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Chris Saitta Jan 21
Keep your trees, keep them for your heaven of ashen dusk
And night like the pale-faced deathmask of emperors,
No reason that the commoner to oblivion is hushed,
These old-wise woods and leaves, peopled without us.

Keep Macedonian dust lightly conquered over the breeze,
So that it shoots its tail like the centuries-sole comet,
The scorched earth left by Alexander’s mapmaker eyes,
Swung wide like his Sarissophoroi over Persian might.

Remember the lesser grove of his teacher Aristotle’s tribe,
They have only slipped their sandals off, to bare themselves
Of sound and the concourse of the foot’s impulse,
Caught the lithesome wind, to flow outside our hearing,
And muse as empire of air and loss and forgotten walks.

Keep your trees and the darkening sky through them
That remind me of the passing into the past.
Never is the poem from tongue of ***** or plow.
Sarissophoroi were Macedonian light cavalry under Alexander, so named for the pikes they carried (sarissa).

Aristotle taught Alexander until his mid-teens.
F A Pacelli Aug 2019
should happiness be our purpose
does it carry the same meaning
aristotle intended for us
we live in a society of addictions
swim in anxious waters
float in melancholy skies
yet demand happiness at every turn
happiness has become
our new addiction
jess May 2018
learning to love yourself
is the greatest lesson of all

cause loving yourself
means being one step closer
to a fullfilled life

-maybe thats what aristotle would say nowadays
sunprincess Jan 2018
Choices, choices are so difficult  
Socrates, Plato, Aristotle,
With whom should I spend my day?
With whom should I go?
With whom?
To an enchanting place,
So serene,
Speaking of things unearthly,
Things unseen
With whom should I spend my time?
Listening to birds sing
With whom?
PJ Poesy May 2016
Hail to Thee, Immortal Three
Knowledge we sing on laud
Aristotle, Plato, and Socrates
Philosophy, to be human awed
Teach through time, consciously
Nod not, what others fraud

Socrates taught, Divine Being
God not of brutal Athens’ passions
Entity of Beauty, Truth Seeing
Goodness unseen in day’s fashions
Soul for unalloyed agreeing
Lessons humanities’ compassion

Talk eternal justice, everlasting life
Socrates’ Sovereign Right of Reason
Clearly mind deceived sense’s strife
Invincible perfection be God’s season
Thus, our key to knowledge ever rife
Priests who find this, absolute treason

No church or Socratic school
A barefoot man roamed to teach
Socrates mocked for looking a fool
His speech not one to simply preach
Plato witnesses a martyr’s drool
Cruel hemlock, words did so breach

Handsome aristocratic youth Plato
Followed Socrates’ Eternal Wisdom
But soon to find his own credo
In Medara to find Euclid and freedom
Egyptian geometry to provide dado
To Plato life, expression; not a system

Eternally an artist, Plato did develop
Philosophic circle in Academus groves
Bring Athens, world knowledge envelop
Discretions of sensations, be not oaths
What man may be, an animal jealous
Plato’s allegorical cave found in droves

As Plato once be Socrates’ disciple
So too, to Plato would Aristotle be
Passing comprehension archetypal
Successions of genius’ visions do see
Aristotle taking it step further, as vital
To science of hands-on discovery

And this is where we see a parting
Of two distinctly opposing philosophies
Plato being at odds, with science starting
Aristotle’s truth, finding no apologies
Things not happening by chance imparting
Frivolity of duopoly, dichotomy to Socrates

But a new era has surely now dawned
Science exploring an invisible atom
And the seen and unseen correspond
So to Aristotle’s, Plato’s, Socrates’ datum
Brilliant new philosophies have spawned
An abstract notion of conceived stratum
I have always felt, keeping in mind the masters' theories, but also pushing new limits, we find our own uncovering of discovery.
Julie Grenness Apr 2016
I do ponder on Aristotle,
In  these groves of golden wattles,
Was Aristotle on the bottle?
"What is beautiful?" he asked,
He set us such a puzzling task,
How to define beautiful?
Maybe, things inspirational,
Or, indeed, something admirable,
A pretty verse, so lyrical,
Or scenery beautiful,
Or a woman, lovable,
Maybe it is a life of harmony,
Are these beautiful, prithee?
Excellent question, Sir Aristotle,
Maybe I should hit the bottle.
Feedback welcome.
Homunculus Mar 2016
Enamored of the possible, and racing,
  Through a winding maze of endless choices,  
  Daunted by the obstacles we're facing, and 
  Dizzied by the clamor's many voices,

Shackled by a heavy chain of causes,
  Binding us to all we've ever known,
  The many paths before us give us pause, as
  We struggle to define which are our own,

Within a world that's not of our own making
    We anxiously await the day we'll find,
    A journey worthy of our undertaking, so
    That purpose in our lives may be defined, but
    
Perhaps our fate condemns us all to wander, and
       Our lives are merely mysteries to ponder
I think this is the first of a series of 5 Shakespearean sonnets based on Aristotle's rhetorical foundations. Telos means an "ultimate object or aim." This particular iteration also owes its driving force to Heidegger's notion of "thrownness" or the idea that we all inherit a ready made world from the history of our predecessors, and struggle against the way the facts which constitute that world condition what is possible for us to achieve within it. The other 4 will be Kairos, Logos, Ethos, and Pathos; and I will be working on and publishing them as they come to me. - Your Humble Servant
Pauline Morris Mar 2016
Crawled inside a whisky bottle
For I am no aristotle

This is my hiding spot for awail
There is no need for 911 to be dialed

I'm only trying to drown my misery
Surly that is plain to see

Please don't shake me out
I need my whisky stout

Let me stay In here for now
I'll find my own way out.....some how
Julie Grenness Jul 2015
How to get a good night's sleep--
Instead of enumerating endless sheep,
Reclining beautifully with Aristotle,
Don't decline, hit the bottle,
What does rhyme with Aristotle?
I ponder parades of passing Axolotls,
Maybe Australia's golden wattles,
Driving by, foot on throttle.
Yes, they all rhyme with Aristotle,
Maybe I shouldn't drink that bottle,
Musing thoughts philosophical,
Aristotle waxing lyrical and logical,
I'll curl up with this learned book,
"What is beautiful?" at Aristotle I'll look,
Far different from enumerating sheep,
Drifting into a good night's sleep.
Bit of fun, what is beautiful, a good night's sleep.  Feedback welcome.

— The End —