Long Charles darwin Poems
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In the library - for contest
Books are the ever- burning lamps
Of knowledge and wisdom....
It 's a well-established truth and I
also nod in full agreement...
But let me say this, I am not a nerd
And I am not a book-worm....
Nor do I have a flair for reading much
and all my friends know this too well....
But in these few days what surprised
them was my frequent library visits
My tryst with our town library..
was on a rising note day- by -day
My friends got curious and dubious!
Free-times or weekends my schedule
had changed,
My footsteps take me to the library road ....
All roads for me led to library not Rome!
Friends were not on my agenda as before...
Intolerable, all in a group they did approach
Asked me the reason for my library craze...
I shrugged, I smiled,I winked,
I blushed but didn't disclose....
My visits to library stay continued...
One fine morning greatly dressed I,
left my home as my perfume lingered
My destination, I need not say now
I know you readers have guessed it right!
My steps moved in well-paced rhythm
Hilarious spirits , morning pleasant!
Sun smiled at me and flowers wished!
Into the library i did step in...
And as his glimpse my sight caught
I blushed, I waved, smile creeping in
Bright face, so elegant , so handsome
Waved back and sent me a flying kiss
A research scholar and my new love!
Day in and day out he enjoys with books...
"The origin of species" by Charles Darwin
Rene Descartes and his philosophy of,
Cogito ergo sum !
My experiments with truth by Mahatma Gandhi!
Hereditary principles by Gregor Mendel..
Sociological thoughts of Max Weber
These are a few that I recollect..
Oh my dear soup friends...now that you all know
Please maintain silence.... is the board I'll point at!
My other friends are still curious....
I leave it to them to find on their own!!
My love has filled in me a new passion
my reading habit is slowly improving!
I sat with him last week with Pygmalion
Classic of versatile George Bernard Shaw
How hours passed like minutes, I never know!
I Worship library now as a repository
of knowledge of varied genre!
In reading and applying what we read
lies our real wisdom!
for contest: In the library
sponsorer-Isaiah Zerbst
by: Anulaxmi Nayak
on:13th August 2015
In the hall of creation,
the floor was white gold.
The air shimmered
with the weight of unborn ideas.
A line of souls waited before Me,
each one daring to ask
for the fire that can never be owned.
Isaac Newton stepped forward,
eyes burning with questions.
"Let me weigh the stars,
let me name their laws.
I will write the motions of the heavens
so mankind may see order in the chaos."
I touched his brow.
The apple fell forever.
Albert Einstein followed,
hair untamed as spacetime itself.
"Give me a mind that bends light
and warps time into rivers of truth.
Let me show them
that reality is a dance no eye can truly see."
I laughed at his courage,
and gave him the fabric of the cosmos.
Marie Curie came next,
a slender flame in a long dress.
"Father, I will walk into the invisible,
touch the breath of atoms,
and bring light from the dark—
even if it burns me."
I kissed her forehead.
I knew she would not live long.
Charles Darwin approached
with papers whispering like restless leaves.
"Let me trace the footsteps of life itself—
from crawling things to singing man.
Let me tell the story of how they came to be."
I told him to kneel.
His truth would be heavier than stone,
and men would hate him for it.
Galileo Galilei lifted his eyes to the ceiling.
"Let me lift a tube to the heavens,
to see what angels hide.
Let me show them
the Earth is not the center,
and that they are not the crown of the universe."
I told him to return in three days.
He would need courage forged in chains.
Nikola Tesla entered last.
He did not bow.
"I want it all," he said simply.
"All the lightning of heaven,
the secret language of energy,
the heartbeat of the world."
I smiled sadly.
Such a mind burns too brightly to last.
I opened the gates of thought,
and the storms moved into him.
When they were gone,
the hall was silent again.
I stood among the unborrowed minds,
knowing every gift I give
is also a curse.
Dear Miss Monkey Manners, I hope that you can solve a problem for an old baboon,
I’ve said some things to a dear friend of mine and it makes me feel like I’m a buffoon.
I said that, “God created Charles Darwin because he was so disappointed in monkeys.”
How was I to know when I spoke that he and Darwin’s uncle were at one time bunkies?
I only meant it as a passing humor aimed at pointing out our man like flaws,
I didn’t know that this friend and Charles Darwin shared the same grandpas?
Anyway, now he’s mad at me and called me a bigot so now I need a plan,
I want to show him, that except for their smell, there’s nothing I hold against man?
But if he doesn’t get over it pretty quickly and take that chimp from off his shoulder,
I’m going to get sick of his blue butt attitude and kick him in his banana holder.
My Dear and Gentle Monkey “Man”, I think that the time has come for action,
A stinging shot to his low land region might give us both great satisfaction.
This baboon friend of yours is a member of a new and obnoxious breed,
We must be rid of him and his ilk before political correctness plants a seed.
When the time comes that we can’t make a joke about how man came from we apes,
Is the same time that a never ending stream of flying monkeys from my butt escapes.
Don’t you dare offer up a single syllable of a word aimed at reconciliation.
To make a slam of the works of man is the hallmark of simian civilization.
Instead, the next time you see a group of men walking through your forest setting,
Dare your misguided chum to go up and talk to them, he’ll swing away I’m betting.
There is only one thing more distasteful to me than the babblings of a liberal Baboon,
And that’s one who, when forced to face his own convictions, babbles a different tune.
Deep within throes of writer's block cerebral cortex feels frozen to the core
Haint no rhyme nor reason
why writing a poem such an arduous chore
twenty two days afore
winter solstice twenty twenty more
or less three weeks from tomorrow
November thirtieth, I implore
the god/goddess of poetry,
perhaps found within Bangalore
highlighted by the 'Green Door'
guarded by the key don Eeyore
also known as Al Gore
him of Earth in the Balance fame
who by George got ambushed unsure
if he chad chance to claim victory tour
when former candidate did score
less electoral college votes
nevertheless in my mind before
thoroughgoing count did ignore
discarded ballots scattered
all across the floor
which outcome incurred Iraq war
insinuating weapons of mass destruction
the gung ho forty third president forswore
existed but quite a few
respectable Republicans did abhor
pinning such ambiguous lore
upon head of recalcitrant Saddam Hussein
bombed back to stone age
think lavishing primitive home decor
no imprecation heaped and hurled
upon United States military, nor
thug, who nobody did adore
asking politely "por favor
can I pretty please take detour
to Galapagos Islands of Ecuador
made famous courtesy Charles Darwin
still popular best selling author
at garden variety generic bookstore
which borders on ridiculous for sure
yet inane rhyme tore
thru my noggin after writer's block
yours truly did deplore
he would spend countless hours in vain
every burst of creativity I did explore
found me smack dab against
figurative cul de sac and bonjour
to you too three score
orbitz after me late papa did bore
mama, she passed away
fifteen years before.
I just watched the SAE video and I'm not sure where to begin. . .
I'm from Oklahoma, it's responsible for all the chagrin in my pen
All this tension is merely misconception of our inception
Please show me one person that chose the color of their skin
Our pigment evolved with our environment, Charles Darwin
In 1963 MLK told us we should only judge by one's character within
Do we not listen or do we just have an addiction with affliction?
Because 52 years later we still can't seem to grasp that we're all kin
It's ironic, black & white aren't even colors, just tricks of our vision
Prick anyone's finger, I bet the color they bleed is sanguine
Caucasian, African, Indian, Asian, why not just Homosapien?
Each one of these is simply a label, let's subtract the division
and come together and grow, addition & multiplication
Anything that suggests otherwise is fiction promoting friction
You are IT, I am IT, this it IT, that is IT, it's called Zen
We're parts of an infinite whole, light and dark, yang and yin
I'm not a psychic or a doctor but I have a prediction & a prescription
If we continue our traditions Gaia will soon issue an eviction
and she won't ask permission before her infliction of jurisdiction
Do you realize our position? We can have utopia or extinction
The world has never been so connected but we lack connection
All we need is admission of our condition, there's no encryption
Let's swallow our pride and direct our ascension with intention
I'm on a mission to paint crystal clear depictions with my diction
This is a poem but simultaneously a prayer, AMEN
Title:
Are we all mysteriously
Sinful?
(A lone voice whispers)
In the beginning
Did you secretly
Walk like a curious
Enigmatic Charles Darwin
Looking
Whilst
Lost in Youth
Seeking The Meaning of Sin
To clandestine dark places where
Angels
Without harps
Profusely lambast and
Sing
Searching
Through concealed ancient manuscript and treatises
Seduced by Mistresses and Masters
Of Seductions
By their ever-changing winds
And rhymes
And now
Are you still covertly
Only understood
By a select few
Riding your Pale Horse
Tempestuously
Through lost
Biographies of Old Beliefs
Always on the lookout for engagements
A means to sometimes
Circumvent dark
Carnal release
Or are you still drinking Cool-Aid
From the Matrix’s ever spinning
Propaganda's machine
As the Cosmic Serpent
Of your own Apocalypse
Approaches with such devious guile
Heralding a new divine invasion
Of your own United Nations
So you still dwell in
A new vision of Gilgamesh
Wallowing in previous dark memories of
Sins
Of old encounters and embraces
Of its sensuous
Flesh
Or are you a new lost Nikola Tesla
Lost in the folds of deep personal histories
Overwhelmed
With impropriety and greed
Still seemingly held in check
By fingerprints of
Memories Old Gods
But still always courageously
Praying silently to the skies
Trying to save
Your soul
Always praying someone
Hears you and your deeds and comes down
To intercede
Copyright John Duffy
There is a magic that, if we’re blessed, throughout our life persists…
a phenomenon that can’t be explained by philosophers or scientists.
It’s been around long before we were born and will be around long after we are through…it’s something you might find hard to believe…until it happens to you.
It can only occur naturally…it can’t be manufactured…or bought…and only after you’ve experienced it does it become easier to spot.
You can see it in your family and friends with just the naked eye…it is particularly easy to spot in older couples walking by.
Since, once experienced it becomes easier to see…
I wonder…if Charles Darwin knew of its origin…or Isaac Newton its gravity.
Surely something this fascinating begs for the expertise…of Plato…
his mentor Aristotle…
or his student, Socrates.
And what is this phenomenon whose praises have long been sung?
It’s the fact that even as our bodies grow old…the love inside us stays young.
That, even as we age and our actions and reflexes are slowing,…the love we first experienced long ago in our hearts and minds…keeps growing.
It is a fact we all will die…to think differently is a fools endeavor…
but love…once it’s touched us and touched another…will live on…forever.
Love has a way of defying time and space…of gravity…of origin and causation…
of never being fully understood…of eluding explanation.
And I, for one, having experienced it…
feeling its wonder every day…
am not only glad it is so mysterious…
but wouldn’t have it any other way.
Axed dent of circumstances
finds yours truly liberated,
whereby no obligatory constraints
obliges forcible adherence
synchronizing Circadian rhythm
forcibly linkedin within paradigm
minutely crafting, daisy chaining
involuntarily ceding cradle to grave
man made artificial construct
(dismissing one living away
off the gridlock)
co-opting every precious moment
comprising hour quotidian existence
to sustain swiftly styled
harry tailored lifestyle
affording bajillion *****sapiens
luxury to scold frantic scramble,
freedom to scurry frantically
twenty four seven madcap rat race
formerly existing (millenniums ago)
as "noble savage"
ah...remember those glory days
now, grudgingly,
niggardly... unwittingly
compromising pleasant dreams
jarring deeply slumbering
body electric groggily awake
liberty, courtesy alarming wake up
to toil away making dem
big dearly beloved bucks
essentially entering holy grail
searching made more worthwhile
thankless fracas, fray, fraught
pitting one beasty boy against t'other
survival of fittest in overdrive
(Charles Darwin taken aback),
how origin of most ruthless species
went a courtin for dazzling,
jazzy, regal trappings
supposedly to ease
grueling laboring mind numbing
lumpenproletariat, when after
devoting, sacrificing, venerating...
prime mating years
take respite, and
hire oneself out
as independent contractor,
versus sedately pathetic mundane...
you bet your life
in relation to this
self ostracized scrivener.
Whether the Good Lord or Charles Darwin gave Adam his fruit
Regardless of ideology versus faith rules our common pursuit
We need to accept that life is dangerous and fraught with peril
Don’t jump the gun before facing the reaper or his rifle barrel
Instead it might help to live for today and embrace what goes on
Make hay when the sun shines before the finite moment is gone
Roses have thorns nettles may sting and snakes poison for real
Not unlike families who can spew toxins they are unable to conceal
Choose carefully with whom you share your knife to slice bread
Not rocket since that otherwise you might be prematurely dead
You can turn a worm ridden table as often as you consider fit
Oil cleans surfaces and place mats but inherent fissures can split
Share a jug of water with a hint of mint draped with olive branches
Without preconditions or anger when you apportion the tranches
If life only gives you lemons plant yet another citrus fruit tree
Sour seeds hold promise and possibilities not that easy to see
Felines are said to have nine lives but humans have no such luck
It is best to unwind and enjoy current presence before we get stuck
When you stride in your strife remember you might be an example
Children are attentive and they learn fast what might not be ample
But whatever you decide do not toss out the baby with the bath
Don’t put the cat in the microwave as it might explode on its path
25th February 2020
...Shakespeare and his pentameter, vital after four centuries,
Cervantes and his man Sancho,
Dumas and Montecristo,
the great tales of Boccaccio,
Dicken and his fine ghosts three.
Beethoven's sonic fury still staggers even jaded minds,
Tchaikovsky made eighteen-twelve
sound utterly epic as well,
Hayden’s string quartets still sell,
even Beatles have immortal rhymes.
Newton and his marvelous brain cracked open the world of physics,
Charles Darwin shocked with his words,
Galileo far orbits observed,
Einstein showed that space was a curve,
built up our science, brick-by-brick.
A Pantheon of perfection, still grand amidst the Roman street,
Notre Dame, lofty and sacred,
Sagrada rises high overhead,
Parliament sports the Big Ben,
the majestic dome of Saint Pete’s.
Who can’t help but like Highlander games with cabers tossed every which way?
Running with bulls puts you to the test,
who can frown at Oktoberfest?
Gotta’ love those Christmas markets,
the traditions of holiday.
To think that two rather large wars invalidate the entire thing?
All mankind is versed in war,
fought in many, many before,
we’ll be fighting them forever more,
doesn’t mean you aren’t worth saving.
Now your cultures face angry foes who believe you should not survive.
Extremists who promote Islam,
socialists who get everything wrong,
‘elite’ leftists who put you on,
dragging you down with their lies…
When, in truth, Europe should grow and thrive.