"phylogeny" poems
There’s a corner of my basement
I can see it from the couch
It’s a doorway of light
Opening to a stairwell
A light is on near my bed
It’s small
A phone perhaps
I have headphones on
So It’s hard to sleep comfortably
I like to nestle my head into the crook of my arm
I stare at a worn down drop-ceiling
Those two lights are on either side of my vision
I keep waiting
I keep rolling into the cracks
I’ve had to adjust the cushions far too many times
A smile
A warmth
My eyes
I don’t want to swallow
The jar is closed
Pandora’s box of light opened while I streamed blues on Pandora
And I see the lights go static
They bend into each other in the dark
I wave my fingers in front of my face
I’ve probably killed a few brain cells here
Definitely.
Sorry Mom
I was bored and rubber cement is only 3.97
I’m drunk on a cleanse from oxygen
I’m sure my nostrils will thank me later
My brain could use an adhesive
Flexibility would bond loose ends
And repair the divisiveness
I have my hands in everything
And I can’t remember the last time I stepped in dog ****
But a hand in phylogeny is a backhand to Baptists
A hand in salvation is a slap in the face to the Darwinists I love everyday
I have a toast!
To the moment the rapture brings about our extinction my friends!
At least everyone thinks I’m stupid.
Right in the middle of the room is the right place to be
A bullseye for stone chuckers and monkey *******
A hand out for the druggies
And a jab at the churches who aren’t doing anything
A round of applause for cruel irony
And a finger turned up in a creative way to everyone who’s laughing at the episode
Vishnu would have a hay day
And I could use the extra hands.
Jesus’s are tied- I mean nailed up at the moment
But when miracles don’t happen anymore
Go read first Samuel, and you’ll see all this **** went down before
And there’s another cycle
History repeats itself
In through the nose and out through your mouth
Just keep a nostril over the jar
And don’t die
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 1:58 PM UTC
Sitting high atop ****** Mountain
I’m feeling my phylogeny overwhelm rationality
perturbing stirrings
both primitive and powerful
considered improper at the moment
Surrounded by beauty natural and athletic
of heights, valleys, children, and women
I’m keenly aware that
unnecessary stresses
grow into other messes
Hours melt to days
and I wonder where, how and with whom you are
time slips away
forgotten feelings
dry permanently on the hot summer pavement
Ontogeny . . . phylogeny . . . freedom and fear
who am I within my existence?
to relieve my mind of overthinking
I must
overcome the fear of underthinking
And what say you
amid the quiet chaos of our souls
beyond putting one foot in front of
the other
as we fall apart our separate ways?
26.vii.10
****** Creek, CO)
Mar 5, 2011
Mar 5, 2011 at 3:12 PM UTC
“I think that I shall never see”
a tree thin as phylogeny,
looks poor, no fruits nor leaves for tea,
Yet means so much as Darwins see.
rooted, unrooted, a weird tree,
well, Nature, too, selects weirdly.
No other tree much affects me,
keeps changing my taxonomy,
splitting-lumping, lumping-splitting,
because more data keep coming.
“Poems are made by fools like” you,
but cladograms, don’t make me blue.
Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 5:19 AM UTC
The old champion bows her head and drops her torch.
Fatigue has set in after a century of drudgery
And all her commitment shown, no one can question her decision.
Her partisans are bleak and sympathetic
For how long should they ask the weary warrior to keep standing?
The new masses turned away and the poor exiled under law of phylogeny,
There is now no beacon but a rickety fence creakin’
That children fear when blows the old wind, once called freedom.
Jun 25, 2017
Jun 25, 2017 at 3:31 PM UTC
Sun swims inside blue sky
Birds mimic sweet air
Day unfolds to celebrate.
Celebrate the phylogeny of a new day.
Summer air percolates in lungs.
Ears drums attune to moment
Time to whisper prayer
Prayer of thanks for gift of day.
Heartbeat pushes cells to dance
Eyes open window of light
Smile mounts upon face
Footsteps cavort upon Mother Earth.
with graceful tango
And graceful Soul expansion meets sacred day.
Aug 8, 2020
Aug 8, 2020 at 8:58 AM UTC
Something has happened, and I'd be remiss
If I neglected to tell you this:
There's reason to worry, but try to calm down.
Acrobat is back in town!
His ancestors lived at the Long Beach Pike
Starting way back in the days of Ike.
You have a right to be concerned,
For people all over the town have been burned.
Not a very good diplomat
Is Acrobat, the harbor cat.
When you're dining, be on guard:
He doesn't leave a calling card.
Calamari has its appeal,
But sushi is Acrobat's favorite meal.
He'll ****** the salmon right off of the rice.
(He much prefers seafood to mice.)
Before fried cod can touch your lips,
He'll steal the fish but leave the chips.
He doesn't need a welcome mat--
Not Acrobat, the harbor cat.
At barbecues it's always unclear
How certain items can disappear.
So if you are missing a sausage or two,
A chicken leg, or even a few,
It's not too hard to believe, is it,
That Acrobat was paying a visit?
Swiping food for him is a cinch.
But rodents…well…they'll do in a pinch.
Be on the lookout if you are a rat
For Acrobat, the harbor cat.
There are some who can outfox a fox.
Just after dawn on the fishing docks,
Out of the blue, someone yells, "Wait!
What has happened to all my bait?"
While he stands there scratching his head,
They say that behind the cleaning shed,
Hidden among the buckets and mops,
Acrobat sits, licking his chops.
He won't hang around and stay for a chat--
Not Acrobat, the harbor cat.
Now Acrobat, a cagey sort,
Doesn't believe in child support.
He WON'T help raise his progeny
And blames it all on phylogeny.
He's quite the dandy and quite the cad.
But watch out if you make him mad.
I would wager that many regret
Ignoring him as a credible threat.
You really want to avoid a spat
With Acrobat, the harbor cat.
-by Bob B (1-23-20)
Jan 24, 2020
Jan 24, 2020 at 8:40 AM UTC