I stand your slave, your serf, your servant, Only lifting my head when you speak to me, How in this climate change walloped earth, You can search for the origin of providence, And the chisel-work of evolution, How abiogenesis made the primordial cell, What evolution took to a different level, A different stage. How in
I tweak the idea, like a washed pair of shorts, And spread it on a line, to dry. And as water drips from the khaki cloth, I look at this world of speeding science, So many beautiful ideas, Tweaked in all sorts of angles, Spread on a line for all to see, The fabric of
The long whine of cyclones, in your nasal voice, As you wait for climate change, To come with force, using borrowed names Like El nino and La nina. And you’re just a stooge of the weather, Dancing when the sun lifts and cloud cover is scanty, While you gather your palms together, When the early
We hear of mouse models, lab rats, And Guinea pigs, being used In cutting edge research, to solve the riddles of Cancers, diabetes and cardiovascular diseases. In most cases, you find a narrow lineage Of little furry creatures, with one Or two faulty genes, given a subtle dose Of a little pharmaceutical product or concoction.
Its amazing that oxytocin Is the love hormone, the nurturer The collector, a philanthropic strain in you. Science though is in a compound fix Trying to rationalize love. It is dimension-less Unit free, absent of measurable-forces, Lacks both conjecture and hypothesis Or for that matter proof or conclusion. It is the perfect mystery Like many
Smoking weed is no crime. Smoking coal is though. When a strapping chimney breaks The arctic and Santa Clause with it. And deep in the arctic, there is a fawn With a red nose that will never see a sleigh. When fields of terrestrial lichens Cease to be, and so will the food chains That
There is a lonely leafy tree On the corner of the front yard A legume by the vernacular “Kathrumurunga” Sesbania science tells us And this tree carries a hefty dose Of vitamins and minerals, an elixir of sorts And on top you find the sky branched Out in to moon-lit boulevards So many silver crescents
I grew up thinking that I was the black sheep of my family. I was always in my cousin Missaka’s shadow and it wasn’t easy to come near his shoe size. He was just brilliant. He, until recently, held the record for the highest number of marks obtained at the A/L examination. I on the