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Posts tagged ‘Poetry’

Skull and Mask


The noxious air engulfs my hollow chest

And inner pain denies my wish to rest

My vision cries

Of ebon skies

The mask I don has fused into my skull

I’m blind, I’m deaf, I’m mute, my life is null.


The Evils of Pollution

The eyes of the lantern had torn through the night
By the strength of the light
Twas clear that my path ended far out of sight.

I could see my surroundings quite clearly.
I could see all the evil too clearly.

The grass to my sides were afflicted with blight
Thus derailing my might
And filling my insides with malice and spite.


Well, I put my head down on a book.  And then I was thinking about lights.  And then the first line of that poem came to me, and I opened up notepad and broke out a few rhymes.

The general theme is someone walking down a path at night.  With a lantern.  The lantern lights up everything in the vicinity, and it is clear to the subject that the end of the path is far out of sight.  Then, the subject looks around the path and sees the plants dying which negatively affects the will of the subject to follow along the path, instead causing the subject to seek out revenge on those who dared pollute the path.

It could definitely be a metaphor for something.  Like, if instead of just a path, it were a sidewalk, I’d be compelled to get revenge on those who litter.


A word on the middle part.  Just a thought.  I feel like alternating a pyyhus [i could] and a spondee [SEE MY/ALL] foot causes a sense of unrest in the reader.  Like opening a closet door in a dark room at midnight.  For example,

i could HEAR ALL
and their FOOTSTEPS
getting TOO CLOSE

Poem About Storm

The lights on the ceiling all shattered like ice
As the room fell to dark
The only light shone from the eyes of the cats.

The storm winds were howling outside in the night
And the sound of the hail
Struck fear in my heart for I knew I was done.

(The) Darkness outside found a way in my soul
(And) In there the lightning was tearing a hole.

There was a huge storm that was sweeping across the nation to the east.  Many people lost power.  There was a lot of wind.  There was darkness and lightning, at the same time.

Blood Poem Part 2 Finis

Continued from the post titled Blood, we follow Bob (AB+) in his journey through O-type blood.  Getting rejected by Zoe was only the beginning of the hardships he would face.

The last sentence was:

And Zoe looked at Bob and said, “You’re not my type” — We pick up the poetry from here


So Bob then said that, “I can change!”

“A, B, and O can blood types range!”

“I shall thus rid these antigens”

“So to avoid the pathogens.”

Zoe, offended, sharply said

“Pathogens are not your dread”

“Antibodies — what they are”

“And they will chase you near and far”


Bob was being chased by B, A, and D antibodies.  One could say he was in a BAD situation.  You know, when I think of antibodies latching onto a red blood cell now, I think of this:

But that is totally unrelated to this story.  The similar names are just a coincidence.


Exasperated, Bob exclaimed

“Oh dear, I wish not to be maimed!”

At this fool was Zoe much ticked

“They do not maim, they only stick!”

And then Bob was all like “Oh”

“Then I fear them not, dear Zoe”

He reach-ed out an antigen

And touched the Type-A pathogen.

The A-Type antibody clung

“It does not hurt!”, so Bob had sung

And Zoe was laughing all the while.

Heedless, Bob kept on his smile.

Thus the antibody bound

Itself to antigenic ground

Then it spied another cell,

AB+ Commence the hell

The antibody lurched one way

Bob, surprised, could just say “Hey!”

The other cell, his name has Rob

And just by chance, he had known Bob

Two sworn enemies, they were

Now approaching in a blur

Antibody fastened tight

Unto Rob, time for a fight

But then the fight was interrupted

Cell membranes had been corrupted

Agglutination had occurred

And death could now have been inferred

The moral is that AB+

Transfused to O will cause a fuss.

For adventure, do not yearn.

Or death will be a lesson learned.




I would also like to take a moment to say that iambic quadrameter can defenestrate iambic pentameter any day.

The foremost reason for this is that there is a saying somewhere that the maximum number of syllables clearly sayable in one breath is 17 (this has something to do with haikus being a sum of 17 syllables).  Two pentameter lines make 20 syllables, an awkward vocalization.  Two quadrameter lines, on the other hand… 16 syllables is much more comforting.  The problem is that if a breath is taken between line pair, the rhyme is forgotten.  Quadrameter allows rhymes to be emphasized.  Iambic quadrameter is awesome.

Now that the blood poem story is done, time to move on to other things… like the Blood Type Conglobulation simulation.  It will be colorful.  More colorful than this:


Using an incomplete Chromomancy engine, a totally different side project was made that has nothing to do with fractals or dots.  It is called Blood.

It is a metaphorical microscopic view of blood.  There is a border, and credit goes to “DanDaBear” for that and I own no rights to the picture and all that legal stuff.

More importantly, there, in the yellowish plasma (different kind of plasma than the one in Chromomancy), are a number of red circles.  Those are red blood cells.  They move around.  That is all there is so far.

But just to keep my mind clear, I’m going to list all the features I plan to have in this project in order of implementation.

1.  Different Blood Types

2. Mixing different blood types.

3.  Blood conglobulation (that word sounds much cooler than agglutination).

4. Sound effects.

5. Background music that may or may not relate in an obscure way to Angora Rabbits.


Now, some poetry!

Once upon a time, there was a Red Blood Cell. Its name was Bob.

Blood Cell Bob was AB+

And life was boring, no big fuss

For adventure, Bob had yearned

And so he’ll have a lesson learned.

All Bob wanted was to meet

Another cell, an O to greet.

Foolish Bob had left his home

In other blood, he will now roam

Searching for a friendly O

He finally found a blood cell, Zoe

In excitement, Bob had spoke

In hopes his poem could invoke.

Shall I compare thee to a red balloon?

Thou art more mobile and more beautiful

Rough winds do shake balloons awry at noon,

And Helium lack color plentiful.

Sometime too bright the dye of plastic shows

And often is the red complexion dead

And every fair from fair malady grows

By chance, or nature’s changing course, unsaid

But thy eternal redness shall not dud

Nor lose possession of that fair thou O’est

Nor shall Death brag thou wander’st in his blood

When in eternal veins to blood thou flowest

So long as cells are red, or veins are blue

So long lives this, and this gives life to you.

And Zoe looked at Bob and said, “You’re not my type”.

Poor Bob 😦

Shakespeare is probably shouting profanity at me for making such a mess of his sonnet.

Medical Renaissance Poems #3-6

3 Double Dactyls about some important people.


Higgedly Piggedly
Leonardo Da Vinci
Dissected the people
And made detailed drawings.

his specialization,
Improved understanding
Of organs and systems.

Higgedly Piggedly
Andreas Vesalius
He also dissected
And made discoveries

The system he studied:
His findings included
Some semilunar valves.

Higgedly Piggedly
Doctor Willy Harvey
What he wrote about was
Circulation of blood

Outright contradicted
theories made by Galen
And said all blood was one.

Medical Renaissance Poem #2

Three people were the source of this knowledge
Vinci, Vesalius, and Harvey, all fledged
In the field of anatomy.
Legal dissections, law decree
Thus, surgical procedures gained an edge.

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