Mannequin (Photo credit: Night-thing)

Calculated gestation
Symmetry and symbiosis
We must achieve
Singular mastery
Perfect and precise
The absolute measure of success
In the smooth, opalescent
Texture of their skin

Genetic manipulation
Prometheus weds Frankenstein
And births via cold test tube
A germinated new race
No scar lines betray
Juxtaposition of parts chosen
Just perfect texture
Of their skin

Walking among us
Glorious automatons
Leading us a merry dance
To terrifying, stultifying
Future days
Some small consolation
In this constellation
Of our imminent being
We may all become these craven children
But we will have
Perfect texture
For our skin

Β© Helen Valentina 2013, All Rights Reserved

About Helen

I'm drawn to blogging as a way to share ideas and consider what makes us who we are. Whether it's in our working life or our creativity, expression is a means to connect.
This entry was posted in Earth, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

12 Responses to Texture

  1. What great layers of meaning are contained in these lines Helen. Statements on the nature of man, the future of mankind, I love the use you make of language.

  2. A terrifying thought as a means of alternative procreation. So well put.x

  3. Skye says:

    I have to agree…the way you make the English language dance just amazes me. Well done. πŸ™‚

  4. There is so much science in art, and art in science. πŸ™‚

  5. This is brilliant and terrifying I love it!

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