In his head
A small factory
Producing
Packages of wisdom
Personnel
Cooperating
With unprecedented brilliance
The observers
The processors
The creators
All contributing
To a brand new theory
Unfortunately
The packages
Won’t be sent
The fear
Of incompleteness
Interfering with development

Oh logician
If the world could only
Feel
Your passion
Behold
Your creativity
Your theories
Would dominate the world

Sensation, intuition, feeling, and thinking,
Is wrapped inside a ball,
A small pink ball inside our head,
That won't stop till we're dead,

Analytical bedrock inside oozing theories,
Elemental atoms sizzling logic,
The imaginative stranger,
One abstracted and eccentric,

Walking with shadows,
Talking and mocking,
Through these theories inside us,
Tilting our caps ‘til we’re shaking our heads,

Pensive love in storming analysis,
Sapiosexually excited, piqued interest,
Unemotional and thoughtfully attuned,
Absently minded, always condoned,

Unconventional and impartially stringed,
Weirdly wired in auxiliary functions,
Misconstrued and misunderstood,
An ****** intelligence bleeding paranoia,

Knocking unto me,
Into you, inside us all,
It’s something we all yearn to be,
And when you fail and prevail we laugh,

Crickling crickets thinking nothing,
Washing down the storm drain,
With no thoughts fluidly sliding down my throat,
Pop goes no questions into absolute concise words like freshly broken glass,

Again shadows await, but different shadows,
Blinking at me staring at you,
Wondering what’s what, inside this dementia made sense of a lovely afternoon,
Inside your sane, autocorrected, predetermined, twitching, little…mind.

Inspired by Myers Briggs Personality Test
Tyler is INTP... Logician  (Introverted INtuitive Thinking Perception)
The drifter, dreamer the absent minded professor!
SassyJ is INTJ... Architect  (Introverted INtuitive Thinking Judging)
The starry-eyed idealist manoeuvring life as if a giant chess board!

What Myer Briggs personality type are you?... See link below
It would be great to know.Please comment!!
http://www.16personalities.com/intp-personality

The best of logicians make the worst of lovers,
They do not believe in four-leaved clovers
Logicians know what's done is over
Lovers in love-drunkenness don't often think sober.

Logic is a thing of "the free men".
And lovers are not free especially when
They are chained to emotion and even then,
Love lets them fly free over tall feet ten.

When love set's you free, you cannot be caught
In so deep, haunting, immersing right thought.
When logic makes you free, love does not.
When love makes you fly, logic does naught.

There's no middle ground, there's no in between.
Only one or the other, only one could have been.
Tis a truth that only I might have seen,
So deep for someone who's merely a teen.

To concur, I say that even I don't know
Of on which side I would dare go.
I could have both, maybe, although,
Only one will reign a worthy glow.

500

Within my Garden, rides a Bird
Upon a single Wheel—
Whose spokes a dizzy Music make
As ’twere a travelling Mill—

He never stops, but slackens
Above the Ripest Rose—
Partakes without alighting
And praises as he goes,

Till every spice is tasted—
And then his Fairy Gig
Reels in remoter atmospheres—
And I rejoin my Dog,

And He and I, perplex us
If positive, ’twere we—
Or bore the Garden in the Brain
This Curiosity—

But He, the best Logician,
Refers my clumsy eye—
To just vibrating Blossoms!
An Exquisite Reply!

as almost every man is born into a pentagonal womb of experiencing the world, a few are born into a hexagonal womb.

to exact Aristotelian logic is to
construct sentences in accordance
with some form of agreement
or disagreement -
               which also concerns the already
stated example above: talk of
sharpening the knife - *as almost every man -
also knows as: attempts to brush of
details under the rug -
   and as Nietzsche said, although
alternatively: beyond universals and particulars -
because who has enough spare time
to think up measuring that ****** concern
for exactness? no one...
unless you're doing the greatest philosophical
feat, as in exacting solipsism
         toward the most adulterous
translation of images into words,
  and backing up words into images (or
copyrights of noun-images) - after all...
wasn't the crucifixion the most excruciating
experiment in proving the point of solipsism?
exactly that: the god-man status as sheltered
by solipsism... so he basically ignored the
poor ******* and said: i'll reach Adam
or god-like status and get myself crucified...
the crucifixion as a spectacle is a form
extracting solipsism...
  Judas ***** off and the thief on the left...
somehow the thief on the right is redeemed...
nonetheless, what a mighty gesture...
instead of the forgiveness of sin,
we get the basics of what solipsism invites...
not a **** on an over-crowded train
but a crucifixion... **** on me...
given it's the 21st century, this wouldn't
pass if the Vatican had any power,
or the orthodox publishing industry...
**** the money, i'm just glad it's out...
but isn't it? he crucified himself in order
to be the supreme soloist...
                    it was only him and everyone else
was.. according to the Islamic calendar lunar
year and doctrine: a phantom...
which Islam borrowed from the original
phantom theory in Gnostics' heresy...
         my my... what a long way toward Arabia...
you have you Arabian Shakespeare with
the Merchant of Mecca and all...
i just think he was a selfish *******...
read the theory? god ***** a ******,
god marries the ******... not even the Greeks
kept up...
                               but still the glottal
juice stream out one name: Malachi's mistake...
Malachi's mistake.... Malachi's mistake...
a god in fractions.... reincarnation from
polytheism adapted to monotheism means
god's in fraction, not a non-divisible number,
whether 1, 2 or 3...
                              yes, i'll be obnoxious enough
to reiterate this point...
             no, my revision of Aristotelian
logic is not based on words, but akin to mathematics
based upon units of sound, not units of meaning:
  i.e. if you can write 1 + 1 = 2
              and you can write a + b + l + e = able
and understand that word... you're a logician
like anyone...
                                 obviously the higher tier
of logic is identifying the word able as an
adjective - but even i don't do that...
                     nor do i press matters into arithmetic
of juxtaposing words into a coherent sentence:
if it feels good... it's right.
so there's me... farting in a crowded train
solipsism... and there's he: getting crucified on
Golgotha... we're both proving the same point...
my proof is peppered with diffusion...
          his proof is peppered with infusion...
he needs the sacredness of icon...
                  done in a shady alley in Jerusalem
and the news wouldn't even spread beyond Lebanon...
              strange... being antisemitic when only
damning one individual...
                               feels much like any thrill seeking
event might...              only because he's so
sacred... when in fact only selfishly seeking the ultimate
god-like solipsism -
                                   easier for people to
bend their knees if you're hanging than sitting
comfortably on a throne...
                  always was... always will be.
but more to the point - i see dead people -
the star of david phrase - not content
  with being pentagon farmers readied for
a completely fluency in the sensual world...
women, wine and song... and sweat...
         a few of us reach the potential of the hexagon...
a sixth inkling concerning the world...
          but, mind you, the sixth limb is a coagulation
of all the faculties available to us...
          a total of the fractions taken from us
to experience a total pentagon immersion in the world:
    a quarter of our heart went into it,
a fifth of our thought went into it,
                         an eighth of our imagination went into it,
and so an so forth...
                            i too wish i had the capacity to
never experience the hexagon...
              and be a fully-hot-blooded-mammal pentagon
worth a rare stake of fancies...
                    eager hollering boxing matches,
crying at football matches... i wish...
                    i wish... i really do...
but then i'm the person who tells you:
               crucifixion, or the adamant need to
stage a solipsistic exit and drag Europe into the dark ages.

three specialists travel in their car
down Victoria, Australia
through rural Mildura
and they see fields
and a black cow standing in one

“Cows in Mildura,”
announces the astronomer
“are black”

“Tchk! Tchk!” says the logician
(Eminent Professor Emeritus)
“Some cows in Mildura are black”

“Let’s express it with precision,”
says the Mathematician
*“It is exact to say
there is at least one field
in Mildura
with at least one cow
of which at least one side is black”

Is God a logician?
Scholars say his plan - intelligent
For no better meta magician -
Could we ever want -

Is Devil an executive?
Marauding as capable of contrition -
Soul - substance - capitulate -
To terms - conditions -

Cozenage be vein of her parsimony
deciphering unlikely by any logician
witchcraft concealed in metrical composition
She jerks one’s tears with great acrimony
as selfish rhymes sings no just harmony

Carefully she devises alliterative pull
this to an ear, dare sound enchanting
how known better be most common ranting
Twists words with lilt but not essence full
leaving some to say, “such pulled wool”

Speaketh she, as from long faraway world
this strange poetess be not one at all
seasoned sailor know she blow tall squall
Serpent’s tongue flailing and twice twirled
young sailor I suggest, keep sails securely furled