Best Beakers Poems

Slow motion memories.
Street lit like a movie set,
outside the dance hall.
Muffler-less cars,
full throttle, then eerily quiet.
Self willed machines idling along the street,
flooding the night; flashing eyeballs,
headlining teenage girls.
A sashaying crush; glancing, giggling,
disdainful in stinging beehives,
plastic jackets, high gloss paint and oily pants.

Cruising crass flash
false virility...

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11/30/16


That girl is an over achiever
And avid reader

That girl is a real brainteaser
Yet a true pleaser

That girl had a golden retriever
And a house with multiple bird feeders

That girl yeah she's a high speeder
The music always coming out loud from the speaker

That girl follows her own...

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Even though I read tribute poems at your memorial service I still
Can’t believe that you both died aged just 19 and 20.
Staring me in the face when I open my cupboard are the plastic beakers
That you and your brother drank from when you played at...

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Beakers ready, gentlemen,
titration calibrated to the critical degree;
unveil the poetry distilled
until reagents strike at all the barriers
that we erect in love, in agony,
in little niches, shadowy within  the walls
along the course to home.

The night is warm and lovely,
radiance too harsh for summer's mists;
encomium may...

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Wearing thick glasses
and braces on her buck teeth,
Professor Harriet carried
her pile of books while accidentally 
stepping into the wet cement,
going into her lab to go wash up,
afterwards she decided to work 
on a different kind of experiment,
tired of feeling nutty, mousey,
klutzy and insecure,
she whipped up...

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In our house divided
Serpent swallows its own tail
Hiding under eaves from caustic rainfall
Slithers from relentless hail

The herald’s horn blows empty
Bannerless with rusted brass
As a pathway twists to nowhere
Sunken boneway through dry grass

All the bluff and bluster’d daytime
Shivers in the nighttime’s chill
Hidden faces in the shadows
Perching...

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Love can be amazing or it can be hell,
But it's not always easy to tell.
Some are afraid to find it or even say it,
I can understand how we feel "its complicated"
If you know it to be true that they love you,
Then no need to worry...

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Flasks and drums
Vases and urns
Barrels for holding pickles

Bowls and cups
Pots and pans
Piggy banks for nickles

Beakers, pitchers
Bottles for milk
Mere vessels for the rookies!

For no container
In the world
Can beat my jar of cookies!...

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Opulence is not flatulence especially in a house. And onion peel is very useful for persuading a plant to float in a prism. It is often great to watch a pea boat sail past. Rather remarkable it is. Round swirling orb. The balancing of a...

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A seam in a sock is a whistling clock. Wheelbarrow hours like a treading of grapes for wine. But swamped with the rest of the waters, teas, coffees and creams can bring a mingle of music to a break. But breaks are not breaking nor...

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There's truth in
Spontaneous generation
I've been there
Seen it
Observed the formation
It can't be disproved
Discounted
Diluted
It is creation
It is born instantly
Not from clay or cells
It's not like that
For this
There is no host
No Petri dish
But ourselves
And it's not slow
It doesn't grow
It explodes
Replicating
Overtaking
Cell upon cell
Completely filling
That's the beauty
In this theory
Nearly everyone...

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Intentions and innermost desires from minds sparkle in your eyes
Surface simulations and aberrations fly off sugar-coated tongues
Where cavalcades of pesky pies and their ties to lies
Assail love clung, flung, hung, slung, strung, stung in beakers with bungs

So tight room to maneuver shrinks
In the wake of...

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Not much about Goldilocks is really well known,
Except she liked to hang out in the woods all alone.
Of other customs and habits we have just a splintering:
She was whiney, persnickety,
And obviously skillful at breaking and entering.
No deadbolt or burglar alarm could defy her.
A common criminal,...

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When I was born
the light was in other people’s eyes.
warm hands coddled
spills of milky mew-shaped thirsts
dabbed at my whiteboard mind.

I began to wink the world into shapes;
as a new Loosely fleshed presence
I turned listless in the blood-warm bud.

Early things showed up to crowd my eyes,
back-lit...

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We met over beakers
In the back of the class
Both knowledge seekers
Young scientists

Looking for answers
To the stars and beyond
My sweet little Alchemist
Has it going on

Mixing solutions
With the solutions she finds
Answering questions
To where mystery's do hide

Her scientific equations
How could I ever miss
That smooth chemical sensation
From my sweet...

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