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The engineers they tweak the DNA,
fostering changes to the RNA,
the plants becoming something else,
immunevolution modify man’s health.
And never will they accept the blame,
for their arrogance and dangerous game;
and when the food cannot be eaten?



History recall of the viral cretins.
The evolutionary end of humanity is the recombination of animal and plant DNA.
Dead Rose One Nov 2017
<>

No, He said.

I want you
wanting.

I want to taste the miracle of your desperation,
need,
lick the sweet sweat of tense from the hairline well hid
on the back of your pleasuring neck.

I need your needing constant completion,
but not succeeding.

The airborne aroma of your desires are fiery, arousing,
stimulus sensating me by the unending beauty of dissatisfaction,
this virus desirous, infection, makes my perpetual wanting  
for an incomplete perfect woman,
forever seeking betterment,
perfectly complete.


<>
11-15-17 11:51pm
mixed up emotions re this one; who is the striver, who is selfless   and/or selfish;  can be understood in many different ways
Tommy Randell Sep 2017
I've caught the virus,
the virus of You
Your DNA has become mine too
And like viruses do
Through all of history
I've become a carrier
Of your elegant mystery

My symptoms are smiling
And being distracted
A little naïve and overly romantic
The world knows I've got you
And I'm contagious
In every poem I breathe
Over hundreds of pages ...

It was a one time thing
In a room of silence
A point in time that is now time-less
A nervous smile
A single tap of your foot
Being there as you played
Was all it took.
Sally G** is an immensely talented Flute Player from Sheffield, England. Falling in love with her was as simple as this poem suggests and as long lasting - I was in a pub over 25 years ago participating in a Trad Irish tunes session ... and she played.
Thera Lance Apr 28
She's known her for only a few weeks,
Maybe a month, it's sort of a blur
That should drip down her cheeks,
But only smears her vision instead
As she blinks away the disappointment that
Must be all she feels.
Because she knows better than
To get attached when
Everyone she meets on the street is sick,
Hacking up their life in little red drops that
Count down the weeks until
It's only her walking the streets because she can't get sick and
Die like everyone else and
Why her alone and not that girl too?

They were both young and gasping so, so clearly
When they ran up the stairs with groceries,
Which had been left to rot with their owner in the backroom.
They were both fit in fancy dresses from empty stores
And laced-up boots that fast-food jobs wouldn't buy but the end of the world could.
She was fine, vintage comic book in hand,
Golden ribbons trailing from her hair as she giggled
And their shoulders shook, bumping against each other
As laughter unfurled in the air.

It isn't fair,
Because she'll be fine,
One of those lucky survivors who'll
Always walk into a quiet apartment on her own.
I found my soul at 300 baud
in a world the world would one day come to adore
before there were webs
we were the spiders
before there were laws
nothing could be denied to us
we were wardialling before cybercrime
we were a virus before virii became a fake news byline
but if busted I'll deny I ever tried to
break a trunk through MCI jamaica
sat on ******* station for days
raking in creds like a madmuhfuhn rap master
with nothing greater than a pair of headphones
and a cheap cassette tape deck to take me there
kids today dont respect what they play with
back in the day we had to be outlaws
to connect to todays day to day bandwidth
.:MaG:. (Lo0Ns/A((e55)
Rose Aug 2018
3 may 17

sincerely hoping to tear this page out.

i promised myself i would never write about you because i know that once this pen grazes paper, the thought of you will be permanently engraved somewhere, and although not physically, but mentally and emotionally in the depths of my brain, figuratively.
my outlets these days are quite scarce. i tore out my sheets and tried to erase the thought of you, of our intimacy. but what i've ceased to comprehend is that it's not that simple. i can change my sheets, remove my posters, switch my nightlight, remodel my whole room, but, that doesn't change it. change the fact that you still consume my thoughts like a virus, spread throughout my body, filling my core to the brim with inadequacy.
i love you, i hate you.
it is a constant cycle of indecisiveness that floods me with feelings of deep desire, love, and infatuation, to the less constant but still present, feelings of rage, anger, pain, and resentment projected towards you.
i can't wait until the day.
the day when you are either out of my life for good...
or
prove to me that love still exists.
-v.la
Ivan Brooks Sr Jul 2018
Love is a blind *****
And a wicked witch.
She's like a bill collector
And a heartbreaker.

Love is a light
Sometimes she's bright,
Sometimes she's dangerous
And very mysterious.

Love is contentious
Like a strange virus,
She kills at times
At times, she saves.

What's this phenomenon
That moves like the moon?
Love eludes some people
And for her, some will struggle.

To some, she's a white dove
Sent for them from above.
To those not lucky like us,
Love is just like a bad curse.

Love is the bedrock of life
Yet she hurts like a knife.
To few, she works like a lawn mower
And too few she's a lawn blower.

Love to some is like a quick shower
In no time it's all over.
The mystery of love
Is the tale of the black dove.

Love's seed was planted in Heaven
And blossomed in the garden of Eden
A long time ago on this earth,
It was the caveat for Romeo's death.

#IvanBrooksPoetry©
7/22/2018
Love is a long story.
Sally A Bayan Jul 2018
The sight of rain,
of wet clothes, wet plants,
wet doorsteps, wet hopes and dreams,
and, that known scent of sadness and grief
all these...create soggy, sluggish minds

we just lost two dogs to the virus
the glum of monsoon rains affects the moods
the "yays" from cancelled classes
have all passed...
sun is shining, not too bright, though,
peeps like a tease, but,
enough to dry the ground...

i see vacant lots...almost naked now
motor's droning hum is a lullaby
that lulls the mind
a strong smell stirs the nostrils and
defines a welcome pleasance...
i sniff....and chase away sadness,
with this intriguing scent
.....of freshly cut grass....


Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    July 25, 2018
Classy J Oct 2018
Sentenced to the hygienist, because I got that Indian virus.
Wish I was more like Leonidas, for my warrior self was vanquished.
Got a sense of anguish, as I don’t even know my own people’s Language.
Why did I get banished from my own land, and these immigrants now hold thee advantage?
Feels like they on a witch hunt, ain’t life a ***** huh?  
Can’t even make a quick buck, because I’m seen as a stupid ****.
Feel like a sitting duck with the ****** locked, **** is this the feeling of a cuck?
Stories always end up sad but Afterall I’m just the ******* of the brady bunch!
Brown skin cursed kin and a desperate sin so I gotta eat outta garbage’s for lunch.
Trying not to use victimization as a crutch,
but it’s like I’m a kid who got tricked into a game of double Dutch.
Crazy braided brain, deranged rabid rabbit spewing train going down a road of pain.
Come on yawl don’t you want to see the freak from cirque de soleil?
Trying in vain to wash away my shame, but the colour of my skin just won’t go away, oh what a shame!
So, I’m left crying and thinking about dying, hoping to be anything…
that may stray away from my family name.
For I’ve realized that I’m stigmatized by the whitened eyes:
that be educating lies of me being the one to blame.

No more will I be ok with this forced recital!
No more will I sit idle!
No more patriarchy, and **** the curse of ham nonsense used to justify you being spiteful!
**** your racist sentiments man, my colour doesn’t make me homicidal.

Brown clown, Down syndrome gnome!
Torn men, torn women left in prison zones!
Burn them, **** them, **** them right in they home!
Don’t frown, don’t make a sound, just stay on the ground.
Hands behind heads, then shot with lead, like a dog from the pound!
Lost and never found, but this just the curse of being brown!
What’s this now?
Nothing but wards of the crown.
Just a *****, just a glitch, that live in some crack towns!
Or reserves doesn’t matter what the word
Or what the place is when one puts on war paint on top of their savage faces.
Here’s the thing *****, I’m not scared of staring ya down #okacrisis!
For as see it colonists are no different than isis.
I know we deal with vices,
But it’s just the effects of dealing with your hepatitis!
And I just might be bias,
But at least I’m not a delusional racist!
It doesn’t matter if it’s Past, present or future violence,
I think it’s about time to end the silence!
Mohamed Nasir Aug 2018
O, mosquito for taste of blood you seek,
For miles and miles you fly, within radius,
To earn a warm and idle skin to *****;
By day in cravice dark by night with us.
O, mosquito you small but deadly thief;
On wings of silence came you trespasser,
A drop of blood you've stolen whilst to leave
Me unawares that I'm being the loser.
Alas, you left behind a virus strange,
Of potent evil concoction which spread,
And corrupted my veins by this exchange:
My good liquid for diseases I dread.
Like being bitten by a winged vampire,
My body shaking my soul is on fire!
Mosquitoes can carry a host of deadly diseases.
In 2002, I had contracted dengue fever from an aedies mosquito that landed me in hospital for two weeks. I was ravaged with fever. My blood palates was going lower and lower. My body ached and weakened and my thoughts was I'm going to die. Malaria is another disease, mostly in the tropics, transmitted by mosquitoes.
Donna Apr 14
Silly blocked up nose
Stupid irratating cough
Float far away please
My daughter my son and now me have this awful virus and I’m totally feeling sorry for myself x
Solaces Feb 2017
Do you remember anything?  
" I told them I didn't, But I remember it all.  It was darkness..  A sort of darkness that for a moment I thought no light could shine in it..  I was numb all over.  At first I thought I was dead.  I started to ask myself, (Is this what its like to be dead) but then slowly the feeling would creep back into my limbs..  I then heard three different sets of voices.  They scared me to no end because what ever they were they seem to be communicating with eachother. Their voices sounded like hisses mixed in with strange deep tones from an *****. Thats the best I can explain.   I started to feel pressure in my hands and feet.  Then in my chest and stomach..  After that I felt cold and hot, then hot then cold..  Next was the crawling feeling all over my body..  It felt like large cockroaches were running all over my body.  Then came the sounds. From my left side then my right.  Then both sides, and then all around me..  I knew I was being tested on by something..  The last thing I saw was a door of light. It hurt my eyes so bad.. I then saw three silhouettes standing in the light.. After that I awoke here in the woods.. It seem like it was a dream.. But my soreness in my body told me it wasn't!
----------------------------------------------------------------­-------------------------------
Vialarkeris:  Data Human Lifeform"""Project Helix heal""""
Male human :  W.B.C. EXTRACTION..
Our planet is being ravaged by an acute viral nasopharyngitis.. We have no way to stop it.  Millions have died. No cure can be found.. That is until today. History has been made in the most wonderful way possible.. We infected a male human lifeform with the virus and found that his body (although super feeble) was able to fight of the infection. It took a matter of only 2 days for his body to fully purge out the virus.. We were able to narrow down a cell within the human known as a white blood cell (W.B.C.) which could counter the virus and purge it out of the body. Although feeble the humans have a much better immune system than we do.  The human was returned near his home and saw it all as a dream.  Little did he know that he saved an entire advanced civilization with just a veil of his blood..
Bigger picture..
Carter Ginter Jun 2018
Sadness pours from my lungs
As I dream of inhaling smoke
I want it to choke me out
To spill what's left of my soul
My heart still beats on
But it hurts in my chest
Spreading this virus of lost love
Throughout my entire being
It moves only slowly though
As my heart knows you're gone
My arms still crave your touch
My brain understands the most
And it condemns the pieces of me
That still hold onto your memory
Yours? Ours? Mine?
Who's memory is it?
I guess they're all different
I don't know if you really loved me
I suppose that's what hurts the most
But I loved you unconditionally
Even when I hated you too
I'm not sure if you felt the same
But it's something I'll come to terms with
Just like the fact that I feel sad
And I don't think you're worth that
Language is a virus ,
I'm already sick .

Let heart's Converse,
Feel the sentimental kick .

© Mrunalini.D.Nimbalkar
Here's my Trevia "The pen became finer in the course of time, so I scribed  a very small stanza,

Just# another #scribe .#Quatrian#alternate rhyme#ABAB scheme#language of# love #no# bars#05.05.2019
A Sad Alex Aug 2018
No poison as venomous
Nor insidious a rouge
No piercing an arrow
Can compare to love

A disease like no other
Like no virus or spore
It rides the breezes of Autumn
With the leaves as they fall

In the laughter of lovers
As they gaze into their eyes
Their company they cherish
As the world, it turns blank

Such subterfuge is legend
As warning you it does not
And in chains of steel unbreaking
Your heart will be wrought

Your walls will crumble
Your discipline, for naught
You crave their happiness
And then you are lost...
as it tears you asunder
and rips you apart from within

Oh, such a malady has no cure!
You can only give in...

When will you arrive my love?
Please, come to me
Cool this fever of passion
This fire that rages within
Swiftly my darling!
Life from my fingers it slips
I can´t bear to see them smiling...
In sadness I wallow in...
yet, maybe this is what I deserve
For turning my back on my heart
The pain, the agony, it feels...
like the cut of a thousand knives...
He slowly assembles his rifle on the barren rooftop as the
     wind blows through his light blond hair.
His long overcoat ***** and wraps around his thin long
    legs.
He places his elbows upon the short wall in front of him,
     firmly kneeling on both knees.
Glancing into the rifle's sight, he focuses sharply through
     its cross hairs; he sees hundreds passing through the sight,
     men, women, children, and as he sees it, a maze
     of mass hysteria.
He thinks of his current desperate situation and with each
     passing thought, his heart pumps more hateful
     adrenaline through his expanding veins.
What am I?....He wonders.
"I am the orphan child too **** to adopt!
I am the spit in the street you step in and curse!
I am the cockroach so many crush beneath their feet!
I wish to love and beloved, for I am ever so lonely,
     so empty.
I wish to give my whole self to someone to make them
     eternally happy!
To sacrifice all I possess, including my life, for the one
     I love,
but I am thoughtlessly branded a stalker!
I am the void in all broken hearts.
As a child, I only wished to be loved and appreciated,
but I was raised the invisible child.
There's a painful sore in my throbbing brain, the lethal
     virus of society'd disdain.
I'm insane!....I'm insane!...Give me peace, God if you exist
     Give me peace!
He glances once again through the sight's cross hairs,
catching sight of a young boy standing alone, mouth wide open
    with tears rolling down his cheeks.
He pauses.....envisioning himself, his blue eyes cloud
     with tears.
He pulls back back his loaded rifle placing it against the
     short wall,
realizing at the moment this wasn't the way to end his
     unbearable pain.
Reaching into his deep overcoat's pocket, his long fingers
     catch grasp of the cool surface of a 9 mm.
Pulling it slowly from his pocket, he raises it to his temple,
slipping his finger upon its tight trigger he whispers once
     again,
"God....if you exist,
Give me peace."
To explain this piece, I wrote it over 15 years ago. I was a child who was nearly beaten to death twice by the age of 5 years old. One thing I do remember was at the times I was being beaten, it was almost like I was observing it from outside my body. When I started school I was a skinny, poor, cross eyed kid who went from one beaten to another. I once wrote, that I was like Daniel walking into the lion's den, the kids hopped about me like kangaroos with wolves teeth, punching me, spitting on me, continuously mocking me. I became just a shell of a child and sadly hated myself like all others. Took me years to heal I was quiet, introvert, who couldn't even find a date; but with time, I grew stronger, for I had family that reached out and showed me I was more than a rag doll to to be tossed around. People, called me a saint and a great guy! But in the final summation, it was the bitterness of an unforgiven world and it's cruelty that made me a tortured soul, etched thoughts that bled into my wounded soul. I grew to love my father and I grew to see the good in people. I harbored physical and emotional scars that amazingly never weighed me down and when people spoke of the cruelty I suffered, it was a hind thought. It became someone else, not me. But realize that all people are molded with each day of their lives and that mold can always be molded to be destructive! Faith and openness are great healing tools, for confidence and soul.
rebecca Sep 2018
i've caught feelings like viruses
but i know you're immune
when i ran into you today
in a rush
in a daze
it made me sicker
redder
bitter
but a smile still hinted at the edges of my lips
and that's why i hate being sick
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