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"protist" poems
You're a staircase of kingdoms. A bacteria, hosted by tolerance. A protist, without an identity of your own. A fungus, risky and thriving on what once was. A plant, needy for growth that flowers ambition but wilts your respect. An animal, a robotic hunting machine that thinks it can think.
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Nov 18, 2010
Nov 18, 2010 at 6:10 PM UTC
The Science of You
In short: you're a protist. ©Copyright 2014 Written and Edited by Racquel Davis
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Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 4:25 PM UTC
Down to a Science 🔬
Down the lonely depths in her bowels of pressured pitch brave, his tiger stripes. Her inner most womb where amorphous life ignites closer to one dream Submarine shelter In Ocean's love, gravitates: carnivore protist.
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Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 2:30 AM UTC
NAUTILUS
Part Two A WALK UNDER THE SEA _____________ BARRIER REEFS Great Walls dividing vast cold deeps from shallow seas. Hail Metropolis! SEA-HORSE Pregnant father sways, rocking-chair to ocean's gait, champions patience's race DEEP (BLUE) How poignant the face, sunset eye reflect such depth, I see how you feel. FLASH-FLOOD Heat-wave season's rage: mountains weeping rivers/skies siroccos will dry. OCEAN 1. Undulating thirst un abiding liquid dunes not a drop to drink. 2. Her bright irises blue Mariana Trenches cries deep Pacific. NAUTILUS 1. Down the lonely depths in her bowels of pressured pitch brave, his tiger stripes. 2. Her inner most womb where amorphous life ignites closer to all dreams. 3. Submarine seashell in Ocean's wild, gravitates: carnivore protist. FATHOM 1. Dungeness landscapes: fear an abyss blindly swims, (but) in my thoughts you glow 2. A conflagration in liquid skies where we bathe minds a light to see 3. As deeply precious a breath that remembers you soaring dark chasms 4. Dread at failing Love, I give a drop in the pond my life for Gaia... 5. A magic nation: love for water will not thirst imagination. [ In your thoughts I (will) glow. ]
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Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 4:04 PM UTC
WALKING. POETRY. (Collected Haiku)
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.
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Apr 2, 2021
Apr 2, 2021 at 8:50 AM UTC
Just A Human
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.
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Organisms Designed Controlled Formed Slaves To Fiction An Exclusive Club Follow The Rules Prepare To De-exist
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Nov 12, 2020
Nov 12, 2020 at 10:43 AM UTC
I Protist