Tuesday, 23 April 2019
Thursday, 21 March 2019
Mammas and Pappas.
If they feared the future,
would they birth you?
Would we greet you with mirth
as your head reaches the girth
of Mamma's vagina,
Pappa proud beside her?
Did they fear for your future,
or perhaps their
at the very least.
Monday, 25 February 2019
If we left the communication to the communicators,
Get involved, by all means, but -
The fascinating story of life,
So how do we tell it so badly?
So badly that hardly anyone even reads half the papers that are written about it anyway.
Even science doesn’t care about science.
Hey, Dr. Scientist!
...some sci-fi at a stretch…
Be damned if you dare even suggest, nevermind share, an innocently left handed DNA helix.
All the while, little Felix
Creationism is sold as science.
Conspiracies are reached down lines of loose
Science cannot hide behind science
How do we suppose
But we’re never going to change that
Us and them,
So where do we start?
A picture tells a thousand words,
Stephen Hawking condensed the universe
The beauty in nature can be explained
And whether intrinsic or learned
fine and fair.
With art we can open doors,
Bio at home,
PhDs, though oversubscribed
Science, like the world
Bio by design,
To stifling institutions,
Engaged and engaging;
No-one knows what they want
Except for those of us
Who hope, more in vain than despair,
That Spain might invade Gibraltar
And the whole problem would disappear
In the foggy fever of war.
And what's been revealed
From this monumental shart?
An imbecilic political elite,
Opposed by a wet paper bag
Against an undercurrent of bigotry
And mass neuronal redundance
The likes of which might justly cause
Brains to spontaneously combust in protest.
About as robust as an Italian road bridge,
May's knights of a three-legged table
Stand aghast, as Boris cackles,
Watching it teeter with the saw in hand,
And Juncker spanks May with the leg,
Tusk and all.
not easily ascribed to a scientist,
Any man in need
of an insight into mansplaining
need only utter
a fluttering thought,
reasoned as it may be,
in the presence of a man
with a PhD.
the pursuit of the uncertain.
certain that they know it all.
Troy will fall,
brains in balls.
it puts a certain
Easy, so it is,
what feels like
a modern day calamity
but to absorb
a ship churned in belligerent waters,
waves high above the bow and stern,
unable yet to return
to passages clearer,
a hopeless dredgery
channeled within a channel;
no space to turn,
the only way forward, now,
to dig the hole
Sunday, 24 February 2019
And there they descend, one and all,
to rob me of my wits,
defenceless, against their witlessness,
driven up the sea life aquarium wall.
And there they flash, despite the wall's
clear sign. Splash! The turtle's wits
vanished along with mine. What line?
Oh, don't mind me, barge right on in.
And yet they may descend, one and all,
equipped with voting slips
in hand, despite their lacking wits,
I stand idly by, lamenting it all.
Why? Is it legal for them to vote,
but I am prohibited
from punching each of them in the head?
There's nothing in there to damage of note.
And so they descend, one and all,
my redundant fists
quivering, yet listlessly,
clenched into unsatiated balls.