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
There was a meeting of the “gods”
The “real” ones and the “frauds”
The one’s that shaved their heads
The one’s with “wicked” bods
Each one convinced “they are the One”
You must choose - ya can’t have none
Or else concede a one celled amoeba
Somehow spawned and then conceived ya
At lunch they served a “stoic” stew
Topped off with a Pagan brew
A sweet dessert of humble pie
Beneath a dark skeptical sky
The gods of men are snowflake thin
Hidden beneath the distant din
Of times and hopes and promised lands
An hourglass of endless sand
The “gods” of men are running wild
While the “men of God” walk single file
Perhaps
The remnant
of the one celled amoeba
Still transcending the primordial ooze
Sucking sustenance from the
Oozing awakening
Of life
back into the ooze
when we were swimming carefree
simple one-celled things
5/15/19
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
My fan drowns out the noise of the city streets as I sleep.
Squared out silence displaced from my eardrums as the earth hums.
The rise and fall of this dirt crusted layer in my chest, with every trip of my heart flux, flowing molten lava at its crux.
Years deep in prehistoric records, marking every natural disaster to the birth of one celled organisms that make a home in my lungs, and breed.
It’s the bang of utter desolation that brings me back, to my framed and paved reality, primal angst wrapped in cotton threads, sweaty and all alone in my twisted head.
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.
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