A Poet's Notebook: The Curse

The Curse

I was born

Not with a silver spoon in my mouth

Nor with golden rings around my fingers.

I was born with a curse.

A curse that annihilates men,

That causes one to take a detour,

That either mends or breaks things.

To utter a word is to prepare for trouble.

To scribble a letter is to get ready for war.

Wasting saliva gets me nowhere.

An inkblot does nothing better.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: i was born with a curse that can kill more men than the atomic bomb. Written in 2007. Like some of my poems, this one made so much sense back then, too. Right now it still does, but it does make me cringe, too.

A Poet's Notebook: The News Writer in A Biology Class

The News Writer In A Biology Class

The lead:

46 chromosomes were set

To produce one human

After an egg met a sperm.

The said chromosomes contained

Genes that the baby human would inherit

From the mother human

And the father human.

Nine months later,

What used to be microscopic

Became a curly-haired miniature human,

Much to the mother's ecstasy

and the father's fury.

None of the parents have curly hair.

It is, therefore, alleged

That the woman was unfaithful;

That her egg met another man's sperm.

But the man failed to see

The other angle of the story.

Recessive traits were the culprit,

Not the baby's mommy.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this is the kind of humor only I can laugh about. haha. Being a news writer for a student publication gives me headache and pressure. so does being a nursing student. Since I'm a follower of the 'like cures like' principle (lol) I wrote this poem back in 2007.