Sunday Whirl – Gene Machines – March 18, 2015

 

“We are survival machines – robot vehicles blindly programmed to preserve the selfish molecules known as genes. This is a truth which still fills me with astonishment.” Richard Dawkins

 

dry rustling leaves
upon a deck in spring
the whole season’s ’bout to bloom
ah – life is in blossom again …

don’t be plagued dear friend
that you were born because of genes
don’t think of it as blasphemy
that monkeys are our kin

why worry if you’re a gene machine
that keeps life’s genes afloat
(I found it more disquieting
to think I was a cell of god)

Richard Dawkins is so eloquent
when he talks of dawning life
but I like his scientific work far more
then his philosophic fluff

I’ll just look at our world and sigh
at the sweet beauty that is life
enjoying this opportunity
to breath in this morning sun

dry rustling leaves turning
pages of scientific books
I’ll not shed a tear
worrying about what is life.
Living is enough!

© G.sk. ‘15

My husband was reading ‘The Selfish Gene’ recently and at one point he says that Richard Dawkins more or less states that since the first gene appeared it has been promoting itself making the process of evolution possible.  Of course the gene has no project or plan … just a constant urge towards survival and because the genes who can reproduce themselves best survive, they organize themselves into various complex organisms which has insured their existence and their reproduction throughout the billions of years since life began on earth – therefore all life is just a complex vehicle for the propagation of said genes. This idea rather sobered the man … “it’s not I who reproduces, but genes!” The sensation I got was that he felt rather used by said genes … but if they’re mindless et al … “Hey!” I said, “in the end, what’s really changed?  We’ve always been gene machines … so what?”

In the final analysis my point of view is … so what?

Whether we are a mass of atoms, molecules, proteins or genes etc. that in no way changes the me that is me.  I was born in the 50s and when I went to school I was introduced to the idea of genes, atoms and the primordial broth that somehow, without rhyme or reason, generated life.  Not having a religious background, I never worried that god wasn’t part of the scheme and I’ve never considered humanity as anything more than a part of the whole thing we call life.   I’ve always been curious though; how did that first spark, that spark that became known as the Big Bang, come about.   I’m not worried about the origin of organic life also because in the end, whether one agrees with this or that theory, we just don’t know how it all began and really, so what, why the flap?

 The Sunday Whirl Wordle Words are: rustling, tear, blasphemy, sweet deck plague, born, dry , monkeys, whole, keep

 

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This post is linked to the Sunday Whirl.

Monday Morning Haiku and Waka – November 24, 2014

 

Transformation collage

Transformation

slow evolution
from seed into red rose hips
moments of perfection

changing moments
a life an age – a world
– evolution

(c) G.s.k. ’14

… and Wind Spirits:

on the sheets* they fly
whispering in tinging song
wind butterflies

wind sprites whisper
through the valley at night –
shaking windows

rippling waves
the Sylphs play on the lake –
sail boats seem to fly

(c) G.s.k. ’14

In sailing, a sheet is a line (rope, cable or chain) used to control the movable corner(s) (clews) of a sail.

Linked to Carpe Diem Haiku Kai

An Angel In The Box – August 13, 2014

An Angel In The Box

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Hidden inside the mystic box
An angel sleeps in purist innocence
Without pretension
Without deceit
Awaiting each man to discover it.

When once we’ve seen its lovely face
We’ll know that we’ve not fallen from grace …
We only live in self-induced ignorance
Believing the angel,
To be extinct.

The innocence of our fellow beasts
Is that they’ve never thought of themselves
As being the perfection of the Universe
But only creatures surviving as best they could.

So let’s look inside the mystic box,
Understand our inner nature at last …
So that we can finally move on,
Taking our instincts into hand
Go outside our box and then,
Walk with our angel in a different land.

N.b. this poem refers to yesterday’s poem, “The March of Evolution

Written for Mindlovesmisery Menagerie

The March of Evolution – August 12, 2014

Keith Haring

from the innocence of angelhood
when humanity had yet to kill with a club
there dawned a thought … and then a word

invention and ingenuity
hallmarked the emerging species
using tools, he changed his fate …

solidarity was born to organize
the cohabitation of the beasts
into one cohesive piece

oligarchy bloomed
so the wise elite could guide
the less inventive sheep

then upon the corpses of evolution:
marriage was created
to regulate mankind’s sexuality …

religion to tie men together
and help curb his instincts
by using abstract rationality …

they invented organized war
to find an outside enemy
to keep the group united …

now they stand – masters of the planet
misguided bands of pompous angels
thinking that the universe was created for them

but inside their souls they’re still
innocent instinctive animals
who can barely curb their passions.

magpie tales statue stamp 185

Free Verse: Nature Of Revolving Doors

Free Verse

Nature of Revolving Doors

Revolving doors
they’re so fascinating
round and round
they go
like a carousel
they’ve taught though
of something
I’d never thought before
that the nature of
revolution
is
In
the revolving door.

No end and no beginning
just a circular spin
you leave off
where you started
around without end
you just go on
replacing
one man’s power
with another’s
this seems to be the destiny
of past great
revolutions.

Now,
just please find for me
a new door for contemplation
I’d like to find
Evolving doors
and
learn
the nature of evolution,
for to my mind
there’s something
useful here…
for I’m sure that
revolutions
just lead
no
where.