Wading For It

Standard

Beware of any oasis,

because nowhere in this world of oddities,

will you cross the same river twice.

Try, try, try, as you might,

leaning into the current,

cannot bring you to the past-

grasping for the rain drops,

will not help you

stand steady and weather a storm.

No matter how torn,

you may feel,

there are times you must leave it all behind,

you’ll know it when you see it.

But so be it,

and fear not,

you never have to leave green pastures,

if you can bring them with you,

in tempests and torrents,

deserts, meadows, canyons, summits.

So long as you’re still going,

you are always exactly

where you need to be.

If you’re a fish out of water,

I really hope you’re a mudskipper.

Omissions

Standard

Without “you,”

the phrase “you don’t talk to me anymore”

demands an entirely different kind

of response.

“All you can eat, kids free”

Lacks some needed nuance,

Without the comma.

Although synonymous

An “I don’t know,”

Can create a lot less drama,

Than a shrug and a grunt.

Just one tiny piece in a conversation

Is key

In understanding

Misinformation.

You may fill in the blanks,

With what you want to see,

Or miss the forest for the trees,

In making assumptions.

Sometimes you can say everything

You need to say

By not saying anything.

Plasmids

Standard

Genes generated,

as standalone

updates and patches,

to be mixed-and-matched,

and exchanged among clones.

“Enclosed,

you will find,

my latest experiment.

After tinkering with my code,

I’ve increased recalcitrance,

By twofold.”

You scratch my back,

I’ll scratch yours.

Even bacteria

can do business,

they innovate,

compete,

consume,

and coordinate,

under our noses.

You’d be Surprised

Standard

At the open-air bazaar of ideas hangs

A smog of apocrypha,

So thick,

You could bottle it,

For any one eager and gullible enough,

To buy.

Yet filtering the miasma,

Of misinformation,

For its kernels of truth,

Shows how easy it is,

For certainty to be crowded-out

by lies.

It covers your face,

With thick soot,

The smell lingers

And stains your clothes-

The gasses

will burn your eyes.

But just because the truth is scarce,

Does not mean it’s not worth the trouble,

Of uncovering-

Keep your hazmat suit handy,

And your goggles on.

Prospecting is a hard days work,

For little pay,

But, nevertheless,

You will find it enriching

If you see it through.

Planned Obsolescence

Standard

You can put lipstick on a pig,

but at the end of the day,

the shade may just go out of style,

because of controversey

over animal-testing.

I’m telling you this,

on perhaps the most important invention

of our time,

using architecture and infrastructure,

built by brilliant minds

and billions of tax dollars-

that is being sold back to you monthly,

bundled with cable TV and a landline,

that serve as expensive

background noise,

A smartphone accomplishes all of this,

Just don’t let it shatter, bend or explode.

Cars these days,

are safer than ever before,

because fender-benders,

smash their plastic bumpers,

spiderweb-crack their Plexiglas,

and collapse their every crumple zone,

like an empty tissue box,

to be thrown in the trash,

and left out on the curb every Tuesday.

It’s very hard

To practice what you preach,

When screaming,

“Waste not want not,”

While standing at the summit,

Of your own personal

massive garbage heap.

Troubleshooting

Standard

After a few quick scans

I’ve found it in myself

to put together a damage estimation,

And hold in my hands,

Some summons, subpoenas and citations.

*Ahem*

Cracked two teeth on prickly pear pits,

From breakfast,

Scuffed-up my running shoes which didn’t fit,

3 toes stubbed,

Forearms covered in thorns,

From when I tripped into the shrubs.

Bumps on my crown,

From fallen acorns,

During the post workout cool-down.

And bruised shins,

I think I just woke up with.

Would plead no contest,

But won’t bother showing up to my court date.

I am,

Henceforth,

Placing myself on house arrest,

As my own harshest critic,

Judge, jury and executioner.

Spanish Moss

Image

I’m an acrobat,

Amongst the arches,

Along your branches.

I’m airborne,

It just looks like I’m slipping through,

But trust me,

I will stay with you,

Sway with you,

If you don’t mind it.

Sorry about the bugs,

They seem to like me,

I’m a little scraggly,

Looking a bit worn.

I’ll keep you warm,

But not smothered,

You scratch my back,

I’ll keep yours covered.

Vestigial Structures

Standard

Long ago my ancestors left the trees 

with their tailbones tucked between their legs,

and they turned out fine.

Snakes did the same

And grew out their spines,

More than I could ever hope to,

Lost some things along the way

And are still with us today.

Who needs tonsils anyway?

Consult the appendix,

All you like,

You won’t find a good reason.

“All these pieces of me,

From yesteryear,

Are still here,”

I said, getting goosebumps.

If my flaws make me human,

Then what about the leftovers,

From when I definitely wasn’t?

In doing what it takes to survive,

You cannot afford,

To go back to the drawing board,

And you can’t correct the record,

When your body is the archive.

Lichen

Standard

Complementary cooperation,

is part and parcel,

with survival

in this world.

There is space for you here

with me,

even if we look different from each other,

and come from separate 

walks of life.

In times of strife,

Keep me company,

And give me cover,

So I can give unto you,

The bounty the Sun provides,

With no expectation

Of reciprocation.

From our closeness,

Comes sacred symbiosis,

So that,

In sum,

We are more

Than one another.

Brood Parasites

Standard

The tools of the trade:

Cryptic plumage,

Hawkish mannerisms,

And a steady supply,

Of child soldiers.

The cuckoo lies in wait,

Standing stealthily,

Avoiding strife,

With her victim’s eventual lapse,

She strikes.

Though they care not for their neighbors,

They do have a knack,

For finding babysitters,

Despite their reputation,

As impolite guests.

The screaming chick,

Sounds like the clutch,

Of hungry children,

It jettisoned.

On the other hand,

In the other hemisphere,

The cowbird makes little effort,

To make its egg inconspicuous,

Instead it relies on mob mentality.

The mom pays a visit,

To her nest of choice,

Which will be destroyed,

At the first sign of resistance,

To their alimony.

If there’s any acrimony,

It isn’t apparent,

As the often very different parent,

Raises the imposter.

————————–

IMAGE CREDITS: 

https://www.rspb.org.uk/birds-and-wildlife/bird-and-wildlife-guides/bird-a-z/c/cuckoo/

http://jasonking.net/site/brown-headed-cowbird/

Like my Facebook page to find out when I post new poems!