eradication of the new world screw worm began with
stem cell research.Cochliomyia hominivorax the new world screw worm
is a threat to all humanity.
It can undermined the effects of generations
of people across the world. A flesh eating parasite
that only wishes to thrive and survive off
off mammals. Maggots burrow into the sjin of
warm blooded animals. Gene editing and male only lines
Researchers are utilizing genomic resources to
identify genes linked to host-seeking behavior
and sex determination.Scientists at facilities like
the New World Screwworm Program have
developed transgenic, male-only strains of the fly.
This prevents female flies from developing in the
lab and streamlines the release of sterile males.
Biotech Partnerships: Institutions like Texas Biomed
are collaborating with private biotech firms to
develop next-generation biological
suppression technologies.
Line of inquiry: “the essence in us is the same
as the essence of the sun”
Dweller of Our Heart
I can’t hear its crackle or sizzle. What am I?
Swaddled in the all-encompassing wisdom
of light; it burns slow. I develop: a seed to die.
My eyes move as my head spins around the world.
There are only so many spaces my foot will land;
not on the moon; moonbeams in my burnt-orange hair.
Warm-blooded rays reach out and touch; skin to skin.
I illuminate someone else’s countenance with my smile.
My Summer eyes grab hold of theirs; a plum blush.
When Winter comes, I’m far-removed ; housebound.
Still, I will be replaced; it's not me. What are they?
Sipping his warm tasty gnome grog in the snow
We see troll’s size fourteen feet and we laugh at his ugly toe
Why doesn’t he wear shoes or boots someone says.
Too warm blooded me thinks, says my cousin Inez.
The first time I saw you - there -
Sophisticated, warm-blooded,
And for a kiss, you blubbered -
Barbary lipped, presenting the bill.
If I'd snuggle up, you'd cover me in fur.
Coo-ee! A real little nest egg,
Said you had it all laid out -
Liar!
Paid me up the river,
Rule of the rudder,
Waddling off -
As though your feet were webbed.
Then, as the tide ebbed -
More of me bled.
Keep your platitudes, Platypus!
Unique to our souls
By Michelle Morris
22/09/2023
We are not steel
We are not stone
We are made from blood
DNA and bone
We are not plants
We are not animals
We are made to be
Warm-blooded mammals
We are not wood
We are not water
We are created from the Universe
The magic and stardust
We are not clones
We are not drones
We are made as individuals
Unique to our souls
© Michelle Morris, 2023
Warm blooded creatures, yet as the heat of the day retreats, we crave warmth to cosset our souls.
While the moon controls the tides, human flesh being mostly water, becomes ensnared in the heavenly body’s power.
Elements of nature, diametrically opposed yet both compel us in equal measure.
Fire dances, alive, organic, consuming its prey. No two sparks ever behave as twins, always the rogue, the lone wolf. Each lick out for its own gains, taking with it the fuel of life and energy as burnt a thousand suns before.
Water moves en mass, as one, yet each droplet surging alone but toward its one kind.
As a murmuration of birds on the wing, Independant yet intrinsically linked. Each individual yet the whole depends on it.
Still despite all this, I cannot truly explain why our very human nature draws us, lures us, demands of us to take notice, when we see fire or water, these two opposing forces. These two spirits which compete for space though in combination cause steam to rise, obsidian to form and planets to become barren rocks devoid of both. Still, when faced with these two elements we always find time to stop and stare.
dolphins
grey ghosts surf the waves
leaping up in laughing fun ~
gymnasts of the seas
4-12-22
Contest: Wil Animal Haiku
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
Syllables checked: www.howmanysyllables
According to A-Z Animals List, Dolphins are mammals and therefore animals who give live birth, have a spinal column, nurse their young and are warm blooded.
Faces are getting longer,
despite the rosy, wind-scrubbed cheeks
a dripping daylight has lost its flavor.
Tepid Malls un-freeze the warm-blooded,
except for the usual geese in the parking lot
who’ve lost all willpower to migrate.
Murky puddles block-up public restrooms,
clog rumors of any first flush
of coming Spring.
We are patient but twitchy,
fat fog-addled puffer jackets
steam on hallway hooks.
These testing times
demand more attention,
which makes for knitted brows
and longer faces
as heretofore to
mentioned.
The clime without poets is like the soulless desert
Poets drew their dreams in the words of the mind
The morning without poets is like a sunless night.
Without dreams we have nothing to get high
Poets play with dreams and they are cool spy.
Poets bring the sunshine where has no daylight!
Those who are self-sacrificing poets
They are the golden sun in the world.
In the cloudy sky, I'll find that sunlight.
You write so many untold stories
You have so much love in your heart
You're warm-blooded and you're soft.
Sometimes you are calm and reposed
You're smell of flowers and the singing bird
You're shadow of evergreen forest!
Who'd do questions without a poet, who'll answer them?
Who'll think of nature and who'll love it like you.
The world in the evening, let the morning come.
It'll be a disaster anyway, even then here you come again!
A hundred years from now, will I be a fossil
Will geologists discover this warm-blooded morsel
Prey for some creature
But larger and squishier
Like a MacDonald's sweet breakfast waffle
Is passion a warm feeling
or a cold asset?
A uniting vision
or a fragmented virtue?
Or is passion both
mutually held motions
toward
and away from
curious
courageous
contagious active hope
and incapacitating despair?
Is personal knowledge,
consilience of feeling
touch
taste
fragrance
sound
sight
confluence of all sensory receptors?
none dissonantly denied,
co-passionate
when confirmed by even one significant
transparent
vulnerable Other
Or denied,
neglected,
abused,
shot at and down,
defamed,
commodified,
enslaved,
reduced to vacuous utility
of thought
without roots impassioning warm-blooded reality
of feelings.
Could holistically embraced knowledge
grow any virtue less than compassion?
Would wisdom's wealth
promote dispassionate autonomy?
viciously fragmenting crumbs
of former health.
O wintery flake, you’ve not kept me warm.
Your passion promised to never alarm.
Outside, I’m not sold.
My briefs rather cold.
In my frozen breast, swaths of ice free-form.
1/30/2018
When the world gets you down
Just gather some friends
Bring torches and gasoline
Spread the world to paint the town red and black
Just burn and go and no looking back
Char the roads and all in your way
Show what you're made of
Show off your warm blooded nature
Give back the push you were given
Take back all what little you were to live in
Shackle down all your belongings
Raid the towns that push you away
Give back the loathing to those deserving
Fight back before you step back
Be strong enough to quit being a welcome mat
Show the world how strong you can be
Come along and stand by me
I will show you how to retain
Teach yourself how we can remain
Be more then what they want you to be
Whale, you’re warm-blooded,
Killed by cold-hearted humans!
Darwin’s to blame—p’haps?
If I were a painter, no not that kind
But I am kind as I let you crack into a crevice in my warm-blooded heart,
I would pick up those brushes and paint your flesh as a buckskin colt,
and analogy would float
through the chemicals in my mind-- those neurotransmitters, dopamine especially--erecting new memories hard-wiring images of experience-- of a boy who seems to run like like a colt
I see it now dessert sands in a blur off in the distance
I see the the sands billow in storms at the hooves and the scintillating sun outlines the penumbral essence of your radiant form
creating a motion picture of beauty so great, great enough to burst my heart and set fire to the sky
And my temperance will go challenged as I swim in your beauty.
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