Short Specimens Poems

There is more than one kind of pumpkin seed.
One can be eaten, the other does feed.
A red dotted fish.
Or squash with a wish.
Both handsome specimens of nature indeed....

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Broken in circles,
this
spiral
down.

A remnant, 
a relic,
valid.

A black mass,
in vacuums,
incision.

Specimens,
cultured.

Future calling,
sleep,
docile now,
humble.

Humanity.

The expectancy of life.
This pregnancy of hope....

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Young she ...
         young he ... teenagers ...
         little mouths of peripheral blood,
         pink cheeks .... sweet perfume ...
         Sweet youth .. enchanted songbirds ...
          beautiful specimens in love ....
          As the God disposes ...!...

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a garden is a work of art
    conceived with gloved, wrinkled hands
  a home for fragrant specimens
    for mists, for rain, for brilliant sun  

  yet when the weather turns, so do blooms
    from rich perfumes to withered tombs
  so clasp tight my hand, retreat indoors
    to dream of sun-splashed greener shores...

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The dream wanders far afield,
in search of a kindred tribe
that to cynics does not yield,
by princely sums not bribed. 

Far and wide, it sees many a face
that it can scarce recognize,
specimens of a hybrid race
born of wanton compromise. 

Oh where can it be, it wonders,
the kinship my heart craves. 
As the sky dims and thunders, 
it stumbles upon rows of graves....

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Centralised survailance, concrete division,
Altered states or pre-determined road.
Eyes are plenty, our voluntary will,
Concrete specimens of men, perfection of the imperfect.

Das Uber-mensch, learned, ingrained wish,
Whether body or mind, the image haunts.
Fallable or diseased? Where is the harmony in shared breath?

Walk in line, worship the 1%, nanny's eye will act as guide....

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The only game to be found was one tiny runt
Goddess Diana was sent by the gods to help with the hunt
The forest was amazed at her animal power
She unleashed cumulus clouds who brought down a shower
During the storm beasts came tr to the meadow
Many fabulous specimens were leveled by bow
Can you come again soon? Asked a hunter named Todd.
I think you can do it yourself, Diana said. Thinking his request odd....

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The heavens hold the stars
The eyes of gods shine brite
Watching their creation below
Once worshiped, now a fading light.
From creation born
Their power still great
Their worlds have changed
Subjects turn to science.
What numbers cant answer
Religion holds the key.
For our lives are still theirs
Till new worlds form
And their worship restored,
As sure as stars in their space
New specimens will admire
At the beauty, at the grace....

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You may think it's unique
That it's just
happened to you
at the moment

But it has all been done before
Anything that you imagine
has already taken place
It's nothing knew

It may seem
like it's a catastrophe
or that it's the greatest
thing that ever occurred

This is just an illusion
an illumination of discrepancies
fostered by time and space
bolstered by the relevancies

of disinterested specimens
that circulate through
the time portals
of everyday situations...

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