life science

Siphonophore

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Wheels within wheels,

interlocked

eyes that dot the rims.

10,000 outstretched arms

invite all comers,

wings encircle a glowing and ascendant

body.

From many,

a single entity.

An atomized chorus,

moving in synchrony

without consciousness,

nor dreams nor thoughts.

Order and chaos,

coalesce to form an

improvised symphony.

Each piece,

individual, indivisible

and interdependent,

living communally

serving the whole and

acting in concert.

The being,

older than time,

makes no demands,

states no pleas

only meanders

through darkness.

And we,

looking through our own reflections,

wish we could ask it

what it sees.

Living Fossils

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I am the way

God made me,

nothing more

and nothing less.

We all have our cracks,

yet I am not broken enough

to fix.

I may be stuck in my ways,

only because I know

they work well.

I’m not looking

to be understood.

Things have changed,

new ages

came and went,

but I’m still here,

rock-solid.

Time has told me

only one thing,

that I am well-designed.

To endure

means a lot more

in the long run

than to conquer.

Rarely do I reflect

on what has brought me here,

I know only

how to survive.

“The fish is that last to know

it lives in water.”

Hemocyanin

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You and I

have new blood,

The oxygen we need,

pulled from each breath,

is cradled

in a molecular nest,

and bound in iron:

scarlet Hemoglobin.

But our ancient ancestors,

and the still-living

relics of the copper age,

still hold to

their old ways.

It courses through their veins,

blue

like the patina

on a penny,

that’s seen

better days.

Red blood caught on,

but ours is not the only way.

Our cousins in the deep,

also well-travelled,

use azure Hemocyanin

it still works it’s magic,

just like ours

but matches their lifestyle,

working tirelessly

undaunted by cold,

darkness,

and depth.

Flesh and blood,

follow their own

rhyme and reason,

what falls out of fashion

can often still function,

in the right place,

at the right time

and in the right hands.

Tuatara

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I’m from an ancient bloodline,

patient and pensive,

and to my surprise,

time flies,

regardless of whether or not

you’re having fun.

Everyone I related to

left long ago,

and all that remains

are these fraud lizards,

with my third eye,

I see right through them.

Meanwhile,

here I am,

in exile,

under a rock.

I’m from an ancient bloodline,

strong and tenacious,

I spend my days digging trenches,

eating spiders

and hissing at tourists,

what a complete indignity.

My ancestors,

walked shoulder-to-shoulder

with giants and beasts,

now that there’s finally some room to breathe,

It seems there’s less space for us than ever.

I’m from an ancient bloodline

peaceful and wise,

and for old times sake,

I’d like to revisit the Halcyon days,

and have the sun blocked out once more,

an equal playing field.

Trust me on this,

the world needs it.

Mimivirus

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One-track minded

parasite zombie

ceaselessly wandering-

a quest

for it’s first and final victim.

A connection is made,

and mimivirus loses a part of itself,

to its gracious,

blissfully ignorant amoeba host,

and all seems well.

Yet time drags on,

as it always does,

and new beginnings

take shape.

Their union,

which seemed to be

the start of a beautiful relationship,

evolves into a

one-sided,

ruthlessly efficient,

hostile takeover.

The host

works tirelessly

to support the demands of its

new partner,

specified in its ancient tome-

it’s lengthy genome.

Exhausted

from the hard work of transcribing

the words dictated to it,

by a steady stream of multiplying messengers,

the host,

burns out, falls down,

and breaks open,

it has nothing left to give them.

The host bequeaths unto it’s amoeba brother’s and sister’s,

A horde

of eager virions

ready to march,

leave their marks,

and begin their life’s work.

Their parent would be proud,

of the legacy of destruction,

their progeny

will leave.

Vestigial Structures

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Long ago my ancestors left the trees 

with their tailbones tucked between their legs,

and they turned out fine.

Snakes did the same

And grew out their spines,

More than I could ever hope to,

Lost some things along the way

And are still with us today.

Who needs tonsils anyway?

Consult the appendix,

All you like,

You won’t find a good reason.

“All these pieces of me,

From yesteryear,

Are still here,”

I said, getting goosebumps.

If my flaws make me human,

Then what about the leftovers,

From when I definitely wasn’t?

In doing what it takes to survive,

You cannot afford,

To go back to the drawing board,

And you can’t correct the record,

When your body is the archive.

Lichen

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Complementary cooperation,

is part and parcel,

with survival

in this world.

There is space for you here

with me,

even if we look different from each other,

and come from separate 

walks of life.

In times of strife,

Keep me company,

And give me cover,

So I can give unto you,

The bounty the Sun provides,

With no expectation

Of reciprocation.

From our closeness,

Comes sacred symbiosis,

So that,

In sum,

We are more

Than one another.

ATP

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In trying times,

deep down inside —

you will find that

you are, indeed,

strengthened by division.

To rouse the energy,

to walk to the kitchen,

you must first

burn some molecular bridges.

Not to worry,

it won’t be painful,

the connections themselves,

were tenuous at best.

Throw the planks,

into that churning,

eternally burning,

internal furnace

of yours.

Congratulations,

you have metabolized.

Now you can take action,

or perform mundane tasks,

whichever comes first.