Earth’s sixth mass extinction has begun, new study confirms


How long before the rhino joins the list? Gerry Zambonini, CC BY-SA
We are currently witnessing the start of a mass extinction event the likes of which have not been seen on Earth for at least 65 million years. This is the alarming finding of a new study published in the journal Science Advances.

The research was designed to determine how human actions over the past 500 years have affected the extinction rates of vertebrates: mammals, fish, birds, reptiles and amphibians. It found a clear signal of elevated species loss which has markedly accelerated over the past couple of hundred years, such that life on Earth is embarking on its sixth greatest extinction event in its 3.5 billion year history.

This latest research was conducted by an international team lead by Gerardo Ceballos of the National Autonomous University of Mexico. Measuring extinction rates is notoriously hard. Recently I reported on some of the fiendishly clever ways such rates have been estimated. These studies are producing profoundly worrying results.

However, there is always the risk that such work overestimates modern extinction rates because they need to make a number of assumptions given the very limited data available. Ceballos and his team wanted to put a floor on these numbers, to establish extinction rates for species that were very conservative, with the understanding that whatever the rate of species lost has actually been, it could not be any lower.

This makes their findings even more significant because even with such conservative estimates they find extinction rates are much, much higher than the background rate of extinction – the rate of species loss in the absence of any human impacts.

Here again, they err on the side of caution. A number of studies have attempted to estimate the background rate of extinction. These have produced upper values of about one out of every million species being lost each year. Using recent work by co-author Anthony Barnosky, they effectively double this background rate and so assume that two out of every million species will disappear through natural causes each year. This should mean that differences between the background and human driven extinction rates will be smaller. But they find that the magnitude of more recent extinctions is so great as to effectively swamp any natural processes.


Cumulative vertebrate species recorded as extinct or extinct in the wild by the IUCN (2012). Dashed black line represents background rate. This is the ‘highly conservative estimate’.  Ceballos et al
Click to enlarge
The “very conservative estimate” of species loss uses International Union of Conservation of Nature data. This contains documented examples of species becoming extinct. They use the same data source to produce the “conservative estimate” which includes known extinct species and those species believed to be extinct or extinct in the wild.

The paper has been published in an open access journal and I would recommend reading it and the accompanying Supplementary Materials. This includes the list of vertebrate species known to have disappeared since the year 1500. The Latin names for these species would be familiar only to specialists, but even the common names are exotic and strange: the Cuban coney, red-bellied gracile, broad-faced potoroo and southern gastric brooding frog.


Farewell, broad-faced potoroo, we hardly knew ye.  John Gould
These particular outer branches of the great tree of life now stop. Some of their remains will be preserved, either as fossils in layers of rocks or glass eyed exhibits in museum cabinets. But the Earth will no longer see them scurry or soar, hear them croak or chirp.

You may wonder to what extent does this matter? Why should we worry if the natural process of extinction is amplified by humans and our expanding industrialised civilisation?

One response to this question essentially points out what the natural world does for us. Whether it’s pollinating our crops, purifying our water, providing fish to eat or fibres to weave, we are dependent on biodiveristy. Ecosystems can only continue to provide things for us if they continue to function in approximately the same way.

The relationship between species diversity and ecosystem function is very complex and not well understood. There may be gradual and reversible decreases in function with decreased biodiversity. There may be effectively no change until a tipping point occurs. The analogy here is popping out rivets from a plane’s wing. The aircraft will fly unimpaired if a few rivets are removed here or there, but to continue to remove rivets is to move the system closer to catastrophic failure.

This latest research tells us what we already knew. Humans have in the space of a few centuries swung a wrecking ball through the Earth’s biosphere. Liquidating biodiversity to produce products and services has an end point. Science is starting to sketch out what that end point could look like but it cannot tell us why to stop before we reach it.

If we regard the Earth as nothing more than a source of resources and a sink for our pollution, if we value other species only in terms of what they can provide to us, then we we will continue to unpick the fabric of life. Remove further rivets from spaceship earth. This not only increases the risk that it will cease to function in the ways that we and future generations will depend on, but can only reduce the complexity and beauty of our home in the cosmos.

Miguel is a boy of mystery. His whole life has been a disturbing whirlpool of broken memories. His home's a train wreck, his family has vanished, his life lays in waist... Since the day Miguel was born, its gone unseen by no one of his sinister and baneful behavior. Miguel's own family could not bare the sight of him. By the age of 9 he had been put up for adoption several times. Along with scaring away any hope of accumulating a friend. Even neighbors felt the need to move through pure gut feeling something wasn't right with this young boy...but why?

   Well, the answer lives with a man named Michael. Michael was Miguel's Father. Michael lived a life searching that in which we all seek, riches, the big house, the life of a celebrity. Given the mere fact Michael was simply a fry cook, his dreams looked distant and impossible to achieve. That being said he was ready for a change, no matter the circumstances... One day, Michael was walking home from work when he stumbled across a woman in the doorway to an abandoned building. Not any ordinary woman, a beautiful woman. Her beauty wasn't like anything he had ever seen before. Her cheeks blushed, her voice could sooth a giant, and her eyes glimmered through the moonlight. Covered head to toe in jewels, in Cashmere, in Prada... The woman without hesitation snatches the attention of Michael. Her voice so soothing, so soft spoken, it's hard to feel anywhere else but in your own paradise simply being in her presence. 
   "Michael..." The woman whispers. 
   "Michael...Follow me." She says.
Michael so drawn to her beauty he obeys without the smallest of responses. Walking through the doorway into the abandoned building still manipulated by her beauty she brings him to a room. This room seems to have been abandoned for years. Torn wallpaper, carpet stripped leaving nothing but broken concrete. Although sitting in the center of the room sits a table and two chairs. 
   "Sit." The woman Says with authority. 
The man obeys taking into consideration this new tone of voice. She sits as well, directly in front of him. 
   "I, know you Michael." She says with a smile. 
   "I've been following you for some time." She continues.
Michael sitting in confusion he remains silent. 
   "Speak not if you must, It's only postponing your destiny Michael." She finishes with another smile. 
   "My, my destiny?" The man asks. 
She continues to smile gazing her beautiful eyes into his for a few moments. 
   "Yes my love. Your destiny. I have arranged something for you that you cannot pass up." 
Michael's life has him in such a deep depression he cant fathom on passing up the words of what seems like an angel. 
   "What do you have in mind?" He quickly Replies. 
   "Simple, whatever you want my love." She Replies. 
Michael Sits in silent for a second Not really understanding what is being presented to him. Although at this time he comes to terms he doesn't care, change is change. 
   "I accept anything you have to offer, beautiful." He replies with confidence. 
   "You, will live from this day forward wealthy. I can supply you with a house and enough money to live comfortably for the rest of your days." She offers. 
   "Is it that easy?" He asks  
   "No, you must in return Inflict my religious beliefs into your first born child." She says. 
Michael, not really sure what that means, accepts her deal, for she seems like an angel of the sky. Well, as for Michael he lives his life as planned, Wealthy, happy, Full of adventure. He even finds himself an amazing girl who he falls in love with. They even get married. Now, however, things get more difficult.

   They find out together they are having a baby boy. Yes, the greatest gift to any man or woman they think is about to happen to them. Michael's wife having no difficulties through the pregnancy goes into labor. After 6 hours of labor Miguel is born. He is healthy as can be. Miguel's mother on the other hand has surprisingly gone into shock. Hemorrhaging Viciously in her brain. She is quickly put into emergency surgery. With her life in danger they begin to operate. She, does not live to see another day. After doing an exam on her body trying to solve what caused her to hemorrhage, they find something very odd. During the birth of Miguel she suffered three broken vertebrates, and her ****** had been severed. Not being able to explain the cause, life goes on. Michael is devastated at the loss of his wife. The visions of raising a baby boy together have been wrecked. As devastating as it was Michael was forced to accept it and continue on, raising Miguel on his own. It wasn't much after Miguel's birth that Michael really started to realize something wasn't right.

   Miguel had no emotions. Although medically they could not find a single thing wrong with him, he still remained motionless. His eyes seemed as a portal to oblivion. No smiles, laughs, or anything. Once again as odd as this was Michael was forced to persevere on his mission to raise Miguel on his own. Until Miguel learned to walk. Once this happened Michael started to get overwhelmed. As his Miguel was a walking nightmare. Miguel had killed three of their animals within a months time. Things were looking to get out of hand. No matter how much Michael tried to discipline him, Miguel did not listen. Michael couldn't get a babysitter to watch him for any longer then a few minutes without scaring them off. The babysitters would leave startled, leaving Michael with responses such as "He won't stop staring at me" or "when he is around me the hair on my neck stands up." Miguel had become such an outrage Michael lost custody of him just two days after his third birthday. Miguel had driven His father to the point of insanity. Michael tried to suffocate Miguel and end this misery once and for all, but he could not. Miguel had grown too strong even by age three.  Everyone hated Michael for it and Miguel was taken from him leaving Michael now in prison. Michael at that point realized that woman was not an angel, but the devil in disguise, soon after he committed suicide. What others don't know is Michael knew something they didn't. Something so evil, so sinister, that it would ruin many more lives to come. More and more the people started to realize something wasn't right. He bounced from home to home, leaving every home in complete disarray. He was the talk of the town. He was referred to as the "Devil's Child" or "Miguel From Hell."

   The city was angered by the boys effect in the community and knew something had to be done. The council knew the boy had to be murdered. If only this same council would have seen it as Michael did, when he did. Things would of never gone so far south. However the town started planning in the dark for their attack. They didn't want the boy to catch any wind of this whatsoever. So one night as he was asleep in his foster bed the city made the building evacuate, quietly. All but Miguel had evacuated the building and at this time they said their prayers and begun. Six men volunteered, to enter the building. Holding rope, gasoline, and faith. They grab the boy holding him down on the bed tying him up. The boy begun to rage, but he wasn't quit strong enough to escape the six men. After tying him up and leaving him inside they lit all four corners of the building at the same time. Watching it burn to the ground. Once they thought it was finally over, the body was never found...

-Joseph B Schneider

Boundless dusk above forsaken intuitions
Stones with ancient seeds
Yet the roots can breathe
The earthly exuberance                                                       ­                       
The naked secret of our song
That manipulates my tounge
Redden from you and I
The contact of our lips
Simulating my hunger for your groin
The nerves of my vertebrates  harbor your weight
As my breast shudder from your touch
Primal delicious desires
I thirst for  the fluids of your flesh

With nurture and greed
I moisten your fingers
Help you find my sensitive  pearl
Relishing the trail of the garden of youth
Primal delicious desires explode in need
Delicate softness of my mystical place
Lifting my body with much response
As my fingers dance, pinch and **** at my peaks
Repeatedly as you   ****** me
I gasp and beg for your caress
I shudder as I chase my wave
Reaching as I whimper into a ******

Simulating my hunger for your groin
Inflaming my pores
I enlarge you ever so slow
Working my hands holding you from behind
One swift lick of your rigid flesh
You pull in a lungful of air
Your hot flesh started to grow
I ease you into my mouth
Circling as you keep the pace
Against me you put me in deep
The sweet taste of you makes me weak
Intense intervals underneath
Between your thighs

Intoxicating the very layers of my juice
I enlarge you once again
Moist and ready
I open my sweetness just for you
As I arch down onto you
Your hands rest on my hips
I begin to feel my flower grow
A whispering rouse escapes from my lungs
We flow inside each another
Deeper in my heat
Your aggressive arousal
Provoking me to quiver
The barrier surrenders to you and I
Vivid blossoms of tranquil harmony
Through the gateway of my womanhood


As you nurish the nutrients you covet for
My protruding pale pink buds
Plump with need
I'd hollow out to place you inside
I'd linger in this universe to pave your delicious desire
As you surrender  pushing me down
You penetrate my mouth once again
As you reclaim my mouth soft and pink

if you listen carefully
to that song that you love
so much so that it brings salt
to your eyelashes
pay attention

stare directly at the sun
or into a projector
displaying a map of canada
and witness it

the luminescence
and every tone and shade
of every chroma
flashing with every blink
the liquid provides
a spectrum unbeknownst
to vertebrates
much like blood for vision

You better kiss me,
your mouth parted and lips
wrecking into the vagabond breath
that escapes from the center of what
I've been talking, and talking, and talking about
all the while you're trying to just shut me up.
So you better kiss me, kiss me
with your hands below my hips
pushing the skin from my bones
and pulling the sins from my mouth
just to spread them on our bodies.
We collide, half-inspired and arching
my back with your hands cupping the dimples
above my tailbone, jumping over my vertebrates,
reaching for my neck to press yourself, harder,
into me. Lights out, sheets to the end of the bed,
I sigh into your ears, XO. Again, and again, and again
gently until I'm bruised and ripened, soft,
pulsing on the verge, releasing our glow
crashing into you, kiss me, kiss me
you better kiss me.

What is it that I'm "in my head"?
The shape of my brain and skull act as a maze through which frequencies are played by the thought constructs which I employ.
It is like every attribute has a string or key which can be played, and every time it is played, it conjures all the processes which that key has encountered before.
Eyes half closed places me in my head, and body sometimes too.
Looking up is paying homage to the sky.
The ability to walk on two legs places humans between earth and heaven, two limbs can reach up, and two limbs touch bottom.
I have no visible tail, only a remnant of one, which makes my movement dependent on just these four limbs.
The head and spine being shared by all vertebrates, means that its sign is more diverse in nature.
Humans have the largest brains compared to the rest of the body.
However, an extra-terrestrial skeleton proved to have a brain/skull even larger than humans.

Consciousness is held much like using all the controls while driving a car: the eyes adjust, pressure in the skull and body is adjusted with muscles, the position of the body, neck, and head is adjusted.
Sounds are drown out or given attention.
The body can be divorced from emotion, virtue, and the universe.
The Self can be divorced from virtue, organization, emotion, and the universe.
Everything in such a state is local.
When things are local, I can only observe the scattering amplitudes.
If the scattering is very low, then the gross or macro-level world is all I see.
But what is different from a chair or sofa and a star or moon?
Both are made from the same universe.
The difference is that one was formed by humans, the other a part of nature.
What makes nature a better object of focus than man-made objects?
The man-made object tends to already have a use while the natural are base elements.
They signify the lowest grade of complexity.
Thus, my body is the lowest grade, the simplest, structure in the local home.
Being simple, it is like a canvas that can be painted, or a quarry from which a rock can be sculpted.

Now I switch to morning mode, which is about waking up and making progress.
But meditation is just as hard waking up as it is staying up sometimes.
I must once again ask the same questions in a new day.
What is consciousness?
Can it really be defined as a particular mechanism?
Wouldn't DNA be the best candidate, and it is made of compounds, which are found with the elements.
Yes, it seems science must switch from a "finding a particle" mode to a global life-form mode.
One which knows that life is a web of different things without any one of which the whole planet would fail.
"Finding a particle" mode has proven to be at the end of its run for finding them, as to find a graviton would prove impossible due to the amount of energy needed that would then create a minature black hole.
It seems like I'm a couch scientist, or a science critic not contributing to the picture.
The "finding a particle" mode is so hard to give up because it has been a part of science for over 100 years, which has shaped what a scientist does, how one thinks too.
However, the "web of life" mode gives a harder picture to deal with: one of thinking about social relationships between and within species and kingdoms.
It means that insight will no longer come from a "gold rush" type mentality of a find, but rather insight gleaned from a cooperative consultative stream of thought.
It takes the center away from the individual and places it on the community and the biosphere.
The biosphere or world civilization perspective takes away a lot of physics needed and instead offers a simpler picture, far simpler.
Now, I ask: how can social groups become more enlightened?
How will personal growth, science, the humanities, and social justice play a role?
How will spirituality, which so often is "other worldly" actually weaken this social structure if it is not focused on the simple practical matters in the "web of life" outlook?
I now see that asking "what is consciousness?", if asked too much, will prove to individualize and hamper people's worldview by placing its concern on minutia.
This "find a particle" view could even be seen as an illness which keeps people from having a more social outlook.
It means giving up the personal glory of the scientist, for the practical glory of the community, of the whole.
Instead, what will cause love to grow and hatred to end?
What will make conversations and interactions become more mature?

Now I turn to the element of virtues, which can be divorced from the human body if its goals are not aligned with them.
Addressing trama and how to cope, or simply depression and anxiety too.
The goal of course being a utopia where all can flourish physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.
We must come to some shared understanding of how society best operates, or else we will keep contending with each other for a millennia.
I feel these shifts occur form injustice and the rally for justice in its wake.
It really comes down to the people in power making decisions today.
To how we treat those who share different beliefs, and how we distinguish from mere differences of opinion from a difference between knowledge and ignorance.
I can see both sides of abortion having good points.
I can see good all the way from a flat tax (like religion) to very high taxes on the wealthy.
I can see the difference from helping poeple survive to helping them thrive and knowing the good sides of both issues.
Moreover, I can see why too much nationalism and too much globalism could both be unjust due to the particular opinions of a mother nation, and the need for global unity.
I can see why adherence to one religion will only work if it is based on love and freedom, for love without freedom is not unconditional.
Meanwhile freedom without love leads to destruction.
However, erasing safety and protection from love and freedom would also lead to disaster.

Where is the balance?
That is what the "web of life" mode needs to deliberate.
This is a slow process.
The willingness of one can only affect others through wisdom not fanaticism in any degree.
What is consciousness?
The highest consciousness is deciding public affairs and interacting with others about public affairs.
Therefore, read, write, interact, and work.
Then reflect again and see how far we have come.

The sun would always come out a little after

                                                                        the mind massacre
                                                                          
                                                                               - follow the monsters-

            i fancy lying on the
hard floor
because it is the only place
where the train of vertebrates in
my spine
can set in its rails.  


                                                               i am a void
                                                               bleeding out oxidised civilisation
                  -holes in my head-
                                                                in a world where colours
                                                                are just fabricated memoirs
                                                                of porcelain filmstrips.
                                                                            

i fear that i am becoming anorexic:
my brain is splattered onto
a tiny plate
                                            -emaciated-
where i maliciously
pick out the
soft and pretty
bits.


My tongue is cancerous,
segregating words into
Pinks' and greys'.        
                                                                                
                                                             my heart has malformed into      
                                                             an ugly blister
                                       -swollen-
                                                              milking saps
                                                              of dismal yesterdays.        

i'm swimming
alone
in an acid bath
of bleach and ice.                                            

                                                      can't find the light
-the light-
                                                       beneath the glass
                                                                                              -the night-
                                                       of the
-decaying-
                                                       chandelier.

Once upon a time flesh was my lover
and I was wrapped in its sturdy density
    held together by the epidermis                      
                    made mobile by                          
                    
         my army of Vertebrates
to stand tall
       and strut
                    when possible.

Vain was the brain
                    the cerebrum conspired with the nerves
                     to move me to its bidding
to walk, to run, to coit


         and afterwards do some grocery shopping
                                    
                     the heart was worse than the brain
in its dramas and insinuations of love

         that made the poor gastrointestinal tract
a home
         to the alien and willowy creatures

                                                      such as butterflies
                  tsk

and I
         am shaken
                             to my very core

all my molars and incisors grinding itself
                             for its beauty is its pain
The brain was betrayed
                  by its own Amygdala he he he

Yes, I remember all the mechanisms working
                                         In their own tiny kingdoms

          serving the benign John or Anna or Sarah

even if it just a simple task of jacking off
                              if you could picture the neurons
                                                            stretching elastic to                    reach

                    that mental part
                                        where both ****** and fear reside.

Still in the end when the earth eats you whole
                    like the predator it really is
all that is left is me


                    bare bones


a proof of greatness or mediocrity
                    stark and irrefutable

                                        even if vanity denies the meaning of my bareness,

by inventing the soul.

Don’t tell me you know me well enough…you don’t know what’s on my mind…you don’t know exactly when and how I breathe out all the frustrations and disappointments that I allowed to debrief my existence.

Don’t state your judgments as you can…you don’t know how detrimental those are…and you have no idea how it allowed yourself to become what I think you are…

Don’t analyze my ways…you can’t be self-complacent that you can dissect me as those vertebrates this world tried to comprehend. I am me…it cannot be analyzed.

I am no other’s canvass, so don’t draw conclusions by a mere sheer glance. You haven’t been in my world. So don’t dissemble to be cognitive of my approaches. Just don’t.

I remember the first night I met you. You greeted me with a smile, and god, that smile could have ended wars.

That same night, you told me that I'm beautiful accompanied by a "good night" text.

The next few weeks of being with you consisted of the same exact routine.

You seemed almost perfect from what I could  tell.

Every time we were together, it was a little after 11:00 pm and we were always busy laughing and kissing, ignoring the movie you had playing for the past forty five minutes. (Although, it didn't really matter considering you had an awful habit of starting the movie where you left it playing the last time you watched it.)

You finally asked me to turn off your t.v. so it could just be me, you, and the dark.  

We laid there with our bodies pressed together enjoying the silence. I'd feel your fingertips running down my side, to my hip, and you'd slide your hand up the back of my shirt so you could run your hand down the vertebrates of my spine.

You told me that my skin was soft and you couldn't seem to keep your hands off it. If I close my eyes, I can still imagine how it felt to feel your skin on mine. The goosebumps still appear even though I know you're not really here.  

You always had a thing for staring at me far too long for my comfort. I covered your face, you kissed my hand, and after I removed it, you stared at me so intensely for a few more seconds, it was as if you were trying to dig out my secrets.

And don't even get me started about your lips.

Every time you kissed me, it always felt like it would be the last, but it wasn't. The last time you really kissed me, I had no idea I would never feel your velvet lips on mine. I thought you'd stay forever and I'd never have to go a day without kissing you, but boy, did I have a very unpleasant surprise coming my way.

We'd fall asleep in each other's arms every single night we were together, even though we both knew I had to be back in my own bed within the next hour or two. I'd wake up, check the time, and you'd whisper how you didn't want me to leave yet and how you'd miss me too much, but you couldn't stay with me because I had to wake up for class the next morning.

You walked me home every time, even though it was freezing outside and you were exhausted from a long day at work. Our hands were constantly  clasped so tight it seemed as if they had melted together and nothing could get between us. You made sure I was safe before leaving me with a sweet goodbye kiss.

You'd text me when you got back home and would tell me goodnight even though I just saw you ten minutes before that.

My clothes smelled like you. My hair smelled like you. God, even my skin smelled like you. I'd fall asleep with my sleeves pressed up against my nose because it helped me forget that I had to sleep without you for the rest of the night.

I'd wait all day to see you again. The hours dragged on forever. I couldn't wait to be in your arms again. I have never craved someone so badly before. You were different.

Unfortunately, this all came to a halt. I still remember the last night I spent with you. I even remember what outfit I wore. I had no idea I would never see you again. I knew you had to leave for a little while, but not forever.

I lost you.

I didn't know why. I wondered what I did wrong, but come to find, it wasn't me who ****** up. It was you. I didn't understand why you did what you did, but you told me you had your reasons. You had no valid excuse of hurting me, though. You were at a loss for words until I was sending you paragraph after paragraph and you finally had some ******* to come up with.

I hope she was worth it.

I could have loved you. If only you gave me the chance.



                             B.S.

Deciding to pursue religion. False harmonies. Odd years growing up. You don't care for the upset, do you? Alone I sit in the spotlight, Hallelujah. Enjoying the absence of brass. My neck restored. Relaxing vertebrates. Shoulders depressing. Newer cut. Crystal above emeralds. Dear fire, Pursue the rigging. Make us of this intrusion. Square cut chardonnay.

Wide eyes when I enter
into the dim lit porch.
As usual you were hiding
in the corner drink in hand.
Was it the past
that broke your palms
so now you don’t extend them?
Cracked ribs
beneath the cotton you wear-
everyone lives in fear
of skinned knees and bruised elbows.
What would your skin
reveal if it was marked
with my red lipstick,
like the necks of bottles
or my morning cigarette.
From the lavender dreams I live in
dawn always shines the brightest
and reminds me
that I will never know how your vertebrates
came to be.

- C.K

The spleen can be a peculiar thing
Riding high just above the jeans
When it no longer serves its purpose
And the doctors say that it must leave

Oh how the spleen once stood so proud
With the vertebrates in the local crowd
Now we give it the old collage wave
As the doctors toss it out

Where it goes nobody knows
To spleen heaven? Do they have those?
If all dogs go to heaven
Then with spleens we can only hope

That one day we will reunite
With our missing spleens in paradise
If you ask me that sounds real nice
I just hope they keep it on ice

It starts very subtle with a simple kind of rhythm
Then fills the room to the very brim with passion of sound
Dancing through my head with such poise and grace
It tip-toes down my spine balancing on my vertebrates
Makes it way to my throat without hesitation
Thus curling my lips into a smile so sweet
I close my eyes and drift to sleep

Donkey loves to eat all grass,
Donkey loves to chalk out plans.
Doggy wants to beat em up,
Colonia'h eyes wide shut!

Ratty steals and shines like gold,
Donkey loves to work for free,
Doggy wants to beat em up,
'Contradictions' come n see.

Lambie takes all sinners good,
Lambie tastes like good ole food,
Doggy eats them with all pride,
'Mythology, you may write.

Birdie drinkin' seedy tales,
Birdie talkin' insurance,
Lizzy breaks all vertebrates,
Doggy has got hate in tails.

Sweaty donkey works all day,
Ratty gives him no such pay,
Doggy loves to beat em up,
'*******' shout and say.

Donkey needs no birdie tales,
Shout n say. Shout n say!

a black mass
grows at the base of my spine,
venom dancing along the vertebrates,
spreading to my brain,
rotting the pink ***** into a pile of mush
held together
by the glued fusion
of my skull.

swallow my hate like a thick, vile tonic
that slides down the throat,
slowly killing you from the inside out.
love is much too tender a
thing for my hollow
walnut shell heart.
and i, i am not tender enough for it.
i am made for far ruder,
rougher things.

i can never be a saint
for saints never burn as i do.
in the depths of my despair,
strike the anvil of my blood
and hear me scream.

Intangible perception of reflecting light,
Electromagnetic radiation stimulating
Mammalian photoreceptors, six million
Cone cells densely packed, in a point three
Millimetres area known, as the fovea centralis
Residing at the core, of colour-grasping retinas.

Red, green and blue, bases of interpretation,
As all others can be matched with a combination
Of the three, for trichromats to see, distinguish
Energy of wavelengths to believe in deception,
Think that colours do exist, a gift of pigments
Inherited from early vertebrates, while fish

And birds may see Ultraviolets, as they are given
An extra one. Classification in categories,
Yellow, orange, purple, indigo and many more,
Associated with objects through wavelengths
Of light reflecting from them depending on physical
Properties deciding, whether to reflect specularly,

Scatter or absorb. Objects thus have the colour
Of the light leaving their surface, while rainbows
Continue to enchant exquisitely, the eye of the
Beholder struggling, to understand the physics
Of such bewildering apparition. Waiting for evolution
To give it a few pigments more, for it to see beyond.

Through the journey, life arrives

Underwater – start their lives

Stable neither hot nor cold

Soft tiny eggs there to behold



Of such a time, lay vulnerable

For many eggs is tactical

Protection of the animal

Camouflaged with gravel



Frogs and toad, amphibian class

Eggs that float in jelly mass

From tadpole to a metamorph

The stages of which to transform



The brooding pouch of the seahorse

Protection from an outside force

Hatch of species, tiny fry

Plankton their to multiply



Yolk sac feed, young fish growing

Strengthened muscles for swimming

Insect eggs and prawn relish

Hunting groups for bigger fish



Gliding through in forward motion

Darker depths of the ocean

Water wonders plentiful

Such vertebrates are wonderful



Written by Geraldine Taylor ©

10/4/19
"


Long ago I learned it
Nobody on this Earth is
Perfect
That's for certain

I'm determined
To be a better person
As I continue workin'
Ready to handle any burden

Not yet affirmative
We're still not so sure of it
If elsewhere life stirs and exists

A solar system full of curses and gifts
All these strange occurences
In a world that can be merciless
Below and above all surfaces

People being wasteful and others conservative
Food sold with and without preservatives

The first to quit
Far too often people see no way out, instead of the alternative
Stop doing yourself disservices
And making foolish purchases

Focus on virtousness
Considering that nothing remains in a state of permanence

Do you know who Tyler Durden is?
Are you familiar with Copernicus?


So many serpents
Others being impertinent
And then there's those that want to put you in the dirt quick

Yet another work shift
Involving vertebrates

At times, limbs in dire need of a tourniquet

Planes in mid flight, occasionally hit with turbulence
Violent crimes causing mass hysteria and disturbances

Ever occuring festivals and tournaments
Homes with or without trees and ornaments

The greedy take it all, while others get nothing
Even though they earned a bit
At least a third of it

Some of which is interpretative
All these true stories and even more myths

Shout out to a select few herbalists
And journalists

I haven't yet discovered what my purpose is
But, it's all good,  I'm still looking with earnestness


Prosper
Appreciate what this globe has to offer
Goodbye, I'm now six feet under where the surface is
Now you know, if you haven't yet heard of it

When saline drowns the lips,
my words tremble.

Almost I stumble upon
the fish house spilling the vertebrates.

I had given them, the name
to the swirling limbless thoughts.

One by one they come on the edge
and blow the ashes, towards me.

You always dream of a procession
of dead bodies under the window.

In the little study, you are
afraid of leaning walls.

And you say you were responsible
and to be held accountable.

Vertebrates with feathers and tails

Reptiles with their shiny scales

Birds of which that range in size

Returning cycles that comprise



Solid seal, protective shell

Danger near, seek to repel

Contained therein with varied roles

Porous eggs of tiny holes



Nest of twigs, eggs to hide

Incubate the birds inside

Predators across the land

Hiding place beneath the sand



Born to hunt, equipped with age

Acquired mate, there to engage

Age’s grand of which to reach

Return journey to their beach



Storks upon the solid sticks

Within the nest of feeding chicks

Frozen wasteland of no nest

Penguin pouches, eggs to rest



Giant fans attract a mate

Tail feathers, peacocks shake

Birds of tropics, colours bright

Such a ray of sheer delight



Written by Geraldine Taylor ©

In organic
Organisms
Aka bony
Vertebrates
Inter-*****
Interactions
Including
Osteocalcin
A­nd not
Adrenaline
Is ostensibly
Responsible
For fight
Or flight
Reactions

What makes trees grow
the wind to blow
the **** to crow
the river flow

What gives the air its sustenance,
the small child, his utterance,
the living person's countenance,
the barking dog's truculence

He Who all coordinates
the universe orchestrates
from invertebrates to vertebrates,
amoeba to primates

Some say He is in everything
but i say this about this Thing
It transcends all the things
He is. That is. His name. King.

Sent my smooching life south,
whereby I felt like poor Georgie Porgie,
pudding and pie,
who kissed the girls and made them cry.

The medical term for cold sores,
****** Labialis, refers
to the ****** virus Type 1 (HSV-1)
that most often causes these sores,
though ****** virus Type 2 (HSV-2)
less often can also be a cause.

Courtesy chafing lower denture
the inside lower lip of mine
(analogous when braces
donned by pearly whites -
long since ravaged
and removed by Periodontitis;
A serious gum infection
that damaged gums
and can destroy the jawbone)
rubbed raw firing, kickstarting,
and triggering throbbing ache
before going to sleep,
whether for a siesta
or bidding adieu
to the webbed wide world until the morrow,
and upon soon after I wake
attempting, daring, and farcing
to crack a smile
experience needling pain for doggone sake.

Yours truly most seriously,
affected with oral blight
when rumblies in tummy
signal appeasement of appetite
teasing viands with pronounced delight
impossible mission to masticate,
thus I reconcile myself experiencing pain
when chomping on solid foods,
whereby the bilabial fricative
actuated courtesy chewing motion,
(especially movement of lower jaw)
doth indelibly etch and sketch copyright
infringement onto soft tissue
aggravating, grooving, and torturing
satisfactorily done by the mandible
constituting lower jaw or jawbone
regarding the bottom skeleton
that makes up the lower
(and typically also the more mobile)
half of the mouth in jawed vertebrates.

While at C(ustomer) V(alued) S(ervice)
store at 1206 Gravel Pike, Zieglerville,
Pennsylvania 19492 - on a whim,
I purchased Peroxide Sore Mouth Cleaner
an over the counter product
and painless solution
to alleviate and heal
ulcerated, and lacerated fever blister
inside lower lip of this mister
re: man, whose spouse considers me weird
and peculiarly wired

as most likely would deux daughters I sired,
though both free and clear
despite their former impressionable years
being severely mired
with unnecessary financial hardship
whose lack of healthy
gainful employment track record
(essentially... I got fired)
linkedin to mental health issues,
thus no surprise when
the writer of these words desired

exiting realm of living social
(think passive suicidal ideation),
particularly manifest destiny
to join the underground movement
of the dead souls, when fraudsters
exerted remote mind control
managed to apply psychological ploy
leaving an immense black hole
sun leaving sense and sensibility extinct,
whereat I found myself in good company
with the Baltimore Oriole
along the Eastern United States.

The posted gofundme page...
oh that came to naught,
thus I live hand to mouth
still holding out hope
some anonymous benefactor
would vicariously writhe nsync
with mein kampf.