Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Äŧül 7d
A Finn-Dorset clone,
Now not the alone.

Born on 5 July in 1996,
She died on Valentine's Day in 2003.

The celebrity sheep she died at the age of six,
Produced not from the common ovine ***.

Somatic Cell Nuclear Transfer created her, read on.

Named after Dolly Parton,
'Coz of her admired *****.

Somatic cells were taken from a sheep's udders,
Extracted not without the sheep's jitters.

This sheep was the donor.

However, these cells were enucleated,
And the enucleated nucleus was handled.

Injected it was into a Finn-Dorset's embryo,
Oh yes, the embryo was without a nucleus.

This sheep was the recipient.

Without a folly, born was Dolly,
Resemble she did the donor.

Not only in its visible phenotype
But also in its invisible genotype.

Differ she did but only in her mitochondrial DNA.

Her birth did open a new portal,
Now pet lovers get their pets cloned.
A poem about something I am probably going to work on for the next three years for my PhD in Animal Biotechnology.

My HP Poem #1777
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Oct 8
Even the second one I shall give to you,
Whether to kindle it or to break it,
It depends entirely on you.
My HP Poem #1776
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Sep 27

If beauty is to be a person, it is you.

Looking at you I feel so young,
Over to my lost years I'm taken,
Visit I do my teenage fantasies,
End the ones never would.

Yes, I float in love with you,
Of ethereal foam is my heart,
Up in the cloud nine, you're mine.
My HP Poem #1775
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Sep 27
Its oil lit up by tiny sparks,
The night lamp in the corner glows.

Its light fills up this room,
The love flower is waiting to bloom.

The noise is from the loom,
Its expression will mute the gloom.
My HP Poem #1774
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Sep 24
The BJP has impressed me,
Welfare is their priority,
They have improved as a political party.

They used to be the capitalist kind,
Completely rightwinger it used to be,
They used to be crony capitalists.

But they have improved,
Their worth they proved,
India administrated by them will be happy.

They have made sacrifices,
Who can forget Shyama Prasad Mukherjee?
Once they know him - they can't.

Who can forget Atal Bihari Vajpayee ji,
Or the living legend, Lal Krishna Advani ji,
Or the fallen soldiers, Sushma ji or Arun ji?

We have many more leaders,
All distinguished in their spirit of Indianness,
Narendra Damodardas Modi, their scion.

They used to be plain capitalists, yes,
But now they are very different,
They are the Left of Right.
India, as a majority, is very happy and positive.

My HP Poem #1773
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Sep 23
Oh my love, you are so youthful,
And you are so beautiful.

Oh my love, you are so exotic,
And you are so energetic.

Oh my love, you are so pretty,
And you are such a cutie.

Marrying you will do good,
Let me be finally blessed.
My HP Poem #1772
©Atul Kaushal
Äŧül Sep 23

Train yourself in the barracks,
Hurry up and become the monster,
Every monstrosity needs a reply.

So they told us in the school,
Only the mission was to bring peace,
Lying to us they were every time,
Daring us to learn armament,
It's so coughing wretched,
Especially weeding out the innocence,
Rising to become what they want us,
Succumbing to the pains we are not.

First, you lock and load,
Edge closer out in the open,
Even the scores with radical Islam,
Low you lie like the predator waiting for its prey.

Targeting the innocent people at times,
Razing their homes to the ground,
Alas, it's a necessary sin we commit,
People we **** are not just terrorists,
Perplexed by the horrors of war,
Even though we get nightmares about it,
Damsels in distress we are not.
Make love, not war.
My HP Poem #1771
©Atul Kaushal
Next page