Monday, July 10, 2017




The Dr. swabbed my cheek
to get my DNA
for medical reasons.
Everyone is doing it! "23 And Me",
and ""...
"Don't you want to know who you are"?

Years ago "Dolly", the white sheep was cloned.
And that was all we heard about it.
The End.
Oh really?
No!  25 species of animals have since been cloned.
So...what if they save specimens of collected DNA
of ours?
Out in a secret, underground bunker,
somewhere deep in a desert.
That's where we are.

Or perhaps put a computer chip inside of us.
Why not?  They now do this to our beloved pets,
to be found when lost.

What if I'm walking down the street, and see "Me"?
A younger version.  Yet, I know it's me.
Shake her hand?  My hand?  Freaky.
How nice to meet me!

Perhaps the scientists are thinking ahead.
For the aftermath of a post- Apocalyptic world.
No people, no animals of any kind survived.
Except "them".
Those with the vials of us.
They have the means to replicate and populate
an empty, deserted world.


Our ink flows into the rivers
where we dip just under the surface
to meet.
A place with no measure of time,
only words that crash over jagged rocks,
sometimes changing the meaning,
as if the flow and current are the translators.

Some get caught on the banks for awhile,
until a storm comes.
Some instinctively know of the waterfall ahead,
and make a chain...
unafraid to fall.

We all meet up in still waters.
And listen to the stories, enchanted soul stories.
I know you, without seeing your face,
without knowing your language,
uncaring of your color.
And you know me too.
Through our words, heart, and Spirit.
Simple shared words.

The ink that flowed into rivers must move.
All rivers lead to the oceans.
So, Dear Poet you might see me on the edge of your ocean
with my heart open, and you will know me.
Recognize my spirit in my words.
You will remember when we dipped under the surface
to meet.

Flow away my friend, for standing waters cannot be read.
because it is dark, stagnant, and unmoving.


Glancing out the window
at the night sky,
I see the glowing eye of the moon.
The clouds are of the purest white and swirling slowly north.
I saw a fluffy kitten crouching at play,
as if reaching for a toy with one paw.
Then I went outside to get a closer look.
Such a rare sight too see so many small clouds,
rolling into "puffs" of something else.

In mere seconds,
The cat was gone...
Appearing next was a devil's face
with short, wind swept hair.
He had one glowing eye,
and was sticking out his pointed tongue.
Morphing still...
I watched,
his mouth opening very slowly,
until teeth appeared.
It was as if he might be growling.
A silent evil growl,
as he seemed to exhale his firy cloud of breath.

The devil face got smaller and smaller,
quickly turning from gorilla to a dinosaur,
swirling, morphing still.
Now into a little girl,
with a fluffy, bobbed haircut
staring wide eyed at me
I turn around when she begins to change.
I don't want to see.

Do I dare look again
in the night sky tonight?
full moon glow, with clouds at play in shadows,
as they do in horror movies.
My eyes
playing tricks on me?
Or maybe
it's no trick
at all.

The "sky" is just  telling a story.

(c) BarbaraSuen


BARBARA SUEN is from Mishawaka, Indiana. in the United States of America. She speaks English, and learned a little Cantonese, and Mandarin through her marriage of her husband, who was from Hong Kong, China. She enjoys writing prose poetry, and has been published in"Soul Fountain" and "The Storyteller" magazines.  She has also been published in several poetry anthologies, of which she is very proud of.   Her dream is to publish her own book of poetry !  Like she tells her children, even now, "it all starts with a vision".  Meeting other Poets online from all over the world is the most enjoyable experience for her.  The "Sharing of words and hearts"!


  1. Excellent poetry. I especially enjoyed, "I'll find you in your words." 23 and me made me giggle and worried me at the same time. Could we be cloned? Probably.

    1. Thanks so much Poet Adam Brown for your comments! No worries on the "cloning" thing. What's better than "One" Adam Brown? A master of Poetry. "Two"! Working twice as fast ! Poet Barbara Suen