Best Mitosis Poems


Laughing Lunatics Lounge

Within my psychedelic psychosis divided by hell’s malignant mitosis,
Navigated by narcotized neurosis absorption through opiate osmosis…
Within my lunatic leverage of will, I needed to miraculously madly mill,
The negligent neurons of my ill amidst a faltering fragment of my spill.

My eyes that bear the bevel upon derelict distortions of a devious devil,
Laboring the leprous level of the seismic seizures that I neatly nestle…
In the abyss of my lacrimal laugh, I stand segmental with my satirical staff,
Decorative deceptions on my behalf as I stare at the world a genuine gaffe.

No real resolution to ponder for the quicksand of mind quivers yonder,
A sinkhole of a weeping wander amongst sacrifices of a slaving squander…
Thus in my sanctimonious seclusion within my catacombs of confusion,
The universe disperses diffusion along with programmatic parallel illusion.






June.06.2019
Eight Word Challenge 
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann


Placed 5'th...Thank You

Fire Born

In fire are we born,
 children of the wind, the rain, 
the raging storm.

In dreams do we succumb
 to the wane of reason
as it becomes undone.

In thunder rumble, growls, snarls ferocious
 with the lightning flash that follows
 do we live and die in the soul's mitosis.

In the midnight flight
 do we escape the torrent
of the fire burn delight
© DM Babbit  Create an image from this poem.

A Pair of Fives

Hormones make the Endocrine System work 
They’re always around, they always lurk. 
And they do so many things
And to the body the blood always brings
So many chemicals all over abound
Each only binds to specific receptors found.
Sometimes they’re high, sometimes they’re low 
And hormones always absolutely go 
Via the blood until it finds, 
Its special receptor, where it binds. 
And no matter what you think you knew
There’s only five things they generally do.

Membrane potential, a hormone can alter, 
And so a cell’s function will never falter.
When they alter membrane potentials we know
And that always means information will flow.

Protein synthesis, too, gets involved 
And making large molecules soon gets resolved. 
They can cause proteins synthesis in the cell
By turning on genes that work so well.

Enzyme modifications are also the norms
They can activate second messenger forms.
And when it does, it can certainly cause, 
Enzyme activity or enzyme pause. 

Secretions, too, the cell will spit out, 
Due to the hormone, because of its clout. 
And what is the importance of what the hormones’ issues
These cells spew out substances to affect other tissues.

Then there’s the last, reproductive in nature
Mitosis and meiosis, both important in stature.
Both types of cell division are obviously affected, 
Another example of hormones, reflected.
© LR Waldman  Create an image from this poem.


Biology

Biology! Biology! How many times have I called you?
You frighten me every time I hear your name,
Because I can’t withstand your lies and pain you cause me,
You lack conscience since you introduced unknown world to me,
You gave heartburns and caused veins to deflate in me,
Biology! Biology! Who invented you?		

Biology! Biology who told you to exist?
You only care about yourself and not anyone,
You talk of reproduction without caring for everyone,
You have no knowledge how loneliness pains me,
But you still insist two together increases happiness in me,
Biology! Biology! Was it important for you to exist?

Biology! Biology! I don’t know if you have sympathy,
You say I am black, he is white and the other is brownly,
You confuse me since grade 8 with your genetic narratives,
Feeding on my curiosity with blood circulation stories,
But you still insist our blood is reddish although different skins,
Biology! Biology! You should show some empathy.

Biology! Biology! Stop telling me about mitosis and meiosis,
Stop forcing me to cram the interphase and metaphase stages,
Stop creating new viruses, bacteria, fungi, and parasites,
Stop inducing fear in people with health issues and diseases,
Stop talking about centrosomes, chromosomes, cytoplasm, and spindles,
Biology! Biology! Those terms swing in my head and bloat my nerves.

Biology! Biology! I am not done with you but will be back,
To tell you the truth about me since you care about chromatins,
We shall chat about those coils, tight and tense kinetochores,
Get the facts about nuclear membranes and magical sporophytes,
The why(s) of evolution, nomenclature, mammals, birds, and fishes,
The magnificent zygomatic arch, plasma cortisol, and catecholamines,
Because unlike you Biology I care about sperms, ova, and human being’s hormones.

Premium Member Where the Heart Beats

Where The Heart Beats
________________________________(Started)_______by:  Nathan Dilts
Thump budda thump thump
Thump budda thump thump

Can you feel it beating
Faster
Always faster
Shaped just like an aster
The mitosis of an emotion
Where the notion of its motion
Travels up through my spine
Wraps around my mind
 
Thump budda budda thump thump
Thump budda budda thump thump

Can you feel it flowing
Like a diamond
That is glowing
Never knowing
Where it’s going
Always showing
What it’s growing
 _________________________________(Finish)_________by:  P.D.
Thump thump thump thump thumper
Thump thump thump thump thumper

Can you feel it changing
Rapidly emerging 
Losing its curve 
Tightening the nerve
Energy reload
Waves about to explode 
Accepting the negative
Rejecting the positive

Thump budda thump
Thump budda thump
Can you feel it fading
Melting away
Pulsing its rays
Relaxing base
Freezing phase 
Boiling down 
Drumming sound

Thump    Budda     thump 
Can you feel it dying
Losing its shine
Dim neon lite
Weak to krypton nite 
Lost of resistance
Fading existence 
Moments are bleeding
Wakening to his feeding

Thump--- bud..dha ----thuu..mp
Can you feel it dropping
My heart is stopping
My inside are not rotating
My body is the axis
My heart, I'm its universe
Faintly a flash in my chest
Trying to beat again
Crying for a chance
Slower 
pounding slower
Thum p___thuuu_____________  Stop Beating
Can not feel it the beating is gone

~mitosis~

A cream egg melted into chocolate mountains
as I tripped over shattered rainbows,
trying to hide in raindrop spaces,
those places where puzzle trees ponder
the life of meaning.

Inhaling skin, turns outside in
and a womb is deaths sanctuary,
with its cord wrapped about a casual arm,
Dali-like, 

and nobody screams loud enough
to shatter a whisper,
played to empty thoughts
of Siamese twins related by a heart,
waiting on a scalpel divorce.

Fingering the whole of innocence lost,
while childhood rolls like sweat down a thigh,
and the warm wet circle of bullets persuasion
extinguishes the hope of resurrection,
‘til twisted sheets are cleansed again.


Premium Member Aging As a Spiritual Practice

Beautiful summer day. You know you're gonna die
that's why you know no joy.
Obsessed with self, there is no answer
unless religion, tv, stories, sports matter.
So what if nothing rhymes and I don't
bring my life into an expressible state
or fight purposelessness, anomie. No one writes.
Running the gauntlet alone. A good day to die, the Apaches say.

For men like us dying's easy, it's living that's hard.
And since dying's much like living, that's hard too.
There's some contentment in letting community decide
your place in it. We're not talking to you.
Really, it's a perfect day. Every leaf is out
that's coming out. The grass is high
and unidentified yet another year. Being knowledgeable
is the best defense against your insignificance.

Can't stop the quince from blossoming
or my sons from smoking, speeding.
The best that can be done or said's a blessing.
Less tv, less guessing
about the effects of your anger unless
you want to be an angry man forever.
Coming from the funeral with friends,
talking on the telephone. OK about being alone.

Alive, almost sure of it. Whether I'm a visitor
to my life or the actual owner.
Mature poets steal, most are masturbators.
This house could use a good cleaning,
dusting for ghosts. I should subscribe
to the local newspaper, do my job well,
do less until one thing's done well.
What would that be? Old, and yet so young.

There are a million poets, I'm poet #500K.
Plenty of mysteries, infinite philosophies,
prayers, laws and unwritten rules.
That's why we go to school, life's complicated.
All I do not know: ATP, probabilities,
the glorious revolution, meiosis and mitosis
and all I'll never see, the bottom of the ocean,
the palm at the end of the mind, a wolverine.

There are certain indicators, undeniable,
inexorable. Forget-me-not, is that all I want?
To get lucky, you gotta be careful first.
To be great, you gotta be willing to sound BAD.
Although we cannot make the sun stand still
yet will we make him run. Brave revelers.
Signed engagement letter attached.
Attachment to self and to things to do.

Premium Member Oh Pilot Me

RNA or DNA polymerase, an enzyme, protein, attracted to
promoter molecules in the polypeptide chain causing a zipper
motion and transcription of the code, a duplication of codons,
introns and exons, and so it goes, sharing and unsharing electrons.

These attractions and repulsions, coming near and going far
in nanounits or light years, fail to explain things permanently
but make possible the technology to live long and well, with personality.
It is a form of governance, the governance of elements, elements are now

apparently our gods. Learn all you can about their laws, their names,
their needs, read their poems. Only the mentally unusually sound would,
given this knowledge, agree to the process of fertilization and mitosis.
      However,
organisms go round then senseless via involuntary respiration. Therefore,
      Pilot Oh Pilot Me.

A Mind Robber

A Mind Robber


Out of my mind had made a spectacle
Because about everything I was skeptical
And when upside down had been landing
Commanding lead were not understanding.

What was wrong with my awful approach
When on all others it always did encroach
And is reason many are now hysterical
After finding out I am horribly heretical.

Maybe it just might have been mitosis
Combined together causing a meiosis
As result of some resounding synapsis
That probably suffered from many mishapses. 

I am beginning to believe without any doubt
This is what Trump truly is really about
But instead of being a joiner and bright healer
Was presumed seen in Pittsburg being a Steeler.

Ho Ho Jim Horn

Trump is a robber and stealer of people's minds
As well as scalper of their behinds.
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.

I Walked the Walk So You Can Talk the Talk

I am strong for I have walked an empty road of hopelessness. Cancer is the mitosis of good and evil, strength and weakness. I walked the walk and felt the pain. It oppressed me like a large volcano erupting into the atmosphere, spewing debris in my body. One day, a mutation of love morphed into the planet and freed me forever of the agony. I walked the walk, it is for that, I can talk the talk. Thanks be to our God for the recipe it made me strong and free because you made the strides.

Written by: Jeralyn D. Tolliver as a tribute to Shaun Alan King, Chemist and Roderick Alan King, Physicist. Also anyone suffering from this terrible disease and any queen bees working on cures. Also, I have to add, that this poem was inspired by my friend Mary, cancer survivor.

Premium Member Cycle

The cell is undergoing mitosis.
Spindle fibers pull the chromosomes away
toward the poles of two daughter cells.
A black widow spider with an hourglass on its back
doesn’t seem to scare the porcelain doll at the spinning wheel.
The stationary figure shows no emotion
as the sands of time accumulate at the bottom.
The process will soon start all over again.

Short On Telomeres

Each subsequent process of cell division    
i.e. mitosis sans biological parlance 
erodes chromosomal cap re: telomere if u can envision
some juncture senescence prevails – 
apoptosis no chance to prevent natural degradation 
and one alternate decision opting to bail out 
subsequent etching chronological age – 
averse at a glance to mortal male, who decries death breed’s frisson.

Thus disallowing healthy end of life discussion 
once tutu shed rescinding plenti more figurative song and dance routines 
final curtain call closes existence, where grim reaper jeers with derision    
at attempts to thwart cessation of mortality, 
whereby scientists seek to en-hance longevity – 
even exhuming the dead (or thawing deceased 
from suspended animation) and experimenting 
with nonanesthetic induced incision.    

To rewind expired meter fostering demise after staying alive – 
with lance a lot chock full of chemical concoctions (hatched at round table)
to revive corpse as ultimate mission.

Yet, any effort to transcend genetic bulwark engendered 
from bulge in pants (that initially unleashes biological reproduction 
viz zit head via seminal swimmer in tandem with merging ova) 
based on advantageous coupling favored position, 
ought not be tampered with 
lest havoc t’will rent asunder ranting rabid quest per final course 
since egg versus chic hen ala kin collision.    

Inscribed within DNA blueprint from extinct cousins of uncles and aunts 
prepping monster to burst from Ray Kurzweil laboratory      
whereby to halt recalcitrant son or daughter spanning cradle to grave
invariably yields zombie, spells monstrous FRUITION!

Of Love and Pain (I Staked My Claim)

I’m a glutton for love you know
Yet I’m a sucker for pain
Heart on my sleeve everywhere I go
Not wanting sustenance of refrain
Red on my palms entwined with another
Parading around like a stalking saint
Spreading the word to innocent lovers
In message of insight and finger-paint
Thrown into the renovation trade
Rushing the blood to cheeks of the pale
Lessening trounce of quake’s tailor made
Damaging ratings on life’s Richter scale
Mourning profusely, smile without sound
Inventing new sketchings on solar graphs
Mending cracks in the walls all around
Stopping leaks from pipe burst hearts
Filling back up the tear of the hollow
Then swiftly moving along to the next
Extending hands with pride left to swallow
While keeping rejection within its context
The irony of this whole situation
Almost so vague it kinda begets me
Knowledge from past and foregone conclusion
Prolonging a word called simplicity
I’ve seen this before, I’ve loved and lost
Not sorry for wanting to share what I feel
If pain means healing or trusting at cost 
At least then I’ll know of feeling surreal
That’s better than not being able to live 
It’s so much better then nothing at all
With bountiful bouquets of love left to give
I listen for rose colored voices to call
The aroma next time around will be such
Allowing mitosis that seeks to enthrall
And stroke the face with a gentle touch
In the aisle to wildflower entrance halls
Reach out the hands forgetful of catching
Pick up the broken shards of metal
Trailing emotions while sympathy snatching
Garden bound barefoot on lying rose petals
Healthy and wholesome food for the soul
A soft patch for landing on feet with grace 
Creation arranged in colorful holes
For the next time we fall into love’s embrace

Seed

Desiccated stems scattering amid taut hands;
Lingering footsteps among conjoined velvet roots;
The interval’s inertia an anxious psychosomatic swell.

This once stale earth is now littered with perpetual fractals;
A kaleidoscopic reverence descends in mute pulsating breaths.

Stretched faces adopt the slithering temperament of gnarled bark;
Snatched sentences break and collide in waves of meditative mitosis;
Incessant cyclical (e)motions converge on a bluntly obstinate awe.

Luridly tremulous marvels stalk beside perambulating horrors;
An ethereal world saturated by fresh irrefutable certainties.

Space suspended beneath an impulsively precipitate sky;
Staggered exodus governed by periodic disorientation;
A dazed echo lingers and reality becomes an escape.
© Dan Keir  Create an image from this poem.

16 Oz.

The frozen male gamete is injected into the
bovine beast of burden and succour.

Months later, through the miracle of mitosis, a 
juicy cut of prime passes through the birth canal, both
beautiful and bloody.

Steadfast child of some eastern divinity, I have faith that this creature was born
to meet his end on some surgical-steel golgotha,

and nourish me as bits and pieces cut and portioned on my dixie plate!



-note-
I am not a vegetarian.

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