"parasitism" poems
This is the beat
for the future.
Slow.
Continuous.
Quick in paces.
Slow in the right
places.
The bassline of the future
should be love.
Let's make it as slow and continuous as our ideals have said it would be.
In the last moments
of the world
let every man kiss every man
every woman kiss every woman
every love see love.
Fuhreal,
let's take love
to a whole new level.
Let's make it so beautiful
that we stop killing cockroaches
and poaching
the god's green broaches of branches
full of howler monkeys
howling for conservation against the parasitism
that man has become accustomed to.
Dec 31, 2011
Dec 31, 2011 at 6:55 PM UTC
I think my addictions are addicted to me.
It's a mutual symbiotic parasitism.
I've taken up drinking,
hoping that will push them away.
But it's like lighting a fire
and trying to put it out with gasoline.
Oct 14, 2021
Oct 14, 2021 at 1:46 AM UTC
it was an inevitability
that we'd unearth the evidence
to validate Einstein's theory
of general relativity.
three cheers for the
method of science,
an appliance that
liberates and enlightens,
suffocating the miasma
of dogmatic parasitism.
pariahs can't stand beneath
the weight of empirical data.
a culture of imperialism
intoxicating inane idiots,
inundated by asinine philosophy.
ideologues instigating turmoil—
vainly believing
an intergalactic being
created the cosmos
in seven days for the
predestined elect.
to insist inanely that the legacy
of our existence could be measured
in seven millennia
is to extinguish the light
from the majority
of our neighboring galaxies.
you read the opening lines
of your holy text too literally.
open your mind to the poetry
of a reality that no deity
could ever breathe into existence.
we are not special.
our fate is tied to a
planet choking on CO2
and you deny the truth
in the same breath you
disparage any challenge
to your impotent,
imaginary friend.
**** sapiens—
mere animals
cursed with
conscience.
if you would deny
the ancestral history
of our evolutionary biology
simply on the premise
that it's “only a theory,”
then i'd invite you to put
your vain hypothesis
to the test and take a long walk
off a short bridge.
perhaps the theory of gravity
will provide with you some clarity.
Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 12:01 AM UTC
Hypnotized by your blank kaleidescope
caress you like a Kwashiorkor belly
rotund
smooth and round abdomen, empty and
covered with flies
an allegiance to parasitism,
supported by the skeletal mass
too thin to pull the body along,
ground-glass ground
ochre earth,
away from the feathered death
stepping lively behind you
hooks pierce the sand,
soon your meat.
you scream at me
with colic voice
cut you open
I have no choice
Apr 25, 2011
Apr 25, 2011 at 5:29 PM UTC
If Earth could speak
Would it believe
The relationship with the human race is
Parasitism
If Earth could speak
Would it say
It is suffering
Dying
If Earth could speak
Would it ask
For help
Are humans a burden to the Earth
Or is the Earth a burden to humans
Destruction is needed for creation
Or is there something much bigger at play?
Bigger than sea, space, and partnerships
The earth speaks
The universe speaks
Human consciousness
Be kind to Earth
But never undermine existence
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 11:23 AM UTC
I scramble around a petrol token mug
purporting to be an ash tray stained in neglect
needling between ash and cigarette butts
looking for some spent tobacco to recycle
and breathe in the cancerous smoke of belonging.
"Just don't ever talk about me", he said.
"I am strong when you are feeble", he said.
The doctor twiddles his fountain pen
a parting gift from his late father
held with the poise of grace
and wielded like a lance
the pen can do many things for he and I
prescribe or chastise
the freedom with solitude
and the four white walls
of limiting restraint.
"Just don't ever talk about me", he said.
"We are symbiotic you and I", he said.
I wonder though is it:
Mutualistic
Commensalism
Parasitism or
Neutralism -
Who benefits who?
Do we bathe in each others glory
holding hands in the lost age of reason
comfort in the loneliness of winter
or just a dream of the endless
a figment of the imagination
and the passing of time
looking out of frosted windows.
"Just don't ever talk about me", he said.
"I lead you in the dark, I am your light", he said.
I sometimes step back into the gloom
He fills my capillaries
clogging up my arteries
with his dark and mischievous veins
calling out to faceless strangers
walking past in the haze
the ones the others do not see
just out of line of sight
mottled and disfigured and blurred.
"Have another drink on me", he said.
I am distracted by the minute
leading this shabby existence
and the opening of unpaid bills
and the carnage of last weeks washing
and the bottles of empty beer discarded
like a tramps ***** in the drying sun
monuments to a day before when we were younger
and wrestled in the long grass of salvation
and the long summer days of liberal libation.
"I am the one and only constant you will ever have", he said.
Without him I will be hollow
like a rotten tree trunk
gashed in initials of love letters
with a pen knife
saturated in the remains
of fortified wine bottles
and leaf litter molding
in the dying frost of spring.
"Just don't ever talk about me", he said.
Just don't ever talk about us, is what he meant.
Mar 11, 2014
Mar 11, 2014 at 11:24 AM UTC
You never know
The deafening crush
Of silence until it's right in front of you
Unblinking and unmoving
Gathering your soul and
Scattering it like dust on the
Dirt covered ground
Laughing at your misery
Jeering with hollow lips
Pitted eyes seeming to
Peer into your deepest crevice
The silence is crushing
Eardrums are shattering
Erie chills creep up your
Spine at a deathly pace
The noxious air slipping
Into your lungs at
Suffocating speeds
Marching over your heart
Like soldiers in the regime
Until it becomes a part of you
Never being able to differentiate
Between what is you and
What is it
Corporeal and incorporeal
Bodies twine as one the two combine
In a sickly manner
The relationship that of parasitism
Taking years to remove the parasite called
Silence
Medication helping the bonds to break
Shatter and loosen
The death grip it can have
Don't underestimate the power and effect
Silence will have
Oct 13, 2017
Oct 13, 2017 at 1:19 PM UTC
i'm dropping pin needles on ice
each ting stabs at my own fragile heart,
my ego
it's living, really, there is something alive inside of my throat
it thrusts and kicks like a baby in a womb
i tell myself i need this creature; the parasitism.
least i can do is house misery in hopes some life emerges.
© 2015 Kate Volk
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 9:32 PM UTC
bruise her and she will blossom
lilacs
***** greens
rotten apple browns
touch him and you will rot
fungi on your fingers
brittle nails
decaying flesh
Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 1:33 AM UTC
What better time to admire the rapid bloom of countless species of flowers I cannot match a name to...
And a few that I can,
But the same land which facilitates our growth has sectioned each plot to keep me away from the plants to which I'd harm.
There's no melody behind parasitism and this pollen isn't treating any of us well anyway,
Yet beauty is so timeless,
So radiant—
Too many questions for the roots that hold you steady.
May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 12:04 AM UTC
just like that the pretty girl in my dreams
disappeared freed my sheets to let them
suffocate as usual and i stayed there
facing the ceiling with cymbals’ collisions under my pillow
and for a haze i stayed
still and subsisting on spit and spider mites
like the sea wasn’t swallowing anything
till i was ninety percent salt and crystallized
breathing out dusty alphabet soup into the aether
like anyone with a disdain for capital letters
my circle sends its love along with mutual virtue parasitism
in distress beacons pinged through a dead battery and twitching fingers
and you know it’s for the best
no falling out of bed or breakfasts till the oasis is complete
under construction in the dusty pillowcase i call home
down the street from the abandoned asylum where i learned
mouth too dry and lungs too sharp
a shriveled cactus with paper spines
Jan 26, 2025
Jan 26, 2025 at 10:33 AM UTC
To tell a terminal lamb
About the appeal of a trial.
To speak to the host and holy ghost
of rapacious parasitism
about faith in a God symbiotic.
The elusive cavity of your heart!
These worlds I trespass on, I feel
as though I should be there
Know that
But empathy is the harbinger of heaven and hell!
Some to whom we bear hard-shelled witness
Some seem to light a fire in our blood.
All in transient form.
It's all worth a Try, if you're into that sort of thing.
May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 10:34 PM UTC
Half acting you take
the broom for the journey
of doom.
In human odor, you find
a secret sin. In stampede
you may walk on the fallen bodies.
Between me and my, you
stand squeezing the lines
in holy script. There was no dogma.
Your image overwhelms
the prayers, insulting the
future of man.
Like amber encased,
parasitism, comes alive
with mass execution.
Jan 7, 2017
Jan 7, 2017 at 10:59 PM UTC
Mutual respect is the foundation
of any relationship
Understanding, trust and forbearance
are its building blocks
Any relationship should be beneficial
to all the parties involved
But if a party keeps taking advantage
of the other(s), that's parasitism
I will rather be alone than
being in a toxic relationship
Take that bold step to break free
from being a victim of parasitism
Cut loose, create room,
look within, set limits
before being a part of
any form of partnership.
Oct 6, 2019
Oct 6, 2019 at 8:42 PM UTC
"Our task is to show that however,
Wonderful things may appear,
In today’s World and lifestyle,
They may not be all that great,
Even the darkest night will end,
And the sun will rise regardless,
Our optimism changes to pessimism,
Roses that may grow on a stone,
Not in the earth as optimism has shown,
Love can exist or it can turn parasitism,
It’s wrong to believe that all will be optimistic,
That parasitism will continue to exist,
Oceans feel the love the upsurge bares,
The stones of the rock will bear a flower,
Rain will fall and so kisses the flower,
Will endure there growth of optimism,
Solitude will bring a cumbersome heart,
Depression will remain in a semblance,
New destiny will precede the pessimism,
As loves fate arrives pessimism succumbs,
To an optimistic aspect until ones last breath"
By AG 2/2018
Feb 22, 2018
Feb 22, 2018 at 7:24 PM UTC