Short Under A Microscope Poems
Short Under A Microscope Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Under A Microscope by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Under A Microscope by length and keyword.
You micro manage our performance
Like germs under a microscope
Always watching probing controlling
We are never free but nor are you
All of us are observed from afar
TO COPE
In the darkest moment, we still the light of hope
Are you going to use our telescope
Life is under a microscope
Nothing we can deal, nothing we can cope
Tr?n Minh Hi?n Hien Tran Orlando November 24, 2016
It twists and coils
under a microscope
double stranded
the dance of life
in genetic code
dense with mystery
replicating sequences
promising secrets ~
in essence of identity
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology ~SUNSETTING WHISPERS~ 2020
AP: 3rd place 2022
Each trouble that Man creates
Always, comes back him to haunt
If he keeps hurting nature
Nature, for long will him daunt!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
20 March 2021
* Scientists examined a snowflake under a microscope and
found out it was filled with microparticles of plastic!
Strands of hair under a microscope
In different shapes and hues
They twirl and swirl elegantly
Exuding dainty graceful poise
Culminating in stretched flexible splits.
Under a microscope they dance for joy.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Visual # 1 ~ 4th June 2016
Contest: The Best of 6
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Are we not already
an Alien Species
only 10% human
home and host to
many foreign colonies?
Yet we thrive
ignoring differences
under a microscope
quite complex and
astounding
To my point
appearance, space and time
are the more and less of
body and mind~ the factual
but not the actual, experience
more truth than any of our physical
fictions
I see you
Stealing glances
From the corners of your eyes
I see you
Staring through closed eyelids
When I'm looking the other way
I see you
Not your body
Not your movements
I see you
Not your gestures
Not the armor you wear
I see you
Like a single cell
Under a microscope
I see you
Without my eyes
In the darkest dark
I see you
With my heart
I know you see me too.
United States had the power and respect
Now I believe we’re being
Laughed at and ridiculed
What happened?
What started out as a
Innocent election
Has been blown to hell
ering parties separated by
The whose and the whats
It really looks bad for us and
You wonder who can you trust
Clashes in the city streets has
The whole country off balance
An on edge
While this country is being watched and
Put under a microscope
With three arms and three legs,
a face that's disfigured and small,
he crouches compliant
and strokes his electrodes.
The men in white lab coats are laughing.
They treat him just like an amoeba,
poking and prodding his body
with needles and probes.
A subject for scrutiny under a microscope,
there's no humanity fueling his bones, he's bizarre.
Bioethicists say: 'He's a man with a soul!'
but what price a soul if you're born in a jar?
With four arms and four legs,
a face that's disfigured and small,
he crouches compliant
and strokes the electrodes.
The men in white lab coats are smiling.
They treat him just like an amoeba,
poking and prodding his body
with needles and probes.
A subject for scrutiny under a microscope,
no humanity fueling his bones, he's bizarre.
Bioethicists say: 'He's a man with a soul!'
but what price a soul if you're born in a jar?
With three arms and four legs,
a face that's disfigured and small,
he crouches compliant
and strokes the electrodes.
The men in white lab coats are smiling.
They treat him just like an amoeba,
poking and prodding his body
with needles and probes.
A subject for scrutiny under a microscope,
there's no humanity fueling his bones, he's bizarre.
Bioethicists say: 'He's a man with a soul!'
but what price a soul if you're born in a jar?
With three arms and three legs,
a face that's disfigured and small,
he crouches compliant
and strokes the electrodes.
The men in white lab coats are smiling.
They treat him just like an amoeba,
poking and prodding his body
with needles and probes.
A subject for scrutiny under a microscope,
there's no humanity fueling his bones, he's bizarre.
Bioethicists say: 'He's a man with a soul!'
but what price a soul if you're born in a jar?
With three arms and three legs,
a face that's disfigured and small,
he crouches compliant
and strokes his electrodes.
The men in white lab coats are smiling.
They treat him just like an amoeba,
poking and prodding his body
with needles and probes.
A subject for scrutiny under a microscope,
there's no humanity fueling his bones, he's bizarre.
Bioethicists say: 'He's a man with a soul!'
but what price a soul if you're born in a jar?
I looked at a drop of my blood under a microscope
It was a mistake. I should have not looked;
I should never have looked so close at myself.
I was not red but gray, and I was but globs of gray
and I- the bland globs had corners, imperfections
and the imperfections had imperfections
and I was not whole,
these globs, of me, were held apart from each other
I could see nothing between them--
I was as tiny moons –
lost in a vast cosmos--
cold and empty.