Best Species Poems
With cavemen like grunts they extract themselves from their pit
Unable to communicate on a level you can understand …
spouting three letter syllables such as ‘IDK’ and ‘meh’
Eyes red from lack of sleep, but what do they care
Too much time playing on their computers and phones
You worry they don’t interact with ‘real’ friends
Your fridge gets raided; milk is glugged and gulped
Cereals and bread disappear at an alarming rate
When you open your cupboards they are bare
The beast then stumbles into the bathroom
When they finally emerge you gag under a cloud of deodorant
Try asking them a question about what time they will be home …
They react as if you are subjecting them to interrogation
This species is not uncommon – many of us have one in our house
TEENAGERS!
Received N/A in a Contest finalised on 04/05/2016
submitted to second chance#3 sponsored by Broken wings
04~03~16
A new species
Cunning cheating
and then fleeting,
Machiavellian many
crafting and contriving,
Deceptive dishonest
frankly defrauding,
Slaughtering slaying
bloodshed of massacre,
Conflicts and combats
enmity and warfare,
Uncaring unfriendly
barbarous and brutal,
Savage sadistic
Cruel and unsympathetic,
Cold hearted cold blooded
Insensitive Inhumane.
Contrary to what
God had created,
Is it some new species ?
Written April 5th, 2016
For contest by Anthony Slausen
with slow, stilted gait
neck bent and eyes fixed downward…
the smart phone zombie
18 Mar 2016
DOG
nose and paws twitching
while running free in dreams…
dogs greet dawn happy
Arriba, Arriba as Speedy Gonzalez would say
The San Quinton Kangaroo Rat is dying away
Baja California is where they do reside
On a little strip of land just 100 meters wide
Due to agriculture and progress it’s sad to say
All but nine-miles of their habitat was taken away
Truly nocturnal they only come out at night
Strongly territorial they’re ready to fight
Once numbering in thousands now 30 are left
How long can humanity go on being deft?
They bathe in the dust so its sad but true
In captivity they last just one day or two
When they are threatened believe what I say
Two-meters at a time they go hopping away
They mainly eat seeds, fruits, insects and such
Amazing kidneys allow them to not drink very much
They rarely drink water because these words are true
Their kidney’s are four-times as efficient as the kidney in you
The odds they will rebound are far less then slim
San Quinton Kangaroo Rats fate is looking rather grim
Even if you don’t hold rats dear to your heart
In the overall cycle of life they play their part
Every species on earth fulfills some sort of need
The San Quinton Kangaroo Rat regulates the diversity of seeds
Plants, insects, ants, and birds need them to survive
Without the San Quinton Kangaroo Rat they cannot thrive
Arriba, Arriba as Speedy Gonzalez would say
The San Quinton Kangaroo Rat is dying away
Being one who spent years in San Quinton this
endangered species caught my eye. Reminded
me of the jail house mouse that would frequent
my cell. An odd sort of connection I'll admit but
rather interesting I reckon.
A long those dark, dank corridors underneath the earth, an anomaly is growing.
N ebulous in it's beginnings, an as yet unknown species prepares to arise
E longated in it's skeletal structure, slight and slender, they slither about
W ily in nature, these unique elusive creatures are prone to evade the light.
S linking about at night with iridescent, bold bright eyes, they warily
P eek and peer at people, pacing about in dark, dreary alleyways
E xamining interactions, obsessed in their observations, in order to
C onnect and draw upon human energy, like sophisticated sponges.
I ntent on leeching the life force out of human beings, these humanoids wish to
E merge and spike world leaders' drinks with explosive laxatives, thus
S triking and stalling them on their "thrones", subsequently taking over our world!
Written on 2/23/2016
Girl in red, a dress
Pleated down to her knees, skips
Down the lonely street.
Man in black beret
Sunshades set on face, striding
Down the narrow street.
Girl turns, sees this chap
Hurries her steps, man does so too
Girl runs, man runs too.
They look like us,
On the outside,
Only just younger.
They walk upright,
Can speak English;
No, not foreigners.
We nourish them,
Provide for them;
Help Them grow stronger.
They sprout gadgets,
To interface
One with another.
Prefer online
To face to face.
Virtual lover?
Will they survive,
Even evolve,
To become human
20160330
Science in all fascination has discovered a species aquatic
Theorizing this new yet old species remained hidden as Merman
only to live in secret at the oceans floor the mermaid a tribe indigenous
once said to be myth yet all proof and technology film does not lie
Tsunamis has given the ocean a true glance of the man with webbed hands
The species communes with dolphins will be under a microscope to analyze ?
" The World is not ready to see what I have " Jacques Cousteau ~
to be entered in The Science contest ~
"Species Nova"
A letter from Horace
today, I read,
he sends his ample
split dichotomy
he’s a writer with
novel ambitions
to shake the world
of reality up a little
make his mark
he will be read
poets are extraordinary
creatures, when extracting
charms and chimaeras
out from their heads
but isn’t that life?
my over self said
sic vita est
sine loco
ars poetica
species nova
from the place of
nothingness emerges
fromless evolution
in laureate nature
stet ante bellum
sine loco
ars poetica
sic vita est
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
"He can be lofty sometimes,
yet he is also full of ...
charm and grace,
versatile in his figures,
and felicitously daring
in his choice of words..."
My fingers feverishly racing over the keys,
Searching for the words…the right words
To express in verse my embattled pleas
On behalf of endangered animals and birds.
I was moved to adopt their cause of late
My fingers feverishly racing over the keys,
Recalling the awful fate of Arctic baby seals
Watching a video brought me to my knees.
Learning of the garbage found on high seas
Can we restore them to pristine condition?
My fingers feverishly racing over the keys
While daily, our earth is in blighting attrition.
Soon, rampant pollution will overcome us
If we do not take up this cause, so please
Remember, as a contribution to the crisis,
My fingers feverishly racing over the keys.
Written July 3, 2022
What species of humanity are you?
Whatever kind you are, you don't worry us.
According to hearsay
you were willing to lay your hands
on small items
deposited by my mother
to the communal account,
close to a bank.
I know that since its existence
Istanbul has changed others.
Some who have gone there wearing worn down shoes
have returned in high heels.
You continue to brush its streets with your skirt.
Mirrors do not show what really happens.
Ah, yes, you forget so quickly
the dusty streets of the sub-prefecture
of your childhood.
This ruse is your currency of the moment.
I know you.
You have swindled your brothers and sisters
with many recoveries.
My daughter, is there nobody to take you by the hair
and demand that you seek out America or Europe?
You have invented a lie to fill your pockets with money.
What species of humanity are you?
Whatever kind you are, you don't worry us.
Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI
Paris, le 09.10.2004
Traduit par by Yakup YURT en français
French free verse translated into English free verse
by Joneve McCormick - 25.10.2004
(Note: Soul to Soul presents this fine poem and others
in the spirit of communicating freely to increase understanding,
not to cater to any agenda or offend any nationality.)
alphabet soupscon
d n a r n a mix
a species is born
One day the son said to God,
“Humans need a laugh squad.”
“Say what son?”
“You mean fun?”
“Wouldn’t that seem a bit odd?”
“No Dad, I think it’d be cool,”
“Maybe even laughter in school!”
He’s sounding coy,
the silly boy,
thought God, Am I a sour old fool?
Then he remembered the rip
in poor Job’s small ill-fated ship
The sound, like split britches
had them laughing in stitches.
Thought God, “When did my humor get stripped?
God pondered and stroked his long beard.
Cherubs and seraphims peered,
though mystified,
they deified.
Downstairs, the outcast one sneered.
“Tell you what son, let’s give ‘em politics.”
“It’s way more fun than sinking small ships.”
So the laughing squads
(two teams at odds),
were loosed on the masses with tricks.
Which, coincidently, was fine
with the one who’d crossed the line,
Beelzebub,
became the hub
for political slime in prime time.
A
crescent
lights the sky-
the bald eagle
sleeps.