Long Rene descartes 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
Pull back the covers and experience,
Just how fresh and crisp it is inside,
Discover a poet who once lived among us,
And built community,
Out of encouragement, fun and wondering
Like you, he pondered the mysteries of foreign flagged ships,
That leaked rust out of every orifice.
Listened intently to “The Ship Report” on KMUN Radio
Wondered about the crew stuck on these smoking hulks.
Who are they? Where did they come from and where will they go?
Between the covers, you will also find a poet so shy and self-effacing,
That he always wrote in long hand
And never jumped aboard the electronic train
Yet he wrote year after year,
Because he wanted to share himself with you.
There is always our river and the whole wide watershed.
All the creatures that live in her and in her shadows:
There are Woolly bears and the sun shining on a Jay,
Turning his wings and tail iridescent.
There are salmon, sea lions and pelicans all there between the covers.
Some of the covers are decades old,
But once inside, you are dazzled by the freshness of the voices.
Voices both familiar and strange,
Of people that couldn’t stop writing
Until their work gained the sheen of mastery.
Just as you might expect,
There are love poems of all sorts,
Hiding under the covers
Did you know that the Astoria Megler Bridge
Was once a grand conduit to a waiting heart?
There are many who appear only once,
Yet their work is still intimate and bold,
Deserving a pride of place,
Among the prolific and the stalwart
Because they found courage to claim a space
Poets praise elderberries of all colors
Among light, death, bees, and Rene Descartes
Wicked storms, flora, fauna, requiems, and musings.
But keep their distance from the poet doctor who used razor sharp knives.
Their contributions will be scanned and archived and available just the same.
Rain is hiding in plain sight in the collective bookshelves,
Of our homes and gathering places in all the communities
Of the Lower Columbia Pacific and the North Coast Oregon
Southwest Washington State
To be rediscovered in perpetuity.
Pull back the covers, dive in
And experience the Rain!
Imagine that someone wants to argue against the existence of air
All the while breathing in air
The Catholics have the Mitered Buffoon
They say Protestants have the “Paper Pope” too
Immanuel Kant said you can’t bring the noumenal and phenomenal together
And it was for duty’s sake that we honor God, or whether
Rene Descartes says I doubt therefore I must exist to do the doubting
Akin to intellectual touting
Friedrich Nietzsche said we can’t give up God because we believe in
laws of grammar
God’s anvil has exhausted many a hammer
David Hume came to skepticism over the induction principle
Bertrand Russell said the same thing
Only Cornelius Van Til could say that the unbeliever is like a child
sitting on his father’s lap
Can reach up and slap his father’s face
It is by God’s common grace that the unbeliever
can sit on God’s lap reach up and infantilely slap His face
The intellectual picture and metaphor
Is in Christ who died for a Whore
Heraclitus and Zeno can consider points in a stream not the same in time
Or arrows that have antecedent range each and every time
Copernicus and Kepler (even Aristarchus) are skewing heliocentricity
Why wasn’t Ptolemy or Lucretius given verticity
All today’s G.O.A.T.’s can buy their fame
They won’t walk with the sheep on the last day
John Lennon said it out loud imagine there’s no heaven
We can equally posit imagine there is no Lennon
The Auburn Affirmation could only deny Christ’s deity
Jean Paul Sartre could only collar the Holy Spirit and throw Him out
Wittgenstein could only show disgust in the ubiquity of God’s judgment
on him
Unless they were breathing God’s air
And it’s the battling against the Holy Spirit’s work that is the unforgivable sin
Matthew asked this author
“How can you hate someone you don’t believe in?”
I THINK THEREFORE I AM
"An ounce of hypocrisy is worth
a pound of ambition" --Michael Korda
Liberty...
This everyone's want--
stretching an autonomy to unbuckle self-discovery
I got mites and bugs living in my head--
infesting my mind. They... daring a chance
to worm my guts and electrify my peace.
They adulterate seeking ways to emerge
from claws of doubts to grains of trust.
My veil of grace they bite and bite
devouring me 'til I set to pursue my act.
Should I repulse...
then spread my wings to fly?
or should I be a little puppet--
controlled, slave to strings attached to me?
or I'd rather choose a mask--
my gamble to earn sympathy or popularity;
my weapon sheltering my luck;
my fall or my win?
Cogito ergo sum.
I think, therefore I am.
The mites and bugs in my skull blown
from shocks infused by my firing drive.
My cavalry of Modesty, brave to rise
face the furnace of battlegrounds.
Insincerity. Malingering. Pretension
are artillaries luring hypocrisy
but love, honesty and bravery:
the bombs I defy to conquer the trades.
If God is with me, who can be against me?
Standing like a Molave
rooted evergreen, ever strong.
My face bulletproof
to those who I believe wrong.
A standing soldier ready to offer her life
to fraud and tyranny.
I refuse to be fed on standing lies.
The harpoons of verity, I battling dart,
raining towards the barbaric boxes as they...
They are my lioness roar, my freedom and my soar
piercing the pumping heart of those who eat innocence,
I... dauntless!
_________________________________________________
** I think therefore I am is said by Rene Descartes
Romans 8:31-- If God is with us, who can be against us?
O. E. Guillermo
10:43 pm, April 18, 2015
Robin Hood, man in tights
Julius Caesar, might makes right
Alexander, called "the Great"
Sitting Bull, righteous hate
Robert the Bruce, Attila the Hun
Charlemagne, Napoleon
Hear the call of the alpha male!
Warriors leave a bloody trail.
George Washington, man on the spot
JFK and Camelot
Thomas Jefferson, renaissance man
Abe Lincoln took a stand
Ronald Reagan, Richard III
Henry VIII, Harry Byrd
Hear the call of the alpha male!
In politics it's all for sale.
Hemingway, Shakespeare, Kant, and Plato
Chaucer, Shelley, Cicero, Cato
Voltaire, Dickens, Rene Descartes
Byron, Lawrence, Jean-Paul Sartre
Hear the call of the alpha male!
Some prefer to write the tale.
Wolfgang Mozart, dead so young
Leonard Bernstein's song is sung
Picasso, art you love to hate
Ludwig Beethoven, voice of Fate
Bach, Lennon, and Shostakovich
Monet, Manet, Buddy Rich
Hear the call of the alpha male!
Art and music fill some sails.
Joe Montana, football star
Michael Jordan raised the bar
Wayne Gretzsky, Hall of Fame
Jesse Owens changed the game
Rockne, Ruth, Gehrig, Orr
Chamberlain, Beckham, Man O' War
Hear the call of the alpha male!
Athletic prowess up for sale.
Tyrone Power, Harrison Ford
John Glenn, Sir Thomas More
Edmund Hillary, John Donne
Albert Einstein, Brigham Young
James Dean, Alvin York
Margaret Thatcher, Robert Bork
Audie Murphy, Mohandas Gandhi
Chris Columbus, Walter Ralegh
Hear the call of the alpha male!
Now it's time to end this tale.
Woe to she who hears his cry,
Destined, like as not, to die;
For alpha males blaze bright and sweet,
But she-moths burn inside their heat.
Memory
I am my memory.
This piece of the world, this brief sprouting
Amongst many thinking radishes,
Exists only as resonances within
Lacy neurons; Flanders’ delicate patterns
Sustained by glial skeletons,
Beyond the spider’s web or silent
Snowflake in elegant complexity.
I am memory:
Identity, selfness, the compass of my person,
Shaped by the universe’s unknowingness
Of my reedlike form; yet I know I exist,
And know of my fate,
And of the fate of the universe,
Which is the power of my memory
And humankind’s collective memory.
I am:
And therefore recreated endlessly by my memories which,
Shallow-like, bow to my insecurities
Played out in my mind; ironically,
Feeding my own undermining,
Poignant recall of joy and bittersweet sorrow,
Given force by visceral emotion, shaping “I”
Anew, through endless rehearsal.
I:
Who is: only in relation to you, another,
My child, parent, brother, sister, a lover,
Bosom friend; like me, the sum
Of memories, which we share
And are thus part of each other,
All one, yet separate, connected
Through memory.
The memories of you fade,
Yet do not disappear, and
Give truth to my thoughts
On memory, and my identity;
Me, whom you pursued until
I caught you, and gave
Me memories happy and sad,
That shape me still..
with acknowledgements to
Blaise Pascal, William Shakespeare, Rene Descartes, Eric Kandel, John Locke, the Lace makers of Belgium....and Georgia
Out there on a twist of fate, on razor backs, on oblivion's mistakes
Demons spin atomic particles like microscopic balls creating tables
Making them from something more than medieval trees
Lets call it demon wood or satanic particles for short
Atoms are too complicated to be understood
Around the corner of a smile and a solid block of something
Just when Rene Descartes proves that God exists
Not from religious smoke and mirrors but on concrete thought
Where atoms orbiting are born and Adam comes alive from clay
And Eve is no laughing matter if she is scientifically made
Not just another Pinocchio strung up on display
What more proof could anyone need
Unless your name is Skeptic
Lost in a fog of logic with your demons
There is no pleasing negativity
The very air does not exist but evil spirits do
If God is perfect can He create a perfect object
One too heavy for Him to lift?
The answer is so simple that even philosophers can miss it
Skeptics, like this question are absurdities
Everyone knows that only God can make a tree
Made easier with some atoms and Descartes
There is no need for heavier things than these
I. Noise in an empty hallway:
My old leather shoes protest as I hurry down the linoleum tiles
Like I'm wearing a little piece of history older than I am.
II. Headlights on a dark road:
Speeding down narrow country roads
windows rolled down and Autumn wind rushing through the car
Ripping my hair from its tie
My arm stretching out the window, numb in the night air.
III. Ephemeral beauty:
For a moment, life is endless and incredibly brief
Stretching before me like a dusty trail at sunset
Disappearing into the trees.
IV. Origin of life:
There is this vague, unnamable incomprehension in my chest
Like euphemisms, that is the easy way out
This is the hard way: I am alive, alive, alive
When one cell became thirty trillion, I gained consciousness.
V. I am not the sum of my parts:
I don't have the faith to believe
That all my thirty trillion cells are a fluke of nature
VI. Evidence:
I am the proof of divinity's existence
A signpost shouting "I am alive" thirty trillion times with all the power of my lungs
Designed for miracles
VII. Rene Descartes:
It is not
I think; therefore, I am
It is
I think; therefore, He is.
I'm not notable reader of the rich Latin language,
That treasures within its realm mountainous barns of knowledge…
Thoughts and philosophies, like symphony, around-the-clock,
To this ocean, like sea animals, for full refuge, flock...
Of all, like sediments, one who has settled in my mind,
And floats to the surface, like unfettered feather inter-twined;
Is Rene Descartes – French, who’d taught - cogito, ergo sum,
That altered my concepts, to rationalism, to succumb...
I think, therefore I exist; no existence otherwise?
Is this very concept, yet, as highest as the great skies?
Accessible knowledge; test of best methodical doubt,
Doubting the very existence; whether it's flood or drought...
Fond rebuilding; single-lined philosophy; so modern!
When I teach it to my students they seem problem-ridden;
To me, yet, this phrase and philosophy are august fun,
Like irrational thought battles lost early, are now won...
10 January 2022
Latin Lessons Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Margarita Lillico
tone deaf and color blind
--------------------------
i don't feel any pain
yes it will happen again
everybody knows
that is how it goes
we speculate and imply
what's before our eyes
i think thus i am
said a quite peculiar man
named rene descartes
who was not ready to part
with the world he saw
that was only rationale
just cause and effects
simply products of cycles
thoughts and feelings ring
that all being is the same
but the directions
we'd look and not find the book
that makes it so clear
without print or picture there
that this world's empty
just puzzles without answers
to play rationale
when we're caught in a koan
tone deaf...color bliiinnnd
stan sand