Book Jacket

 

rank 5854
word count 13326
date submitted 30.09.2009
date updated 30.09.2009
genres: Harper True Life
classification: moderate
complete

Life Poems

Brian Daunter

Every day Poems for every day people

 

Theme: Evolution, Birth, life and death Number of words: 6000; Ten Sections; 100 poems; 60 pages Market Segment: Every day poems for every-day people. Motivation: To write poems about life that the reader can relate to and understand. CONTENTS PAGE 1 BIRTH 2 2 GROWING UP 9 3 ADULT 16 4 LIFE 23 5 LOVE 30 6 WAR 35 7 LOST 38 8 FOUND 44 9 AGE 48 10 DEATH 52

 
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BIRTH


 

Genesis

 

 

The baton raised the cosmic chorus ready to ring out.  

The baton weaves,                                                                                                         

sweeps,                                                                                                

nebulous gases in a silent roar are formed,                                    

 join the weaving may pole dance. 

Gases collese,                                                                                   

condense into place,

        form solid forms,                                                                                  spin off into space.

                          

The baton weaves and sweeps once more to put colours into place, 

              conducts the rise of a setting sun and gives the moon a face.

Not too close quick Silver Star,

  but the cartoon dog is to far.

 

The Earth now in the right place receives its specific measure,  

shafts of light the summer sun,

life’s one constant virgin treasure.

 

But come,                                                                                              

let us leave the Earth,                                                                              

               flick the war lord across the universe,         

dance on Saturn’s rings.

                          

Release the moons of Jupiter from their bondage,

fling them through black holes.                                        

Move the Sun to another place.                                 

Then give Quick Silver Star to near and Cartoon Dog to far,                                                                                                          a chance to start anther life-form race.                                                                

 

 

 

 

 

 


 
Evolution

 

 

                             When wild fowl did  glide,                                                                                     

                                          the whale did walk,

                                          volcanic ash still spouted and poured.

                             Immortalized; fossilized, sulphur encrusted trees.                    

                                          Autumn comes but there is no rustle of leaves.

 

                             The Earth with an ever-changing face,                                                                 

                                           preparing for the next act,                                                                                                  

                                          the human race.

 

                             Thus upon the sand upon the shores,                                                                          

                                          creatures stare- crawl large and small.

                             Get off your stomach shake of the sea,                                                                             

                                           for  the tide of time has turned,                                                                                            

                                          the cry rings out evolve once more.

 

                             So from the sea I come,                                                                                                        

                                          with arms outstretched sea-weed clad,                                     

                                          strolled along the shore.

                             Listening to the call.

 

                             To the land,                                                                                             
 
                                          to the air,                                                                                                                                  
 
                                          to the far corners of the universe,                                              
 
                                          extend in expanding spheres of thoughts and deeds.
 
                                
 
                                  Yet it matters not if we fail,                                                                
 
                                           for upon the sand,                                                                         
 
                                          upon the shore,                                                                                                        
 
                                          to the sea to await time and chance,
 
                                          once more.
 

 

 

 


 

Accident
 

 

Evolution in its simplest sense consists
 
of slime and gore
 
Fermenting in a tropical bog where feet
 
have not trodden before.
 
From this primeval soup frogs fish and
 
newts emerged.
 
And as the ferment gurgled with glee a
 
bowler hat housing a chimpanzee,
 
turned the tap off.
 

 

 

 

Creation

 

 

                       When the earth was still in its molten state, 

                                          land and sea of common mass,
 
              screaming souls begged to be cast.

                            The universe in its uncompleted form,
 
              the dividing line not yet drawn.

                            Surely man was born.
 

 

 

 

 

 

Mistake
 
 

 

In times long ago,
 
              long since passed,
 
              when man was not a man.

But locked in the evolutionary tide,
 
              many eons to span.
 
As if from a long deep sleep too soon awoke,
 
              to carve his destiny began.
 
Perhaps he should have gone back to sleep,
 
              awoke when he was a man.
 

 

 

 

 

 

Genetics

 

 

Hark,                                                                                                                                    
 
         hark,                                                                                           
 
         ducks do bark,                                                                                         
 
           dogs quack with glee.                                    The chickens meow,                                                                           
 
         hens eat fish,
 
         cats scratch for corn in the barn yard sea. Pigs give milk,                                                                               
 
         graze under a bacon tree.
 
While the juggling geneticist cries,                                                                               
 
Mendel Who!!
 

 

 

 

DNA Grease Spot
 

 

There is a spot upon my shirt,

              is it grease or is it dirt.
 
                             
 
It is grease,                                                                                                
 
              I can see,                                                                                                   
 
        but is it from an animal or is it from me.
 
It does not smell like me,                                                                     
 
              such grease I do not produce.                                                                  It’s from my last meal I did consume,                                             
 
              dropped animal grease from my spoon.
 

What meal was that now,                                                                          
 
              I think it was Ox Tail Soup some how.                                                  
 

Is the Ox still alive,                                                                              
 
              tailless,                                                                                          
 
              tormented by flies,                                                                                               
 
              or did they use the rest of the beast,                                                    
 
              grinned it up and made mince meat.
 

 
Will it be in the pie I buy tomorrow,                                                          
 
              will I hear it’s  cry of sorrow,                                                                 
 
              will another grease spot I sustain,                                                        
 
              will I feel it’s cry of pain.
 
                     
 
Can I from the grease spots DNA derive?              

Bring the beast back a live. 

 

 

IVF

 

You!

Mortal man come look at your old forgotten toy, 

              see yourself in miniature with a primitive mind.
 

 
See what happens when an experiment you leave behind. 

Begun unfinished,

              yet its day is done.
 

 
Still there are more specks of dust than you know what to do, 

              so create more miniatures  just like you.

Lets give them all primitive minds.

Begun unfinished.
 
               
 

 

 

 

 

 

 
Conversational  Grub

 

 

I told you this land is an apple in a giants hand,

                                          and you are a grub that has crawled out,

                                          what would you say.

 

                            What would I say.

                                          I would say that you are mad an have you taken away.

 

                            Then I will not tell you so,

                                          you mindless grub.

                            I will just eat you instead.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

Last  of  The  Gods
 

 

Let me spread myself upon the cosmic winds
 
               for my time of departure has long since past.  I should have left with Homers Gods,                                                                        
 
              when Athena was in my grasp.
 

But I was held back by my own vanity,                                                                      
 
              sustained by mans bent knee.

For this knowledge and wisdom from me,                                                                              
 
              to him did pass.
 

 
But this creature of greed,                                                                   
 
              this impossible beast,                                                                             
 
              produced me in a technological form.
 

 
A vote was taken and I was cast,
 
              cast out.

Imprisoned.
 
Like Zutec  behind a time locked door.
 

 

 

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Hypo99 wrote 1036 days ago

I like theses stories. They always draw me in, and this one really drew me in. This is truly wonderful.

BACKED INDEED.

Hope you get the chance to peek inside The Russian hat.

warm wishes
Brendan

Silent Storm wrote 1046 days ago

Battle Knyght:


"Silent Storm" is a totally different story, with a totally different message.

Ida L. (Silent Storm)

SusieGulick wrote 1092 days ago

#5 backed :)

Rachel Medhurst wrote 1328 days ago

Love these poems, have read a few, my fac so far is beach, tea time and bottom of my garden!
They are very different which I like...looking forward to reading more. So glad to have a fellow poet on Authonomy :)

Battle Knyght wrote 1330 days ago

Your ******* upload software has ****** up again.
Please don't leave comments or messages about editing; tell it to the Authonomy contact team.

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