3:11 PM UTC
We are all evolved from the same microbe;
A microbe which evolved into every known species, using just two dozen ingredients; drawn from the same chemical soup.
(We are related to every living thing)
Each and every species is evolving at it's correct / specific survival rate, yet the more we humans progress, the more distance we choose to put between us and our fellow lifeforms; often choosing to alter their evolutionary progress, not for our own survival! but for bit coin, vanity or prestige.
Jul 25, 2021
Jul 25, 2021 at 2:36 AM UTC
I keep seeing the image of a giant
looking down at the world
fearful to walk for crushing those
he can barely see
It comes to me
as I walk to class during the week
It comes to me
as I talk to friends on the weekend
It comes to me
as I think of anything and everything,
and for the sake of god,
I cannot shake it
It comes to me
as a whisper
nibbling at my ear
then
a *****
that burst my eardrum
telling me to
write
Write!
WRITE!
write for the sake of all that is holy,
all that you value, all that is good,
of the giant that you see in yourself,
and the ants you in see in others.
and I cower to its yelling at first,
but then I grow firmer, taller, bolder,
rising bit by bit to face the monster
living in the back of my mind
by the time I stop my growth
I am the size of sky scraper
Everest looking cowardly below
and my beast looking a microbe
at my feet.
this is when I topple
I do not aggress my shadow
for I know it poses no threat
so I fall
down
down
down
my back moving
forward
my head not seeing
where
I am to
go
I fell down
happily
hoping
for the warm covers of my bed
and a good night’s rest
to greet me
Nov 6, 2010
Nov 6, 2010 at 7:57 PM UTC
They're back, They’re back, Were under attack,
The lunar rabbits are out for a snack!
Alert the army, the navy and scrabble the jets,
The rabbits on the moon are down here with nets.
They come armed with cannons with weird purple goo,
They fire brown bullets like moon rabbit poo.
We have to fight back, with our own ***** bombs,
So, Fire the grannies in pink frilly thongs!
If that doesn't scare the big moon bunnies back,
Send in the school teachers, send them in in a pack!
Armed with rulers and dusters and big books of maths,
Throwing questions and fractions and patronizing laughs.
Alert all the animals from around the whole globe,
From the great Megladon to the smallest microbe,
Get the Austrian emu with the horns on its feet,
And the machine gun bees to assemble their fleet.
Call the ninja koalas and the samuari fox,
And rats in the prisons with socks full of rocks.
Ring the axe weilding pugs from Norway’s fjords,
And the peacocks from turkey with tails made from swords
Then maybe we can ride into battle on the back of a beast,
The mysterious king ***** that migrate from the east.
Well almost be ready to hold back the attack then,
I fell for that story once, I will not fall for the same trick again.
Jun 20, 2018
Jun 20, 2018 at 10:24 AM UTC
A lot has been written about monotony
Here I’m only trying it from my vision
It won’t differ much from yours
But even monotony comes in different flavors
Mine is bland. Unimaginably bland.
So much, that I fear the day I spit it out,
it will leave me bitter
I make feeble attempts to break it
A lot like a fifty year old couple argue & fight
They are not trying to spice things up
Just sorting the disagreements and inconveniences that crop up, further strengthening their bond
Each one is a proven pain in the other's ***
But it is familiar, comforting pain
Losing track of the days that I lost
The days they come and go so fast
I’m preparing myself better for the days to come
‘Every new day is an opportunity lost. So you’ve got to seize every opportunity.' I was advised..
It was 00 hours when I woke up
from my untimely slumber to start
this new day on this new note
Although I’m skeptical of the meaning of new day
I don't think they meant it in the technical sense
The day they were referring to probably begins
when the sun shines so bright that it is hard
to keep your eyes closed and pretend to be asleep
In a semi awakened state,
you clasp your genitals,
then scratch them,
stroke your stiffness,
wipe the drooling mouth
or partake in other preferred activities
in any order you deem fit
and thereby amass the requisite energy
to seize the day by the *****
Me,? I’m not really a morning person
It takes a couple of hours for nausea to subdue
After I spat all the toothpaste residue
So I take this to be the start of yet another day which has begun,
and will roll,
with reasonable certainty,
just the same way as did yesterday
Or the day before
Or a day the week before
But I wasn’t here since the beginning of time
I grew from a microbe to a maniac
So I know this is just a phase that will pass
But I can’t seem to place
the beginning or end of it
Shedding hairs, bloating with worries and fat
I came to the sudden realization
that this will soon end
Whether I like it or not
Whether I force it or not
It will come to an end
Like every other thing that started
Here I am, waiting for it to unfold
Like the spectator I’ve always been,
passive with fear and with justifiable cowardice
Dec 6, 2017
Dec 6, 2017 at 12:24 AM UTC
Darling, baby, corazon
Dear, sweetheart, sugar,
Honestly, never your name.
Honey, pet, cinnamon
Carino, mon chou, bunny.
For the day I call you by your name,
Cuddlebear, goddess, pearl
Star, treasure, microbe
Is the day I'm on one knee, love.
May 7, 2019
May 7, 2019 at 1:31 PM UTC
Reality is an empty blank (?)
Expanding, quivering
With its unimaginable scale
in light-years!
Gradually quickening its cosmic throbbing
Peppered with everything that dies
Galaxies
Stars
Planets
People
Obeying a thermodynamic process --
That tyrant among physical laws!
From which nothing is exempt
Even you and I.
Thus, human vanity:
A cosmic joke that fades to nothingness
All aspirations, ambitions
******* by entropy
Quashed to oblivion
All is dust.
And yet, humans toil to fulfill
a delusion
Their hope lies in their work
Their progress, their successes
Salvation!
Still, the universe expands...
Uncaring, disinterested
cold
Not minding the plight
of the human microbe.
Aug 31, 2020
Aug 31, 2020 at 9:59 PM UTC
I’m tired of 1:43
The world around me goes fast
The world around me goes slow
I’m tired of 1:43
I’m tired of 1:44
I breath in
I breath out
I’m tired of 1:44
I’m tired of 1:45
The wind rustles outside my window
The wind stops
I’m tired of 1:45
As time goes by, I grow weary of the world
Both of us moving parts in a bio-mechanical universe
Large and small we play our parts
A speck of dust we are in time
A microbe in the body of the universe
Yet, when I saw you, I felt large
I felt like my tiny existence could have meaning
That with you, I wasn't a speck of dust
But a man longing for your love
And when given that love...
Hmmm.
I love 1:46
Because I’m with you
I love 1:46
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 7:56 PM UTC
In a forest, I hugged a tree
And this tree spoke to me.
It said I have branches above
And I have branches beneath.
I have leaves for photosynthesis,
Just look at my wondrous work.
I take in carbon to release oxygen,
I allow you to be able to breathe,
As I take sunlight into my leaves.
Take off your shoes.
Feel this life with your feet,
The process continues below.
Beneath your very feet
A highway for travel exists.
My roots, pushing through
The soil in hairy branches
Spreading out in all directions.
With chemical trails, they speak
To tell bacteria to wake up!
My sweet treat takes up, then
Share with our microbe friends.
Dear human, I want you to know
The phyla inside me and inside you
Are four and exactly the same.
Together we can feed all life.
Apr 16, 2025
Apr 16, 2025 at 6:31 PM UTC
a blip
on a blight
on a mote
on a microbe
a sea of stardust
black silk
and white rope
hung
above her head
passing, people start to pour in
and limbs hang like they're dead
tingle with their poor sin
a bead
on a brow
on a cry
quiet mystery
a blip
on a blight
on a brick
in the wall
phase
the night, the numbs a haze
the sounds, the stars that scattered
how far she'd had the ache
how slight, the rings of saturn
a haste
on a heart
to calm it down
a push, a pull
to soak it in
the art around
so small, then
regret sets in
the song in the room
and the ghost let in
long that one would leave it soon
a pulse,
a parse
and a hubric hope
tense,
tingling, the sinking slope
sinks into
the stars around
Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 5:21 PM UTC
The core of my heart is compassion, it's warmth passionate.
Enveloped by the pain and sadness of my past experiences.
The bright light hugging it is made from the love I have received in my life. The scars on my heart is proof that life acknowledges me.
The tears that I shed for myself and for those I love is the light and hope I give to others who are shining just as bright.
When I look up to the night sky and gaze the stars we have the tendency to feel insignificant. But it is in this very tendency where our tenacity lies. To want to grow to being significant on cosmic scale. Besides the fact that our tenacity and willpower lies in that very thought we also create an illusion for ourselves. The night sky tells me I'm significant, for we are small yet we matter in the world we live in. When our hearts open our horizon widens, our world becomes bigger but it also deepens. I would like to invite those that say that this world is getting smaller to not look at size but to zoom in on one specific aspect of life. You would realize how significant an ant or a microbe is and just how dependant we are on the smallest of creatures and how significant they are to us. You would realize that the smallest of things allow us to be significant for others and that it serves as the foundation, the stepping stone for us to be significant on a cosmic timescale. Everything is connected and so far everything we know except ourselves honors that connection.
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 4:11 AM UTC
when insects are seen as enemies and nothing more
effort to save Man kinds poor affected Animals
will be in vein
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 2:17 PM UTC
The saints would want me to forgive. That I have
done. Uphill trek, great effort, conquered the summit.
But then the witch doctors have asked me also to forget,
just forget, like nothing happened. The gray amnesia
intensely urged by incessant chants of choral animé
of aging cherubims would make it difficult, quite
difficult, to explain myself, to myself, with all honesty,
how I got the scars that run deep to the core of my unholy,
(Why not just say sinful? But what is a sin, anyway?),
heart. Unreal these demands. Abnormal? Unnatural.
Unnatural such reactions. Like a Shylock, I would have
yelled, nay, sworn (did he swear?) - a Jew also feels
pain, and bleeds - red blood, not green, not yellow –
when pricked, wounded, ****** slashed, crucified.
But I am not a Jew. Neither a Christian. Nor a Muslim.
Not a saint. Just a human.
Just a human. Not an Avenger or any superhero.
Can’t fly. No imaginary avian wings like those
of Caucasian angels. Not bat wings like those
of soot- or ember-colored devils. Outside an airplane
only my thoughts soar across the blue skies
and above the numerous species and varieties
of clouds. No cloudy mind.
Just a human. Blindfolded Science, not blind nor blinded,
called the species I belong to, just one, **** sapiens.
Wise human. Subspecies **** sapiens sapiens.
Wise, wise human. Made up of matter. That matters.
A lot. Matter not essence. Matter of fact. A living thing.
Not a germ nor a microbe nor a god but surely omnipresent.
Not a plant but may be green-minded. Needs plants.
Not a fungus but may be fungus-faced. Occasionally
attacked by the whitening, not by the illusion of being white,
but by blotching, thanks but no thanks to Tinea versicolor
Not a protist. I just protest. And protest I must.
Just a human. Classified as a hominid. A mammal. Highest
Form? Who said so? Aristotle? Highest? No! Form? Yes -
an animal. Not a microbe. Not a plant. Not a fungus.
Not a protist. I just protest. And protest, protest, I must.
Not a virus. Not white, not black, an Asian, a Filipino.
Not your virus. But like all humans, afraid, very much,
of the new coronavirus. But I am
Not the virus.
Afraid of coronaviruses, and all other deadly viruses,
because I am. Just a human.
Apr 2, 2021
Apr 2, 2021 at 8:50 AM UTC