Best Natural Selection Poems
in My New Normal
so happy I let him go
Home I truly am
Little ladybug
I’ll save you from the basin
But a fly must die
Hail the swaying stalks
Bowed so fiercely to razor
breeze
Watch that young one stand
See the will-o-wisp rise!
From clover fields of hay
An idea, a spark
There is no fear
There is no pain
The bullwhip snaps
Goes the gust of wind, alas.
He hasn't worked out quite
enough
Ketchup dripping from stomata
Drops pitter patter
On the filthy concrete floor
We'll never know what lies in
store
Farmer John came out today
To make himself five bales of
hay
Trips up over corpses, though
They haven't really died, you
know.
Behold the flies!
Hear them sweat
Braced against the widow's web
Tension rises
Length extends
Race against the Persian sands
The bed frame creaks
It longs to speak
The eyes are here
They're everywhere
In our first meeting place
We copulate on sandy
waters
The hope of born man
Hope only to birth again
The sun so high
Burns alone in the sky
The battlefield is crimson
No demon spawn would yield
Still the monster altercates
Bearing brethren's shields
Behold the men!
Feel them sweat
Working on Egyptian spreads
Minds discover
Fists defend
Unconscious of what life intends
Creepy-crawling
This cold bitter morning
The fittest will survive
And the strongest do move on
But stop the press! For from
this test
What lion-bird will spawn?
Mistah Kurtz - he gone crazy
Two pennies for my baby?
UN-NATURAL SELECTION
PERHAPS IT ‘S JUST A BIG BANG DESECRATION
UNRAVELLING OF NATURAL SELECTION
BUT WE MUST CAST A VOTE
THE DUNGEON OR THE MOAT
IN HOPES THE WHOLE DAMN THING’S AN ABERRATION
11/4/2016
Time reveals the meaning of life
Our purpose is something we define
This lone conscious creature
Is burdened by the instinctual conscious mind
If we take a post reductionist perspective
We start with a primordial cup of tea
A petri dish
Brimming with endless possibilities
The successful drives from antiquity
Lie deep in the recesses of our mind
Driving, pushing, our species
Reeking havoc in modern times
We’re experiencing an internal battle
Insatiable is our lust
We’re incapable of living in the moment
Enough is never enough
Such are the internal drives
They are a burden for the beast
Awareness of this dichotomy
Makes it hard for inner peace
Like a man lost in the wilderness
Like a ship off course in a stormy sea
We need a guiding light for our salvation
Or else, the irony of evolving tragically
The evolution of the environment
Has surpassed the adaptation of our mind
Will we adapt?
Good question; Time reveals the meaning of life
The past has usurped our future
In modernity the blind drives thrive
If we can learn to live a life of moderation
We could start to appreciate what it means to be alive
I could not stick my head in glue
To feed and wait with barnacles,
Or seek security among
Aggregate anemones,
Or anchor to tomorrow with sedentary polyps,
Or browse with slugs,
Or cling to rocks,
Or maintain the perpetual
Defensiveness of urchins,
Or achieve “being realistic”
With camouflaged bottom dwellers,
Or remain isolated in a shell.
I float on my colors,
Moved by current desires.
Developing backbone
To swim effortlessly
In the ocean of possibility.
I mean was Darwin thinking when he wrote this theory
When I studied Psychology and read this I said O’ dear me
Only the strong shall survive was his point
I think on this subject his jaw was out of joint
Observing two similar birds with different beaks
Saying that’s evolution is evident as I speak
Well here I go again, a myth buster at his best
To show this dude Darwin didn’t put the theory to the test.
I have one example that blows holes in it
Even Darwin will raise his hands and say “Sid you got me beat”
Hear we go:
Once again :-)
Have you ever seen a female dog when she’s on heat
To the male dogs this is a treat
They line up be hind her according to strength
As they patiently wait to make love to this wench
But then a strange thing happens the strongest mut
Is faced with a challenge which is a make or bust
And while they size each other and start to brawl
The others run away leaving one that is scrawny and small
The small one approaches her and doesn’t even have the audacity to give her a sniff
He just climbs up and gives her the stiff
And after his finished and has done the deed
You expecting a through breed, the end product is a mongrel cross breed
So when you meet a skinny man with coke bottle glasses and a comb over
Just think “no such thing as natural selection and the best is scrawny Rover”
This is the best that you’ll ever get
And the love will be the best I bet
And as I tuck myself in and before I switch off the light
All I have to say ladies and gentleman is good night
For five years the illustrious and regal
Charles Darwin, sailed on the Beagle.
A surveying ship,
Notebooks all a’rip,
Soon in battle with Wallace, so legal.
An
orphan
grey seal cub-
left to sink or
swim.
Twin lightning bolts
strike at the same time,
one a tree
the other me.
Nature decides;
the tree is scarred,
me, ashes in a jar.
Natural selection, nature
decides.
The melancholic moon hangs, guilty in the mourning mist.
The murderous sun rises to execute the closing vapour.
Innocent winds unknowingly disperse the evidence far and wide.
And I awaken from my snow-filled dream to shower under forgiving rain,
as ignorant to nature's glorious torment as volcanoes are to life.
"NATURAL SELECTION"
eventually the baby
will be conceived,
it will cry, laugh and talk.
it will crawl, walk
and run.
the moon will dance
through the night.
the sun will ride
valiantly into a
death match.
the rain will cry
as it falls.
the thunder will roll
and the lightning
will strike.
the flowers will bloom.
the roses will die.
the trees will be
void of leaves.
the love will turn
into acceptance.
all is now clear through
my tears of desolation.
eventually the broken-
hearted prevail.
misery has held me
prisoner.
tonight,
I am free.
By: Chicano Eddie
7-11-2016
Gravely digging the grave digger digs
holes for souls; waste pits plotted
earth soils clogging
Collections of bones for storage and mind
Disposal in disguise
Many a form, Goldfinch alike, are left
in place of death; laying spent, shrivelled
dishevelled, colours still abright
I wasn't going to dig a hole so I left it
where it lay; no-one will dig for its soul
No grave digger digs such a small pit
No respect, no clogging, no digging
Instead the finches are left
along with the Linnet, the Thrush, the Owl
and the Crow; destined to be sucked back
into nature's cauldron
to go wherever birds go
Big fish eat lil fish
Refuse to elaborate
Went away freely.
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