written and posted by members of Lancashire Dead Good Poets' Society

Showing posts with label DNA. Show all posts
Showing posts with label DNA. Show all posts

Tuesday, 18 August 2026

DNA - Who Am I?

 



DNA is the abbreviation of deoxyribonucleic acid.

I admit to getting out of my depth trying to research this. Science was never a strong point and even now, with an interest in the subject, I’m literally blinded by science. This description is what I found online, in terms I could understand,

“DNA is the special molecule inside your cells that holds the genetic code. This code tells your body how to grow, look and work. In shape, it looks like a twisted ladder called a double helix. The rungs of the ladder are made of four chemicals, Adenine, Thymine, Cytosine and Guanine. You get half of your DNA from each parent.”

It reads as if aimed at KS2 primary level children and it is as much as I think I need to know.

There is a saying, ‘It is a wise child that knows his own father’. It is in Homer’s Odyssey and also in William Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice. It means, as we know, ‘One can never be sure of one’s paternity’.

This was something in the back of my mind. Remarks were made when I was in my teens, but I didn’t pay much attention because I didn’t want to give any satisfaction to the person trying to get under my skin.

I’ve used Ancestry and similar online sites to help grow my family tree for a long time. It’s one of those things I dip in and out of, usually when something new grabs my interest. When Ancestry introduced DNA tests, I considered it for ages. What I’d kept in the back of my mind came into the forefront and I spent hours of ‘what if’ self-counselling. I didn’t apply straight away, but when the cost was reduced on a special offer, I decided to go ahead. The results didn’t throw up anything unexpected. Those remarks, intended to make me doubt the foundation of my existence, had no substance and up to now, no surprises.

I found a couple of poems on Poetry Soup,

A Dash of DNA

A dash of DNA decides
The colour of our eyes
And probably our hair and skin
And possibly our size.

Genetics, though, is just a part
Of who we grow to be,
For many other factors count,
Each one to some degree.

Our family life, our neighbourhood,
Our friends, religion, schools,
All help determine how we’ll use
Our inborn molecules.

We learn from our experience;
So much of it holds sway
That over all it counts more than
That dash of DNA

by Ilene Bauer


Finn’s Lament in Two Parts, Limerick

Finn boasted he was all Irish,
A DNA test he would relish.
When Danes showed up
He got lost in his cup
And said DNA was all rubbish.

Finn’s kids never did care
That they had bright blond hair,
But still he was wrought
At the very thought
That Danes were everywhere.

by Peter W Iversen


Thanks for reading, Pam x

Saturday, 27 December 2014

Beatlemania Was Born In Blackpool

The Beatles 'arrived' when I was nine and nothing would ever be quite the same again. They permeated our young lives and literally became the soundtrack to my adolescence. Christmases were always awash with fabulous Beatle music (1963 With The Beatles, 1964 Beatles For Sale, 1965 Rubber Soul). We thrilled to their sound on transistors, radiograms and TV specials.

Tennis rackets became guitars, biscuit tins became drums (except no one really wanted to be Ringo) and the girls next door became groupies as we mimed to John, Paul, George and Ringo's unprecedented string of number one hits. In the playground there were mock battles between Beatles fans, Searchers supporters and those deluded few who thought the Dave Clark Five were going to take over the world. We were still all wearing short trousers - even in winter. They seemed such innocent and exciting times....

Years later, Beatles For Sale was the de rigeur LP (and then CD) of choice to be played during the annual decorating of the Christmas tree, and so the Beatles became not just part of my DNA but indelibly part of my daughters' as well... and Revolver remains my favourite album of all time.

Today's poem is one that I've just written as part of a project for Blackpool's Imperial Hotel, about some of its most famous guests and this being Christmas week, what better time to give it an airing?

The Beatles in their (smoking) prime
The iconic1964 image of The Beatles in Blackpool was taken on the roof of the Opera House by local photographer Peter Emmett.

Beatlemania!
Beatlemania was born in Blackpool
back in the summer of sixty-three.
The fab four rocked the town by the sea
no fewer than eight times in that giddy year,
playing Queens Theatre, the Opera House and ABC
from balmy July to sultry September,
each show a performance to remember.
None more so than their first appearance
at the Queens - once Feldman’s - on Bank Hey Street
(now a cut-price department store)
when four thousand frenzied but ticketless fans
besieged and surrounded the sold-out venue,
completely blocking all of its doors
so that the mops
had to be smuggled in across rooftops –
the first of many a Hard Day’s Night. 

On stage their fringes shook in crazy joy,
their music, soundtrack of our unshackling,
hardly heard above the noise
of screaming girls in pheromone flow.
It was mayhem of the most wondrous kind…

…and later in Imperial pomp
the boys sipped scotch and coke to unwind,
cloistered in their hotel suite
figuring the chords to I Feel Fine. 

But the Fab Four did so much more
than light up Blackpool –
they were about to turn on a generation!
From Love Me Do to Love You To,
the Beatles soon commanded every station.
A cultural phenomenon
unparalleled in modern times,
these four young men enthralled a nation
eager to escape our post-war blues.
They switched the points -
and in doing so
allowed us to forgo
destination Squaresville
in favour of a Magical Mystery Tour.

Thanks for reading. Have a rocking New Year, Beatlemaniacs everywhere, S :-)