We are under chemical directivity

they are what we are, you see

DNA winds environment and history

but to us it is a blind mystery


In youth the chemicals

turn our eyes into shape envy

we see things old now differently

when the spiral ladder so decrees

time for that chemical dance; 1,2,3


They find our signature stuffed indifferently

scattered way out in distant Milky Way seas

suitcases floating spectographic identity

islands the same as in you and me


Chemicals have liked to claim a soul

as in love they are able to do so easily

for how has so much exact serendipity

so much perfect compatibility

come into we to be?


Some might say we chemicals

are on our own doubt indefinitely

Ideas, just happening to appear to be

found near hydrogen and oxygen’s

tide bound Mother Sea.


We live in what we call reality

and every part would need to be

purely coincidental culpability

which seems like purest improbability

that formulas would change perfectly

with a puzzle fit to unveil this diversity

all from the same redefined energy.


Chemicals are typing

this tales on-line plea

vibrating string theories

quarky quantum quintessence

M-brane theory

I feel my ego head swells

with idea based encephalopathy.


I dream of friends

in gray simple rain

I am closer to love

when nearest to pain

I am just like you

you have your own name

but how unique are we

we do not type the same?


Words make us as one

but who is it to blame

when a coconut holds its future

its open shell, the rain.