Short Hybrids Poems

who designs daisies
who chose white as their color
was it god then

who designs roses
who created their hybrids 
was it gardeners then

who thought manure
who knew flowers would love it
must have been farmers...

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The Woman Who Could Eat Wood & Other Stories is a gathering of dark-serious, funny, and emotional poems/stories showing people, hybrids, and objects born different. In their eyes, and to the normal, they’re born useless to the world – weird outsiders who try to make use of themselves with various degrees of success and failure (some die).  

...

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They were snowy white with streaks of hot flesh
From Holland, of course, hybrids with a fancy name
We other tulips felt plain and boring next to them
Where were they being planted? I stretched to see.

Sighing in relief when I saw they were in the next bed.
It was bad enough I had to share with the morning glories.
And the tiger lilies and the bleeding hearts.
I did not need any more serious competition...

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every plant in her garden grew curiously irregularly wild
developing vines and blossoms unseen on other plants
some of her plants looked like hybrids, for no good reason
We asked about her green thumb and she laughed
I love my garden, she said, my plants know it
I give them leeway, and space to do what they want
They love it that I show my confidence in them
I guess that is why they are curiously irregular and wild.
...

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You say I'm crazy.
I say,
Crazy is in the eye
of the beholder.
You laugh madly;
you must know something I don't.
You dance on magazines
like a puppet.
I parse crosswords 
for knowledge.
Whatever mysteries
coil in your mind
to fill the cracks
and pass for knowing
are hybrids
emptiness has spawned.
I will never know your gods
nor you my demons, but I'm glad:
I don't want you here;
your laughter chills my soul....

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The vampire leaves his crypt in search of blood.
A vegetarian before his death,
But now he’s cursed each night to take a life.

Recalling happy times throughout his life,
(Before another vampire drank his blood),
He wishes he had found eternal death.

He longs to lie beside his wife in death,
As they had lain together in his life -
Then spots a zombie, has to taste her blood…

Now hybrids, bloody deathly friends for life.

For Andrea’s Tritina contest...

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There's consolation in knowing
the rise and fall of angles;
the whorled tempests of
alpha and omega.

Liquid vowels
and hiccuping consonants
curiously curled around
the pith of visions.

Silent expressions
circumcised by dots,
paused by chubby tadpoles
that pollinate fertile thoughts
with deliberate moments.

Hyphenated hybrids
capture imagination
in new-sprung, cursive concepts.

But Oh! How I love
the silent ellipses,
the endless music of

The End......

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Dumb it Down

Date: Mon, Jan 11 2016 at 8:06 AM

He Brew he Hebrew the Seed of Jews
Seasoned the Fruits Sinking in the Truth In Peace with Beetlejuice
Shadows of Noobs
I know the Darkness of the Moon
Revenge of the Fallen Strikes a Noon
I'm Looney like Looney toons on Tunes but I ain't a Toon
Twelve Tribes divided
Jacob to Issac
Israelite Hybrids
Zionist 
Portraying the lost Children Blinded
Here's an Hieroglyphic
Noah to Ham Son of the Egyptians
Shem The Jews...

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If aliens took Neanderthals
And tweaked their little brains
Making them just smart enough
To work with little complaint
The answers to my questions
During this exhausting search for truth
Would be revealed when I look around
And behold the living proof

Like hybrids that man creates
To harvest for our use
Be it vegetable, decorative
Or trees for bearing fruit
The smile that comes to my lips
When I see her from afar
Is knowing that a 'Space Monet"
Created the sweetest smelling flower...

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