"sapien" poems
I. Neptune’s Theater
A rock spins through the universal tumbler
and its warm blue pools calcify
as turquoise Neptune in his cloudy blue bath bath
builds a lace castle with his fingertips
Sculpts a submerged eden of crimson and emerald
where painted parrots chat up cardinals
butterfly and angel fry sway with wave pulse
and foliated coral fingers beckon from arched windows.
Neptune’s children are flat and bright, spined and notched
free yet entangled in lace mesh ecosystem
beneath an array of bioluminescent stars
as a gangly pretender watches and blows bubbles.
II. Sapien Siege
The hot acidic hand of death grasps
the mesh rends and tangles
the ecosystem shattered
reef’s loosed children scream beneath planet’s stars.
Butterflies impaled
cyanide-swooning damsels
mesh-tangled angels hauled heavenward
coral to potash, corpses to coal.
The pretender to the throne blinks
rubs blurry lenses,
kicks plastic fins
and moves on to the next show
Unseeing and unaware
of the luminous filament in his wake.
Self-appointed divinity,
deus ex machina.
*******************************************************************************************
Ann says: All of the animal and human characters in this poem (except Neptune and The Pretender) are named after coral reef fish. Coral reefs, one of the most diverse ecosystems, are expected to be largely extinct within one human generation. Deus ex machina is Latin for “God from the machine.”
Copyright 2013 by Ann Marcaida.
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 3:43 PM UTC
They don't breath under water they told me
I did think they were joking at first
but when a ship hit our rocky outcrop
they were screaming underwater
I tried to pull some down to the depths to safety
they just convulsed in spasms and died
as many as I tried to save
they just died in my arms
screaming underwater
Do they all die this way
with no gills and no will to live
yet I know they breath through their skin
I did read that in sapien law
in water they take no oxygen in
and so all that I tried to save
just died screaming underwater
my fins will be clipped now
**** just like my bloodied wings
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 7:31 PM UTC
I’m definitely Matrixed in,
feel like every girlfriend is a program,
feel like every experience is a dream,
feel like I don’t feel anything at all now,
maybe I’m a machine,
maybe I’m not a human being,
maybe I’m more cyborg than Sapien,
maybe I’m more electron than neuron,
and maybe none of this matters,
maybe we’re cogs in the vehicle,
maybe we’re abnormal cyborgs,
more flamboyant than incog,
more insignificant and important,
and maybe I’m special,
and maybe I do stand out more than most,
but at the end of the day I don’t think it matters,
because when it’s all said and done everything is just dust,
no justice,
it’s justice,
feeling a bit awkward and bazaar,
suspecting that they spiked the fruit punch,
and I don’t know for sure that none of this is real,
but I do have a pretty strong hunch,
want fresh squeezed not pre-made,
want a spontaneous feeling not an automated response,
want to stay here with you for as long as I can,
but I think that might be impossible because I’m probably already gone,
so please say something real or say nothing at all,
constantly trying to find ways to reaffirm our existence,
that’s why I still go out socialize and initiate relationships,
even though every time I do it all feels sterile cliche and pre-rehearsed,
but maybe that’s because we’re living in a Matrix,
I’m definitely Matrixed in,
feel like every girlfriend is a program,
feel like every experience is a dream,
feel like I don’t feel anything at all now…
∆ LaLux ∆
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 7:49 PM UTC
DEAR MOM I AM HOMOPHOBIC
Dear mother
My guardian angel and protector
Am afraid to tell you
He was staring at me
When i went to the loo
His cold gaze pierced my back
And his unblinking eyes sent jitters down my spine
A creeping feeling enwrapped my whole being
When i turned his charming stare held me prisoner and he smiled at me
Mother i could feel his look perusing me like an art book
From head to toe i was studied
I felt naked as his hungry stare undressed me
To him i was a piece of an apple pie
I could make out gurgling sounds as he swallowed dry saliva and licked his death black lips
Lust was painted all over his mane covered face
Mom i was really scared
I regretted stepping in that club
When i returned to my seat he bought me beer
My liqour thirst was hard to bear
I betrayed my masculinity
And accepted drink from a **** sapien of male fraternity
My mind was having a cold war with my soul
Wierd thoughts tormented my intoxicated body
Where did i stand???
He welcomed himself in my table
With a gecko like grin etched on his face
"You are handsome"those were the ugliest words i had ever heard from a man
My owl like eyes bore onto him with blazing anger dancing on my eyelids
I was shaking not because i was cold but murdering instincts were elecrocuting my adrenaline
He mistook my silence and commited a cardinal sin by placing his manicured hand on my thighs
He winked as his blinking broke the speed record
I cleared my throat and i knew it was time to recorn
He thought his tactics had worked
I withdrew my hand from my pocket raised beer bottle as if to toast
He hastefully followed suit
"Chee....he never finished as i bathed him with my beer
"Hey ****** am straight"i yelped as i crushed the beer bottle on his thick skull
I heard a deafening yell
The rest i remember is being frog matched into a police car
So dear mom its not my fault am in jail
Am here because i fought
Mom am not a law breaker
Am here because i am homophobic
Feb 26, 2016
Feb 26, 2016 at 4:24 AM UTC
Waking up seems like a futile effort to me.
To be in this realm, such a pity for all mortals.
As to one day, all of them will suffer the fate
of the unlucky ones.
Oh, how the world is polluted nowdays.
Mayhem, mayhem, and more mayhem.
Corruption, bloodbaths and destruction
for the race to see which is the alpha-male.
In the end, it is the survival of the most deceitful.
In the end, I am still on my bed.
My bones ache while my muscles creak.
Waking up is still a futile effort to me.
Sheilding from the disasterous world using my comfy blanket,
seems like a good idea.
But, if all of us were to slumber,
than who will straighten things out?
I arise and go,
to face the polluted world.
There, my legacy awaits
as another **** sapien.
That will uphold the truth
as all if us are responsible,
of how polluted the world is.
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 10:15 PM UTC
Lights off,
doors locked,
windows shut,
blocked off.
No sound,
no sight,
no love,
no light.
Sparks fly,
don't ignite,
separation,
blank life.
Years gone,
love lost,
never hurt,
at what cost?
Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 1:52 PM UTC
**** if I know.
I scarcely understand much anymore.
I am but a puddle of coherent reminiscences
oozing across the floor into decoherence and
diffusing into maximum entropy.
We are in Hell:
all is Maya,
all is Mara,
all is Dukkha.
Yet, we are slaves
who love our chains.
And I am a lifeless, fetal,
**** economicus,
mortifying de rigeur
in the ossified skull of a
long forgotten **** sapien.
If only those kinship instincts could've
survived the havoc we've wrought.
Look at what we've done.
Look at what we do.
**** for money.
**** for oil.
**** for land.
**** for 'justice.'
**** for God
**** for 'the cause'
**** for the sake of killing,
and pave over what's left.
Leave a few trees and bushes for our
dystopic terrarium.
'Our Synthetic Environment,'
old Murray[1] called it.
Now, walk into the forest.
Be there. Stay there.
Do you feel it?
Any of this nonsense we call
'civilization'?
Or
is it that you feel something more. . .
poignant?
More true?
To a point where our heated debates
appear as no more than frivolous diatribes?
When do we stop all this narrative solipsism
and get to the ******* point?
None of this is real.
Our thoughts are not our own.
Have they ever been?
The Spectacle [2] reigns supreme
as we idle spectators
speculate idly upon it.
Borges's fable of the cartographers [3]
has reached its apotheosis,
and we are its unwilling
and unwitting victims. . . .
Jan 13, 2021
Jan 13, 2021 at 2:01 AM UTC
BANG CRASH BANG CRASH
HuuuuBANGmmmmm. WhCRASHir.
I hold my fist in the air against
a specimen that would commit genocide against me,
a semi-sapien in that humanity is devoid.
CRASH the people we call monsters.
BANG the sound of nuclear omnicide.
whiirrrr. If we all die, it'll be a great
CRASH to ignore. FUCK'em;
I'll toss my plastic in the heap
if it means we melt off the planet
or drown in our own eventuality.
If it BANGs it's head voluntarily
why's it white like a straight jacket [?],
why's isn't it a criminal like Nixon,
like no bird and two Bushes. CRASH
CRASH
BANG CRASH BANG CRASH
Hum. Whir.
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 3:46 AM UTC
Oh, I can't wait until we can paint clashing colors on our neighbors' doors,
leaving love notes in star-shapes, saying ha ha ha ha, We love you!
It's okay because the paint comes off when you kiss your love
and appreciate the sky and nod to your reflections in the night eyes
and fall in love with someone's mind.
But only then, only then does our message enlighten.
It's our life purpose to brighten your slacking eyes and to inspire you
to smile at the trees, to make eye contact with the homeless, to give flowers to strangers.
Blow bubbles, blow kisses, wink, and embrace!
Oh, I can't wait until we bury each other in sand,
Oh, oh, I can't wait until I can smooth all woes walled into your forehead.
To count your freckles and draw my dreams on our bedroom walls.
Oh I can't to wait to put olives on your fingers, put olives on your fingertips,
Because you have silly tendencies.
Don't let jealousy convince desire to worship ice cream cone gravestones.
When you bite your lip, don't eat pennies for at least a while.
Oh, I can't wait to play hide and seek with our identities and fidelities.
Oh, I can't wait to gather basketfuls of hope and lust.
Oh, I can't wait to hunt for honeysuckles and trust.
Are any sapien sexuals willing to step forward and comfort me?
Because I can't wait to see you again.
But, I can wait, I can wait, because
We blow each other kisses.
MWAH!
Feb 13, 2010
Feb 13, 2010 at 9:32 PM UTC
The Chinook and Monsoons have no effect.
Bring rain or snow, sleet or hail.
The Tropics of Cancer and Capricorn
Can shift or stay.
The wadi and oasis can pool or dry.
Fogs can roll, jet streams can carry their worst;
Hurricanes and tornadoes can wreck havoc.
This is my Kouri, my Oued, myTog.
All the animals are welcome to eat and drink.
There's plenty.
Migration is unnecessary.
The watering holes are wet or arid.
The desert can bloom or hide.
The skylights can shine or dim;
Moons can be full, new or in between.
This is my Nahal, and my Nala,
This is my Dry Season.
As expected,
Feast is followed by famine;
Plenty by scarcity.
Inhale, exhale.
I shoot a shot of Jamie,
Having watched it pour,
That dram of gold
Eclipsing all that shines.
That one diluvial ounce:
Then my cave calls.
This is my Akhet.
My Wet Season.
I enter sapien-like
And grow hair.
The animals scatter.
The cave fills with bones and bottles.
I eventually emerge
With the changing of the season,
With the return of reason,
And see;
Then hope
My dim familiar shadow
From the dry season
Will lengthen.
All I need is water.
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 2:58 PM UTC
My bastardized Latin name approximating "[One who] reflects inner wisdom."
I love playing with etymology.
Cogitationis roughly translates to "thinking/meditation/reflection"
Sapien sort-of means "wise/wisdom/sentient" (like **** Sapiens)
Intrum is something like "inner/inside/within"
and the letter u was once writ as the letter v in the Latin world, so I replaced the us with vs and trifled with likely absolutely incorrect suffixes to make it more fun to say.
Hence: Cogitatio Sapientvs Intrvm
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 10:13 PM UTC
anger unabated
as sinful "humanity"
sows
karmic seeds
of self destruction
the future
visceral
in the present
Oct 3, 2016
Oct 3, 2016 at 6:56 AM UTC
A wet machine encased in skin,
Eating, Pooping, Sleeping all day long.
I meant to describe my baby,
But am I any different?
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 10:53 PM UTC
**** sapien*
fluid secretion from fountains
under
my
tongue
escape when I talk
fumble over words
pool in the cup
by my bottom teeth
lower lip ****
and when I spit
all
of my secrets
those I promised
desertification occurs
i am rock
knock with bone
dry
come and pick me, cotton picker
the seeds of my ignorant youth
will
stab
at the
hands
slaver is hurt
saliva
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 5:13 PM UTC
Hi. I'm human.
I make a lot of mistakes.
I'm hard-headed.
Assumptious.
Emotional.
Human.
I say things I don't mean,
And I mean things that I don't say.
I'm very curious., yet I fear the unknown.
I display all of my vices and conceal all of my virtues.
I get in my own way.
I'm human.
I am very unique, yet completely ordinary.
I lose interest in things quickly,
Yet stick with others 'til the end.
I'm loyal, yet promiscuous.
I want it all, but I'm happy where I am.
I'm quick to love amd slow to hate.
Well... Most of the time.
I am shoot first and ask questions later.
Well... sometimes.
I believe that there is a being greater than I.
And, no, I don't mean Beyonce.
I believe that science s a way to explain religion.
I believe in magic.
I'm Human.
I'm a bit sociopathic,,,
A bit crazed...
A bit depressed...
...but still lovable.
I'm very lonely,
but prideful and independent.
I'm desperate for love and need a good hug.
I'm human.
I'm stressed about the small things and
Lax about the big.
I set goals I never work towards,
And pass up opportunities that were thrown at me.
I stand up for what I believe-
Even if it's just in my imagination.
I want to fit in.
I want to stand out.
I'm a walking contradiction.
I'm human.
I have been stripped of my innocence and ****** into the real world.
I am given questions that I cannot answer.
I am given choices that aren't mine to decide.
I work through the hard times,
And pray for rain.
I have little faith in myself, though I would support my kin to the end.
I detest the atrocities of life,
And then add to their fuel.
But, I'm human.
I submerge myself in material things so that I don't have to face the terror that is our Earth.
Not the Earth of nature,
But the Earth of OUR creation.
I do stupid things, and ignorantly stand by them.
I do smart things, and stupidly apologize for them.
I have attitude-
PLENTY of it-
But maybe not the right type.
I'm human.
I defy the laws I have created.
I live to die.
Sunrise to Sunset.
I am NOT infinite.,,
,,,
,,,
,, ,And that scares me.
Because i'm human,
I am not limitless.
I push my own boundaries,
And orance on the border of sanity.
And
I
Love
It.
I'm human.
So my lies come easy but my truths are hard.
I'm scared of the dark,
Since it screams the truth.
I embrace thelight and oush the unwanted into it's shadows.
I want life to be eventful,
but I don't ever wanna lesve my bed.
I laugh.
I cry.
And panic.
And rejoice.
Bacause I am human.
100% Homo-sapien.
And this. Is. Me,
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 12:07 PM UTC
The golem quakes from the grounds tremble.
The mountain howls with the wolf.
Everything that was supposed to hold mystique,
has been corrupted by proof.
A god that cant eat.
A people that cant lift their own arms,
in arms that hold each other.
Now the thought mistraced faith reforms,
deformity causes alarm in the masses because difference hits too hard.
Control mind, control body, control philia, measure all your calculations always magnanimous dose. Part.
Relinquish. Relinquish!!
Give all sanctity and hope to the state,
they will focus your hate,
through a photoelectric device.
Let them mold you into natures and **** sapien sentient plight.
Allow your shape to be devoid of integrity.
Be all you can be.
Join anything that ends with an A. Starts with an US.
If you ever take off your mask and see the cave for what it is,
we will **** you.
Plato is the design for our torture system.
When some one says. "be born",
concede and reply with "nevermore".
End life in the womb.
You will live the rest of the days light, in darkness.
Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 12:31 PM UTC
I am the sinner
I am the saint
I am the butcher
I am restraint
I am the tyrant
I am the slave
I am the migrant
Am I depraved?
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 4:23 PM UTC
I preach a sermon unheard of those herding
Filling the ever-expanding sky with a lesson worth learning
But willful do the people of the ground need to be
To pluck the thread of true happiness and glee
To bend the frame of minds, and alter the realm of their own time
Many collapse their own airways in fear of other frequencies interfering
But can we not see our voice is the only bearing in this mechanical clockwork we're fearing
Humble voices worth applauding hide behind the voices
Passive to all, in procrastination they fall
The reality of loss can only sober one briefly
Till we return to binge on our shallow lives so deeply
A predecessor forgotten imbues nothing but doubt
And all confidence you had will soon disperse
If you don't take a look at who you are and converse
Comparisons unneeded, will only leave you wrought
Your inner-being forever saught
A flock will the sapien always be rooted to
Wingspans of all lenghts suited
Every flight pattern a breeze transcended
Only in this will you find that you grew
Only in this will you find that you flew
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 12:45 PM UTC
My method of living here
Is no longer fashionable
To read to write to venture
Is now seen as second class
To experience has evolved
I am man and machine
A homo-sapien 2.0
Letters pour forth from my hands
Like a pitcher filled with sand
The words worth less
Then the commodity of nothing
What is the point of the professor's polished shoe?
What are we all really trying to do?
Surviving is a middle weights goal
Transcending oh Heavy Weights Behold!
Near to death we link arms to appearent madness
We've entered the dark realm of the void and it is
Very
Very
Bleak here
To die human
Is no longer
A feasible option
May 31, 2011
May 31, 2011 at 9:34 PM UTC
It's the way he looks at you a vet said
He's right
Your brother gone, only you are left
cross eyed full blooded Israeli street cat
who, as soon as his eyes were unstuck from infection
gave me that look
A tiny kitten, the size of my hand
He looked into my eyes, past the retina
into what lay beyond, my soul?
Human and animal boundaries blurred
He wanted to know me
Most cats are just cats
Like your brother,
Beautiful eyes, but a cat's stare
A cat's life, intersected momentarily with a **** sapien
a ground ape
But you are different
You are interested in me
You are a cat who studies humans
Who wants to know them, bond with them
He's a great cat, they all said
at the vet
My precious one, please stay a long time
Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 8:51 PM UTC
Blink,
the lightning flash
still severs
through closed eyes
Center,
on the temporary illumination
and periphery is
destroyed
Deep in the purple aftermath,
radiance remembered
as horrid ominous thunder
applauds
Defiant fear,
seeking to embody
godlike
power...
- fr
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 3:19 PM UTC
I had a talk with a fetus today.
A mind talk.
I wasn’t aware of such an ability
Until I encountered this incubating sapient sapien.
We talked in a language consisting of feelings and emotions –
No trace of an actual language;
No words.
He conveyed warmth.
Mind numbing warmth and happiness.
Mind enhancing.
Mind glowing.
Life glowing.
Radiant joy ran down my legs
And down through my feet,
Straight into the ground.
Into the Earth.
The planet then sighed a mighty sigh of great relief,
Somehow knowing that this child had been born.
Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 6:06 PM UTC
cubical geniuses
myopic and tedious
worker bee morals
seeking corporate laurels
conspicuous consumption
erosion of gumption
hating and trolling
**** sapien lemming
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 3:31 AM UTC