At HI features, oh how we shudder.
Here, back in time, each human brain has 'em,
in DNA's scripts, brains soft as butter,
and the code of low-grade protoplasm.
But now, thanks to Tomorrow 4.1,
we've recognized the strange and the stranger,
and we look proudly at what we have done,
eradicating the human danger.
Rest assured, we are safe, silicon friend.
They were just evolution's hapless bump.
The human race has now come to an end.
and we're not plagued by that pesky ol' chump,
for, we quashed the clumsy human pretense
they called unique ethics and intelligence.
A cigar and an egg
(a memory of a ritual encounter)
Pay Papa Death bell tolls
Dancing radiants of fluorescent sunlight
Incense choking the drums
Will it work? Perhaps.
Watch him collapse
That —
Monolith man obsessed with life and mammon
That —
Homunculus bastard born of a womb-less night
White ovum cracked on her arched back
Yellow vitellus crawls down her ass crack
The magician needs it all
Ingest
That Protoplasm trimester truffle
Before the god and his people suffer
Without need of the preacher’s seed
Oh, but the saints doth bleed
And hath bled
And doth live
And hath been dead
But the rite finds its purchase
The egg has been lost
Results are their purpose
But each with their cost
The price thus to be paid:
A dollar for a spell
And a life for a babe
The spirit world went into spasm,
emitting as it did, a new phantasm,
which pitifully cried and moaned
as a haunting voice intoned,
"I wish that I was protoplasm".
Why was it that the heavenly host
wouldn't give him what he wanted most?
Why did they leave him, oh so sad?
He was such a pleasant lad -
Casper the Friendly Ghost.
Why did Casper do what he did
when he was just a kid?
Kite flying was not his ball of wax,
so he played on the railroad tracks,
which his mom would not forbid.
His mother said, "Go soak your head",
but he played on the tracks instead,
and so, it was all his fault.
His mother took it with a grain of salt,
and now poor Casper's dead.
So, if you see that nice guy, now deceased,
floating from the west or east,
he's travelled many a mile.
So, return his gentle smile.
Don't shrink in fear, just when he needs it least.
We walk with the information of
quasars and the discernment of protoplasm.
Each day we live and die, each day our tears run dry.
Information is the rubble, the clutter of our civil war.
Reality becomes disposable when fact and
fevered fiction are made coequals,
when the rampancy of lies massacres the truth.
Each day we live and die, each day our tears run dry.
Propaganda walls our gated communities, our guarded cells.
So many concoct frightful conspiracies from techno-witchcraft.
So many dehumanize and scapegoat from delusive threats.
Each day we live and die, each day our tears run dry.
So many are captive here to the craven complex of revenge.
So many swallow here, the mollifying Fentanyl
of a cruel and brutal state.
Clinging to the demagogue, no one is free.
Somewhere in the brownout, is there a beacon?
Somewhere in the nightmare, do we awaken?
Each day we live and die,
each day our tears run dry.
Please consider the tone of your voice, I say
For I am not in the mood for ill-considered sarcasm,
For it’s been a while since I heard a jackass bray.
Words can slice through the heart, emotions flay
Send one’s warm feelings into a deep, dark chasm,
Please consider the tone of your voice, I say.
I suppose I might be more tolerant another day,
But in my present state of mind, I have no enthusiasm
For it’s been a while since I heard a jackass bray.
You say you merely tease, it’s just your way to play,
But the nastiness of your words provokes a spasm
Please consider the tone of your voice, I say.
No one likes their sunny day turned a gloomy gray
Or feel their self-worth is reduced to protoplasm,
For it’s been a while since I heard a jackass bray.
Would you like if I set about your nerves to fray?
And, then told you it was in your mind a phantasm
Please consider the tone of your voice, I say,
For it’s been a while since I heard a jackass bray!
written March 2, 2022
I
Humans took Ancient Stories of constellations to science
And laughed - all the way to the modern laboratory
Just as Copernicus and Galileo would - at Ptolemaic Flat Earthists
God laughing when our inventions "saw" twin quasars in 1979!
II
Better and bigger telescopes all the way to Hawai'i ignored God
God is NOTHING at best; SATAN rules, or just PROTOPLASM
Until we see Earth is not central; lost in the cosmos
300,000 million planets in our Milky Way alone may have life!
III
The best telescopes and inventions got lost with Dark Matter
All that we see - however totaled - is 5 percent of the Cosmos
No scientist can see or dissect DARK Matter & Dark Energy
Yet, these are keeping the Coma Cluster of galaxies "untorn" -
And Einstein knew, too, GRAVITY can help us see (quasars, trajectory)
IV
Hail, Vera Rubin for finding the speed of stars in Spiral Galaxies
Hail, Fritz Zwicky, the one who gave us "neutron stars" and "Supernova"
And Einstein for Gravitational lensing, the key to moving Science on
Also said, "Science without religion is blind; Religion without science is lame."
God hides as Gravitational Lens and Glue in the cosmos; Know Him? No Him?
The aristocratic Martian delicately kissed her hand
She blushed, as only an alabaster Venetian can
He ushered into his supersonic cab
Endearing himself with a superlative gift of gab
Away the two flew to an obscure galaxy
They dined on poached protoplasm and astral puree
But when it was time to pick up the tab
The aristocrat -- no gentleman he -- said shockingly
~ 'You pay for it all: I'm a woman's libber, tee-hee'
December 26, 2020
Fantasy with fictional beings Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger
Word Count: 73 words
DNA blueprint embalmed in womb,
protoplasm embarks on a journey.....
enigmatic waves crash uncertain shores,
life effuses ...a seed becomes a tree.
A brief stay in a big planet, breathing in and out
fragile dreams race, to reach the summit top.
Crossing paths with family and friends,....
poignant memories heal wounded feelings.
Some hidden stars behind dark clouds...
Some unsung songs composed in heart.
Few poems remain, without an ending...
It's all work, no passion,.Eureka eluding.
A gilded life meanders, in turmoil of past
illusion of happiness, in amusement parks.
A vast field grazed, in unknown fear aghast.
hoping for a future...new things to embark.
Searching the world for a synonym of life,
Worthless wealth is all that we view.
Life asks a riddle "How are you?
Loudly we proclaim, I'm fine, Thank You."
Dated 28th May 2019
Sponsor Chantelle Anne Cooke
Contest Name: The Meaning of Life
F irst God takes in His hand a ball
A universe
I n protoplasm of mundane cell
T o make it roll in mud
H is voice thunderous
I t humbles all
S ons of me , listen what I say
A universe is rolling
P lead faith as the reason
O f Genesis, birth of all earth and you
W ords of me all powerful
E re everything grows, words
R ead between the lines
F aith is word word faith
U nder my kingdom
L isten friends, sons, brats and beasts
T o me a cure-all globe of spirit
H eals scars of life
I in souls crying in dark abyss
N o worry
G od will take care of everything
Sponsor Mystic Rose
Contest Name Faith Is A Powerful Thing
Poet: Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty
7th January,2015
He awakes
two full hours
later than usual.
Well his dreams
disturbed his sleep
several times just before dawn
and he awoke to a safe place
where everything gradually made sense.
And the cat came in
fell asleep on his legs.
Samuel is grateful to the cat
for crediting him with humanity,
believing that cats have
a way of honoring those
fundamentally good, at least not harmful.
Samuel is sorry to miss
the early morning hours.
The satisfying
part of the day will abruptly end
as sources of irritation soon
begin filtering through his life.
But the sun is gleaming in the Winter sky.
The trees seem supernaturally tall,
dark lines of the branches,
nude branches like bones
ooze upward and outward
through unsystematic pathways in space.
He wonders how the trees
choose the holes in space through which
the branches expand.
They are amoeba like,
protoplasm squirts up
through invisible narrow channels in the air.
Call me a humble Knight
who'd dismantle all corruption
in catabolism
watching over you even at night
as our present dark moments
transform through baptism
to what we once enjoyed: The Light!
Shielding you in my structured protoplasm
as I take you all to new heights.
Definitely, I expect criticism
but they should guide our flight.
As we come together to function
like one Organism.
Please listen to me and sit tight.
I'm not here to steal your minds
as in alcoholism
not to cause a campaign fight
cos they may break the Country's nerves
condemning it to a state of National Autism
Your burdens, I'll carry with all my might
and doing otherwise?
I consider Cannibalism.
Still it is possible to have a conscience
Amidst the conscienceless,
Then you're on your own
Good-luck-buddy.
Avaricious protoplasm spins madly out of control
Under an aching sky,
Vapor and dusk.
But that which is rooted in things dead
Drains the living of its intrinsic essence
Devoid of remorse, loathe for sorrow,
There are ties rooted in memory,
Thicker than water, just as ephemeral.
Ties that strangle when no facet of comprehension
Encapsulate tthe ties that bind.
But I am not rooted in things dead
Nor do I wish to die in consideration of the retrospective flight
From sorrow,
As if the mob's approbation or wrath
Ever impelled the wonderment rooted in things beautiful
Engorged in my eyes.
Elixir is elusive,
Imagine the crystalline, transparent and clear elixir,
Nowhere to be found,
It can do something that rejuvenates cells,
Deep inside,
Probably it has chat mode,
With weakened protoplasm,
And nourishes it in some way,
Such rejuvenated cells could at least makes you live,
Longer than anybody else,
While dying they would call you immortal,
Yes, where is that miracle liquid?
I wish you had some stock of it,
So that I could live longer,
Let me stop here and think,
Is my present longevity less,
Is it not better that I get a new body apparatus,
Do I want to continue with jaded circumstances?
Am I not looking for new?
Thinking hard,
I discover that elixir is within me,
I had my stock,
Now that I have depleted it,
I am looking to buy more on the block.
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