Best Celled Poems
Life is a smile of a newborn in mother's arms
Arts and crafts of stained glass from grains of sand
Freedom of a chick on its very first flight
Love of a mother scurrying beside a young fawn
Float on a lotus pond in style of white swans
Lyrics of nature scripted in nightingale's song
Painting in vermilion tints rising on meadows of fall
Rivers rushing down from spring mountaintops
Romance in lover's eyes watching a new dawn
Wonder in breath of a single-celled amoeba
September 14, 2019
HM: Strand special 5 by Brian Strand
Life poetry contest; Sponsor: Ironic Zink
IT'S SAID A FEW HUNDRED MILLION YEARS AGO
I WAS LIVING IN THE SEA
I HAD NO LEGS TO WALK
I COULDN'T EVEN TALK
I WAS JUST A SEA ANEMONE
A SINGLE CELLED CRITTER IN THE PRIMAL STEW
DIDN'T SEEM TO BE GETTING ANYWHERE
BUT THEN SOMETHING HAPPENED
I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT WAS
BUT IT MADE ME COME UP FOR AIR
I MUST HAVE LOST MY TAIL BETWEEN THE SEA AND THE SHORE
AND I FINALLY LEARNED TO WALK ERECT
I GUESS YOU COULD SAY I'VE COME A LONG WAY
TO GET A LITTLE COSMIC RESPECT
SOME MIGHT EVEN SAY I AM CIVILIZED
BY THE WAY THAT I KNEEL TO PRAY
BUT WHAT'S IMAGINATION IF IT ISN'T INSPIRATION
IS THAT HOW I GOT HERE TODAY
THERE'S A THOUSAND DIFFERENT TALES OF CREATION
HOW DO YOU KNOW WHICH ONE TO BELIEVE
SCIENCE TEACHES EVOLUTION
RELIGION TEACHES ADAM AND EVE
I DON'T CARE IF THE WORLD IS ON A TURTLE'S BACK
OR A SUPER DUDE SAID LET THERE BE LIGHT
THERE IS SOMETHING HAPPENING, SYNAPS ARE SNAPPING
SO I'D LIKE TO GET MY FACTS JUST RIGHT
GODS SO PROLIFIC YOU GOT TO BE SPECIFIC
WHO'S GONNA HEAR YOU PRAY
JESUS OR JUDAH, MOHAMMED OR BUDHA
WHO ANSWERS PRAYERS TODAY
I DON'T BELIEVE THE BIG BANG THEORY
IS HOW I LEARNED TO PROCREATE
AND I THINK IT'S KINDA FUNKY
IF ADAM WAS A MONKEY
OR IT WAS SOMETHING EVE ATE
WHILE CHILLING IN THE GARDEN OF EDEN
SOME OLD SNAKE SAID STEP INTO THE LIGHT
IF YOU WANT TO HAVE A LIFE YOU GOTTA BE A WIFE
SO HAVE ADAM TAKE A BITE
OH WHAT A STINKER, HOOK LINE AND SINKER
ADAM REALLY SWALLOWED EVE'S BAIT
HOW WAS HE TO KNOW THAT SHE WAS JUST TROLLING
PIMPING FOR A SNAKE
NOW HE'S GOT HER DEEP INSIDE AND HE CAN'T GET AWAY
SHE REELS HIM AND WATCHES HIM PLAY
THE BETTER THEY LOOK, THE DEEPER THE HOOK
MEN WILL NEVER EVER GET AWAY
HAS IT BEEN THAT WAY FOREVER
BY A GOD THAT IS SO CLEVER
IN A GARDEN'S PERFECT WEATHER
IT'S A LOVELY ENDEAVOR
I DON'T MIND IF I DON'T GET AWAY
BUT I'D LIKE TO KNOW TO WHOM I PRAY
Arid, barren, desolate
skeletons strewn carelessly
jarring parched landscapes
Tucked away under rocks and boulders
one-celled creatures huddle
motionless, gasping, wheezing
Noonday sun blisters
methane-enveloped tropics
the poles whistle as well
Oceans bubble, foam, boil
water sizzling, spitting lava
lifeless depths of charcoal ash
Far, far to the south in
Antarctica's heart, a creature's hand
stretches out from the deathly mixture
~ clutches at hell's horizon
May 30, 2018
In 100 Years Poetry Contest
We have gen X, Y and Z
But what of A, B and C
Discounting the one celled amoeba
And Darwin
Perhaps Gen A was
Adam
Alone in the garden
With Eve
Gen B
Working on
Gen C
The rest are lost
Amid Cain and Abel
Noah
The Arc
And a lot of
the “begots”
And “begettin”
That has led
To the aforementioned
Gen X, Y and Z
I watched her
dropping the phone,
in nano movements
My heart stomped
out, the harshness
of a dial tone
And from endless
holes, these little eyes
scrunched with sadness
I suppose, I didn't know
what it meant to die
or why the tears
stuck to me
Sickle celled with
every memory,
around the lobes
of my being
Where I could
still hear you laugh,
the breaths of air
Grew arms
-- and comforted me.
Assassin’s Heart
freedom
came at a cost
Humpty was
soft serve as he fell
kicked out from
assassin’s heart
into a dark world
mortal possessions removed
he grasped for brevity
he wasn't single celled
into a conflicted space
falling was as easy as hell
landing took
its eternal time
the business inside
contracted, custody,
waking deep
from a hidden dream
soul forming
oh, the complexity
LOVE,
is never free
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
VANISHED
We are the echoing voices crying within the darkness,
Melting mists of vapor co-existing amongst the living,
The ambling drifters shifting between reality and limbo,
The vanished.
Displacement malfunction, the frozen chill in one’s space,
Happening without explanation, the corporal spirit sliding
In the temporal rift as if a doorway has opened then closes
With sudden forces slamming,
The vanished.
Running at full sails speed the ghostly ship hanging on the
Distant horizons cresting wave, the Bermuda Triangles curious
Answer, never revealed, a planes broadcasting its S.O.S. then
Nothing except statics silence, the walkers of historical significance,
Never heard from again except in dusty monologue’s ancient text,
The vanished.
Rebukes despised disposed by hatred lies of malice, the forgotten,
Yet we touch the living by the night’s lunar light, angers tortured
Languishing amidst the flames of hell’s fire, crying out for justice
But receiving only torment, silences footsteps heard amongst the
The land of the living,
The vanished.
Sacrifice’s vanished foe, given to the idle gods of the past,
Manipulations fallen solider who gave his life for what
He believed was a justified cause, the lost soul of the
Innocent that does not realize he lies in the kingdom
Of the diseased,
The vanished.
The crumbling ruined city, with its lingering residences,
Still haunting the abandon streets and venues of the past,
Do to tragedies misguidance, or alliances bomb shelled fortress
Torn apart and left to molten ash, these shadows of innocence
Remain, behold
The vanished.
The dead man’s sleep walker, emerging from his cryptic
Tomb, suddenly realizing it’s survived the end of the world,
But now he’s all alone, in isolations one celled chamber,
As the human ash cloud descends upon the last ma
On earth falls to his knees and screams out loud, why,
Dear God, why
The vanished.
Listen to the voices carried upon the wind,
It is the vanquished seeking answers without
Replies response, the weeping victims of time
Bang against our shutters windows, and knock
At the front doors of our souls, they will not
Be ignored,
Those vanished.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
I was born of a singularity –
A 14 billion year-old silent explosion,
Minuscule yet massive;
Unimaginably dense
I somehow expanded –
An infinite void,
Spawning colorful clouds
Of cosmic gas and dust
I was trillions of blinding stars
Collapsing and exploding,
Raining elemental sparks
Across the great expanse
I suddenly became stable,
Pressed by invisible forces;
Molten from trembling plates;
Cooled and carved by moving ice
I was synthesized in the oceans –
A hopeful spiraling helix,
Single celled and brainless,
Growing ever more complex
I was a bipedal stranger,
Learning of tools and fire;
I hunted and fished the earth,
Uttering the first of human sounds
I am the universe in deep contemplation;
I am consciousness sprung from the inanimate;
I am carbon-based collection of stardust,
United with myself in the vastness of space.
I've pass through the doors of life not knowing
Crept to, I took the steps in front of me -
And stopped
Still not knowing what I was born to, and the surprises that wait around the corner
Naked and tender to the real world
Enter adulthood, it comes and with it many paths all in different directions
So I choose a path
With each destiny I've experienced-
The agony and bliss of love, the burning pain and rejection from hate,
The sky dancing joy of childbirth, and the death of a loved one, I took a step and fell
I fell hard I was covered in an atrocious blunder of self-pity
I felt narrow-
But I stood up again and wiped off my wounds
I cried the words only onto deaf ears
No one hears a sound not a sound, “why I cried”
The salty tears warm streamed out drenching the side of my face
This place I call home the stranger in me now knows
Though I share with you I am but a single celled unit alone in this place
Facing the unfinished tomorrows and yesterdays
My back is withered as a sun drenched driftwood
And so I carry the heaviness and parched stories around
Lessons you say, such lessons I have felt in the abysmal of my soul
Live them until I grow old, until I grow old
I have tasted the diseased minds a thousand times yet I crave more
It feels safe and familiar all wrapped up in the pull of heart strings’
I hear the pack of wolves at my door step now-
Their breath is fiery hot and hungry
I face the changes that await me scared and trembling like a child
It's only with the strength of my devoted husband that I haven't withered away
A man complex in his own right , but with the strength of a fleet of many men
I know what the moon says
As I stand in its light
Holding me close
I Am An Alien
I am an alien to this world
Born of atoms created billions of years ago
Atoms which drifted through time
Across millions of light years of space
Not connecting until they came upon a blue green planet
Random events brought them together
Giving them the breath of life
The freedom to exist together yet on their own
Combining into chains and molecules
Until two one celled inhabitants of human bodies combined
That random event mixed just perfectly
And that spark of life once again ignited
I was born not long after
A member of the human species
Still an alien whose life began in the darkness of space
In the millionth of a second when nothing became everything
And I was created.
I feign disinterest
Because to appear too interested
Might cause unrest in you
Who claims he too is tired
Of the loneliness that comes from
Being alone yet you want to remain
Single, unfettered and untethered
And so enforce the 72 hour hold. . .
What is that about anyway?
You ask for my number and give
Me yours but don’t call before
The end of day three because
It might appear that you are
Lonely or heaven forbid—desperate
And so we’re back to the beginning
Feigning disinterest and remain in
Our cells lonely or alone
We humans like all creatures to have a purpose, an aim,
From one-celled amoebas to fungi-spore glebas,
They need a good reason to compete in life's game.
Consider cats: They school us in hygiene
Licking their paws and their fur shiny clean.
And how 'bout tiny ants, who teach us industry,
Or lions and their bravery--and foxes with their knavery?
But what reason have seahorses to be in the sea?
What can they teach us? How can they enlighten you or me?
Can they sing or dance? Can they 'cut a rug' in the water?
And if they can't, do you really think they should ought to?
Well, please know that things aren't quite what they seem.
Seahorses are special, unique, and highly esteemed;
In the eye of the sea, they're jewels, all sparkle and gleam.
See the distinctive manner wherewith these fish swim:
Upright! propelling themselves ever higher via dorsal fins.
Then there's the spectacle of seahorse sex and mating--
No other males on the planet hold the eggs while waiting
To release them of a sudden by the thousands at a time,
And then go back at it with their 'exes' on the turn of a dime.
All this leads up to how traditional Chinese physicians
Prescribe 'seahorses' for whatever their patients get sick in:
Everything from wheezing and pain to inducing labor,
With TCM's** practitioners, these fish are ever in favor.
It's clear, my fellow humans,
From Peking to Paris and on to Toulouse,
Seahorses can certainly be put to very good use...
*****
...Prompting this little 'caboose:'
Let US ask this question: Is human activity equally productive?
---Or do WE choose to engage in things far more destructive?
April 19, 2018
**TCM = Traditional Chinese Medicine
When the Earth was young,
fire dominated the hellish land,
flowing like blood in veins giving
life to the rocky planet.
It glowed like molten rock within
a furnace ready to be moulded into
the continents that float like ducks
on water regardless of constant motion.
The land was bare and resembled what
most would consider hell but still
it was darkly beautiful in its own self.
Millennia passed with no trace of life
until that all faithful day when the
Earth was bombarded by rocky meteorites
and frozen comets.
These titans of nature brought Earth’s
most precious gift transforming the
bare land in to a world of new-born
oceans.
A never ending rain-storm begun causing
the oceans to grow like an embryo in
a mother’s womb.
Sadly the air was poisonous and the
sky red, like a never ending sunset;
life took no hold of the empty
and barren land.
Time passed slowly and the oceans
begun to fill with the smallest
of creatures, too small to be
seen with the naked eye.
Slowly the air begun to change
and the way to evolution began,
giving rise to adaption and
abilities never seen before on
the barren land.
Single-celled creatures became
multi-celled giving rise to what
is considered the life force of
us all – DNA.
Time passed slowly but life
exploited the barren land
filling it with the most
peculiar of creations.
The Earth became a box of
chocolates for whichever way
one looked nothing was the same.
The Earth’s precious gift is life
but without the aid of nature’s
titans life itself would have
never begun in such a fiery
furnace – glowing then yet dark.
As the days draw out I spy a human-heron trying his patience and mine,
trying to persuade the wind by genuflecting before it on this sunny quite
late afternoon to lift this bird-man to be converted between the rugby posts
to get two points for the union code as if it a ritual or a qualification for this
bi-cameral being to float over this fen on the edge of their and our England.
A whisper of cloud is the only object to adorn or besmirch the winter blue
sky as it cops out of converting between the post, teases the reddish tall
trees and salutes the sunset on a horizon that it is said by foreigners from
elsewhere in England go mad as though adrift in a a of land that mimics
the North Sea horizon as two streaks of sunlight cross behind them in
warning at this creatures presumption as the human-heron stretches his
wide wings and lands in the inimitable determined and ungainly manner.
The next few days are not my mobile's as we are being celled by dirty
gloomy, cloudy, cold, snow flaked weather; weather that in Britain only
exists so that family, friends, neighbours, and strangers from near and
far can have something not too controversial to talk, moan about, and to
indulge in that pleasant pastime of agreeing that if the weather is good
to the human-heron and us we will have to pay for it even if it is only the
wrong choice wearing clothes over our human or human- heron selves.
The things which make my blood rise
surge and boil, bringing a witches cauldron’s
of hell fire, to the for…are not the natural things like sunrise
or the beauty of a pasture green, or golden
No, for me it is all, the daily injustices that men promote
as women implore…
Beauty soothes my heart and calms my ragged breath.
But, a man who thinks he’s better than another
bringing his ‘truth’ to bear, with the force of power,
stepping on the crowns of those, seen as lesser,
now that…causes blood to pink the whites of my eyes
as a woman, I explore..
In a universal culture where men hold sway
with swaggering strides and violent threats,
the smaller, finer, delicate things like diatoms*
in water are crushed, destroyed, forgotten, in the roil*
of war…
Man who must focus worship on themselves
denying the wet, warm, womb of the Mother,
men who mouth protection, as the reason for their gore,
men who would have more than their fair share
and tout* dominion* as their just deserts*…
men such as these..these men, encourage war..
and return to us our dead children
wrapped in the flags of nationalism..
for with the self granted pride of man
they bring war..
Bring us back to the days before,
before we saw ourselves as separate
to the interlocked and laced days,
when each form was blessed.
Let my heart ease, let my blood calm,
take the taint of pride from me and mankind
and let each and everyone see the value
of peace through unity..
*untoward / causing misfortune *diatoms/ one-celled alga *roil /make somebody angry
*tout / praise somebody or something *dominion / ruling control
*deserts / something somebody deserves