Best Phosphate Poems


Super Sponge Soul-Soul Consciousness

In a Continuum consciousness far beyond
In a timeless time of pre existence
Waking wonders that unfold and respond
With the Kingdom keys of less resistance...

Seismic secular Soul secretions
Creating many learned living legions
Chaotic Cosmic consciousness swirling in Majestic masses
Super Sponge Soul absorbing the Multiverse of gases

Dynamic DNA dancing strands of phosphate spice
The blueprints of our creation double helix shall suffice
Spiritual Soul the embodiment of a specified source
Collective Consciousness through out the human course

Dark molecular matter that we cannot see
Is the Love, the galactic glue that is to be.


Why is it necessary that Soul consciousness be achieved while in the physical body? Is this the purpose of our souls being encased in a physical body?

May.25.2016
Contest By Catie Lindsey
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member The Poet's Faculty Meeting

Faculty meeting. Formidably flippantly fortuitously fluffy and forgetful.
I began to write a little list of F words, because I was in the F word mood.
Frilly. Free-ha-ha. Feast. Forget-me-knots. Fallacy. Farming. Fastidious. Fun-filled.
What are you doing? A non-friend asked me. She had already broken my chain of counting when I was
Counting syllables, making me angry.
“I am writing F words,” I tell her.  She looks at me with fanfare, farcically, fantastically.
I am relieved to begin anew. Now I am adding PH words, because they will go along well with my theme.
Phonetically, phenomena’s, phenol barbital, phosphate, phantom, philosophy
“You can always ask Caren.”
Uh-oh.
I look up.
Everyone is looking at me including the principal who is pleased as punch I’m taking such great notes.
I nod my head.
Feline, foamy. Form-fitting, fleshy, flesh-eating, fractions, fanfare, fishy, finished, foamy, Phillip, fixed, fixt.
Someone puts their hand on my paper.
I glare at them. “What are you doing?”
I put my finger to my lips to shush them.
Fluffy. Faerie, Fairy. Franchise. Farmer. Freshman. Frequent. Frequently.
Feminine. Farcical. Feisty. Fibber. Fibbing. French fries.
I look up. 
Clock says 4:35. Time to go.
Totally un-socialized, I fly out the door, knowing the union is on my side.

Inside Out

Inside Out

The mighty mitochondria make ATP, 
Without which there’d be no you or no me. 
From glucose, bonds break and energy flows, 
Through various molecules, energy goes. 
From foods that you once eventually ate, 
ADP gets another phosphate. 

It can reproduce when only one, 
(But all by itself, that can’t be much fun.) 

The round DNA in them that is found, 
Is the same as bacteria that today are around. 
But it still retains its original way,
And replicates with its own DNA.

Ribosomes also, like bacteria’s of course.
Of their proteins, they are the source.
The ribosomes that it uses to make its protein, 
Are just like bacteria’s, when close up are seen. 

And these proteins, they are very old,
Like those of bacteria, so we are told.

Two membranes it has and the problems that posed, 
Until the thought, it was once phagocytosed. 

The bacterium was phagocytized, no lysosome engaged,
They started living together with no one enraged.
And because at the start, the lysosome did fail, 
Now two membranes remain to suggest this tale.

And so it is true,
With chloroplasts too.
The same type of tale,
Just not being pale.
These are plain green,
And easily seen.
From sunlight and carbon they make a compound,
That their mitochondria can then break down.
For their mitochondria work just the same,
To make ATP, the name of the game.

Endosymbiosis is the name of the game,
Many people don’t get it and that’s a real shame.
It’s more than just two things living together,
It made them both quite different and better.
A few billion years past, both were living,
A cell and bacterium, each one giving.

What does it matter, why do we care?
Because with endosymbiosis, evolution does share.
The bacterium had talent in making ATP,
And became mitochondria in both you and me.
© LR Waldman  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Verse


Girlfriend

You are my phosphate in life,
The dynamo in my gate,
You're not weak but fate,
You buffer my fife.

Ion and atom do compound,
And my temperature flies,
My acidic condition cries,
Pressure dissolves around.
Form: Quatrain

D.N.A.

Deoxyribonucleic acid is a word,
as large as the influence it casts upon the Earth.
More precisely, it fits nicely, as an acid, based,
in creatures big and small, it is the blueprint, how they're made.

The RNA is information carried in your genes,
it's found within the DNA that makes up you and me.
A Double Helix is the name of the shapely pattern,
that DNA will tend to make, it resembles a ladder.
The lines on the outside are two and are a crucial glue,
to hold the sides Nucleotides, a sugar phosphate group.
To each of these there are attached a molecule, you see,
Adenine, Thymine, Guanine, Cytosine, 

Every part of you is made of cells you cannot see,
you could say the DNA is like a recipe.
This double helix ladder can easily unwind,
and wind again, it happens every time a cell divides.
Inside a cell, the DNA strands wrap up real close,
and organize into an x, behold, the chromosome!

Eukaryotic organisms like animals and plants,
use the nucleus of cells to store these precious strands.
-Of course there are so many places DNA is found,
Prokaryotes, like bacteria, spread it all around! 
RNA is like a copy of a given strand,
and essential for an organism to expand. 
In order to expand, the cells will have to split in two,
and once they do, the one that's old will be the same as new.
To achieve this feat a DNA strand must have proteins,
different binds of different kinds can all effect the coding.

DNA has shaped the way all life has evolved,
it is the blueprint, how we're made, creatures big and small.
Deoxyribonucleic acid is a word,
as large as the influence it casts upon the Earth.
It made me what I am, and it made you be you,
now show DNA what YOU'RE made of,
and that you have some big plans to!

The Retreat

Vibrations awaken
the still night air,
unsettling the
sanded

Footprints..

At our steps, 
one last clinging
before I let go,
of the skies

That stretch,  across
our hidden place,
Like ghosts of
remnants

We bathe, in
phosphate
covered sheets

Bare..

Shivers escaping
through cascades
of hair, he strokes
the frail of my skin

like butter I twist,
I'm impaled,
so I inhale
him.


We Are Math

Electrons fulfill their wave equations
Bonding polarities shift their vectors
Giving way for kinase phosphorations
On a channel near neural connectors

Anions build within the cell's walls
So Potassium plays with its mates
Sheltered from large sodium rainfalls
By fat magnesium blocking the gates

A signal could pass and make it rain
From many parts throughout the brain
But most frequencies are duly spurned
Unless its what these neighbors learned

The right signal comes, but it's passed on stronger
For the potassium flees the rain a little longer
They push against the kinase's phosphate
To make their departure a tad more late

The vesicles blow from the rain saying go
Making sure the next neuron hears clear
Pushing hard to keep that thought's flow
So even the inhibited get their ass in gear

The kinase made the switch, because it wanted change
Cued by serotonin to increase the shout range
And why then did it decide to override inhibition?
The sight of new light gave the brain a mission

It's sad serotonin is so sparse in society
Because our missions get no cheer to be clear
The neurons just stay safe without variety
And duty always seems eclipsed by fear
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Grasp the Nettle

Soup and greens,beer and tea
buttlerfly young just love me,
aphid trap and liquid feed
ladybird heaven,yes indeed!
I love phosphate & nitrate soil
such versatility reduces toil,
my leaves quicken the compost
all this for free,at no cost!
Okay,okay,yes I sting
but for you its win,win,win!
,
Tribute to the utrica dioica
Form: Verse

Manufactured Romance

A magical chemical infatuation
to disregard the tradition
of natures connectivity and diversity
dragged to the will of its subjugation
to dig into the complex cells intimacy
its mass increments of the yields
killing off the birds and the insects
for the sake of crop conformity 
in the unnatural fields

A perfectly poisonous promise
released in defusable clouds 
through the early morning mists
chugged and pumped out grotesque deformity 
in silent avenues of crop conformity
the deathly dew eliminates
all so ripe so well protected
in latent morbidity awaits 

Layers by "half-life" lifeless inherited 
in this chemists manufacturing of a chemical romance
the inorganic compounds of devastation
bound by an economical tourniquet
to plough again the blighted earth
split breakdown the biological integration
a quick fix to be persuaded 
a million years of evolution
the symbiosis of the world in Gods hand
was not a patent so diligently as patiently perfected
or so insidiously infected in the land 

Mechanized desert to produce the taste
a tasteless morsel of a savored remembrance
to its colour yet another substance added
organophosphates persistently digested 
concentrations in environmental compartments
disarrange the circles tilt the balance
the enemy is natures necessity 
needs be defeated
swap it over transmit a hell-bent malignancy

Collusion's by crude oil alchemy
improving on a profitable perimeter
this chemical romance of manufactured efficiency
O = HO - P - HO - NH - O - OH ! OH !
take a look at what marvelous science has made !
broad spectrum killer
needs be to murder off bio-diversity
and 5-enolpyruvylshikimate-3 phosphate synthase
is so much better 
so much cleverer than natures ways
so taint the population with polluted fodders feed
killing off the birds and the bees
killing off the fish, the insects and the fungi
and killing off our babies 

So perfectly formed
and so perfectly preserved
perfectly free of any blemish
all sitting on the billion shelves
of a million supermarkets

So perfectly wrapped
and so perfectly presented
the perfectly picture of health
and in its cells something so insidious
and the perfectly poisonous
is its promise

So perfectly formed
and so perfectly preserved
perfectly free of any blemish
all sitting on the billion shelves
of a million supermarkets

Phosphate

Mortal swords surrounded by flames honored soldiers on cloaked horseback 
redemption shall lead your souls past brimstone no sinner will find shelter the 
salvation of pegan is yours for the taken. At this time of auguish in hate we trust
the prince of righteous will grant us manisons and glory in his victorious story
damnation is but a fools trick and treat the soldiers of Caliga shall not fall for this
vulgar display of believers way. Will you clear a path for the princes arrival will
you undertake the time of inquisition as the faithful repent, will you rid the deceiver
of heaven sent as a soldier of dark Nero let cause be your hero. Ride the storm of 
judgement lead the fable of horsemen to the bitter end it's midnight let the calling begin.
© Cole Beck  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Epic

No Forward Planning

The farmer was defeated, he leaned against a gate 
He’d known the harvest would be poor the crop was sown too late
The fertiliser too was wrong and that had caused a panic,
He’d used a super phosphate when he should have stayed organic.

A dry spell in the early spring along with March winds blowing
Had turned the land to desert dust and stopped the crop from growing
When at last the rain arrived it turned into a flood
Turning desert dried up fields into a sea of mud

The July sun did not arrive, the harvest was disaster
He cursed his men and whipped the mare to drive the creature faster
Yet all along things had gone wrong, the moral here of course is
You can’t improve a harvest cursing men and whipping horses

A bad upset can happen when you leave things just to chance
So cover all your options think them all through in advance
It’s therefore worth remembering advice that you’ve just read
If you want things to turn out well, then try to plan ahead
© Roy May  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

Premium Member Dna

D---Distinctive deoxyribonucleic 
N---Natural nucleotide 
A---Adenine (A)Acid phosphate the make up of you and me



4/23/18
written words by James Edward Lee Sr.
Copyright © 2018
Form: Acrostic

August Snow

All night sweating under a skin-wet sheet. 
Fevered fantasies of skinny dipping
in a kiddy paddling pool,
toes as sticky as denture gum.

it’s broiling August.
Cold showers frazil 
with soapy earth-baked splashes.

There’s a place to go
where they sell snow -
it’s a drug store, where they deal
in root beer floats, numb-numbs;
an ice-cream brain freeze. It helps.

Of course, in steamy September
when the sweat on your nose
flows upward
into parched eyes
 
a chilled Lime Phosphate
is the only cure.

Premium Member A Stroll Along Memory Lane

Images cascade before us
  Strolling 'long memory lane
Lithe and supple were we back in those days
  Before decades of stresses and strain

I jump high, pluck a leaf from a tree
  You twirl about and fall into me
Shops seem so tiny and quaint
  Proprietors honest, without taint

We stop at the drugstore for a soda
  Seated high atop spin-around stools
Two straws but just one chocolate phosphate
  ~ Puppy lovers who play by the rules
Form: Rhyme

Ohio Ashes

She’d kept the pewter dusted and displayed
since 1959.
A verdigris had leached out of the urn nevertheless
She had been hard on him, had forgiven little,
but felt much closer now.
The television became a corner coffin,
its screen a penumbra she often spoke to.
She had interred it in 1974 after Nixon left office
“Disgraceful.” She had said both to his ashes, and the set.
A part of her husband remained to dwell with her;
the homunculus felt like a much-chewed jaw-bone
rattling in the urn.
She began to dream.
His tweed suit walked from its closest,
to make love to her,
sleeves caressed sensitive pockets.
When she awoke she smelled of mothballs,
Brylcreem and Old Spice.
The television came to life;
the blue monochrome face of Nixon appearing -
he was crying.
his permanent five o’clock shadow damp with tears.
“Sorry Mabel.” He said.
“You should be.” She retorted hotly,
yet her heart skipped a beat as the screen died.
She was troubled.
She broke the glass front of the TV
placing her husband's urn inside.
The urn grew greener as if it were full of Ohio River water.
She saw herself as a young girl swimming;
the river as refreshing as a lime phosphate.
The urn glimmered as new images surfaced,
a tenderness gnawed at her.
Her late spouse teased her with fingers
plucked from her own lap.
He brushed her lips with threads of gray.
Her bitterness
become a speck she kept in a jar of Pond’s facial cream.
“Just in case,” she thought.

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