Global Warming is Creating a New Art Movement

 Global Warming is Creating a New Art Movement 

"We are the first generation to feel the effect of climate change and the last generation who can do something about it". - US President Barack Obama

Paintings by Dr Abe V Rotor

Onslaught of the Glowing Armyworms 
Armyworms are so-called because of their gregarious, voracious and they suddenly appear and attack. When food is scarce and environmental conditions unfavorable, they become wild and uncontrollable. Such is the tendency of a bandwagon, building up into a mob.

They come in an army strong in spring, 

rising from quiescence with the first rain,

greed and abandon the rule of their game

spoiling all rules, free-for-all, and insane.

But only when cornered the biological

instinct reigns, survival the ultimate aim,

where nature lost its order, its pristine,

by man craving for wealth, power, fame.  

How similar a pattern, could it be the genes

dictating? Creatures behaving like beast,

and man in neither in need nor in plenty, 

fights in army whether in war or peace. ~   

Degeneration of the Roses

Global warming has caused many problems in plants and animals. Hybrids are among the first to succumb, while the native species or varieties are the last. Their survival secret? Natural resistance built through countless generations in the open. As a rule. hybrids can't be left alone - they will revert to man-directed lines which are unstable and uncertain. The failure of science is when its progeny is abandoned or misguided.

"My luv is a red, red rose," in romanticism gone,

"Paper roses," a song of love lost and lament;

and Gertrude Stein, wanting of the right word, 

said, "A rose is a rose is a rose," is truly meant.  

The rose is very sick, not only in social norms,

it is sick with the loss of its indigenous genes,

it is sick with the pollution of its genetic pool,

manipulated to suit the market by all means.

While the whole world grows hotter each day;

Carbon in air traps heat; it too, turns into acid 

falling as toxic rain, dousing the red in the rose.

Where have all the roses gone, their lovely bid? ~