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S Bharat Apr 9
In The Engulfing Sea

On the voyage sets out a crew,
In the engulfing sea
Where the storms of thoughts brew,
A sound comes "Save me",
On the board is a man taken new
Saved, seeking peace
Who has his journey to pursue
And always feel at ease;
Where he finds Jesus Christ grieve
For His innocent children,
On the shaft, Socretis decipher dew
Supposed mad by men,
Exploring world Darwin and a Jew
The origin and the gale,
Tukarama explaining Chitta to few
Thinking on smaller scale,
The ways for salvation Buddha hew
To avoid painful death,
Shakespeare saying; "Brutus, You
Too" during last breath.

S. Bharat
Paul Butters Jan 22
In the final analysis
We are but colonies of bacteria
Swimming about in our own primordial soup.
Who knows what pacts and treaties
Have been made within our very bodies?

Aeons and aeons of evolution
Have led to this:
The human being.

So much mindless life,
Following instinct,
Building and building
To produce intelligence.

Natural Selection,
Seen by Darwin,
Such a beautiful thing –
Presented by Attenborough on a silver screen –
God’s Formula:
The mark of Genius.

Paul Butters

© PB 22\1\2019.
Inspired by TV Programme "Life on Earth" - David Attenborough 1979.
Aaron LaLux Sep 2018
Darwin’s Coffee ***

Not enough coffee in the ***,
to keep me awake through this daydream,
not calling the kettle black I’m calling us all containers in this melting ***,
so I try to keep myself in shape by staying gluten free,

going for the long shot,
like I’m shooting a 3,
all in like a Hotshot,
no hotdogs just coleslaw and greens,

what a trip it is this life I lead,
right now I’m in at a hotel on a beach,

in a town called Darwin,
in The Northern Territory,
which is ironic because I’m pondering,
the thought that maybe we’re all aliens,

or at least have 10% extraterrestrial in our genes,
which makes us extraordinarily extra special,
plus it supports my theory that we’re all aliens,
seriously Google Missing Genetic Link,

give it a think,
humans themselves are the Missing Link,
and even Charles Darwin can’t solve the problem,
of not being able to connect our missing link,

and I want to keep writing about it,
but I think instead I’ll go for a swim in the sea,
because I’m tired of writing the water looks inviting,
and not only that but I’m both exited and sleepy,

Not enough coffee in the ***,
to keep me awake through this daydream…

∆ LaLux ∆
ryn Jul 2018
Been away awhile...

Contemplating stars.
Counting moons and suns.
Painting skies.
Deciphering clouds.
Writing in sands.

And missing you.
Quantum physics says electrons are lazy.
(They have no position, momentum, or spin
when there’s no-one looking in on them).
Take a second to catch your breath,
for that literally means:
the world is a weird TV show,
its content new each time it’s viewed.

Who knows the morning grass’s real face
when all we see is reflected light
from a giant ball of gas in time and space?
And to make matters worse,
thanks to Darwinian fruits
springing from evolutionary roots,
our hungry eyes, in their perpetual search
for food and *** and shelter,
heavily condition the content of perception:
while a mere 25 percent of snakes have venom,
if you want to stay away from heaven,
it’s better to believe there’s poison in every species
just in case you tumble on one in the jungle…

If there is no Earth beyond
our seeing, smelling, and telling of it,
maybe that bonkers Bishop Berkley
was barking the right tune:
if there are no “public objects”
in some “preexisting space”
then I object to the appellation of
the “public bench” in the park,
a useful fiction like Noah’s Ark,
in the utilitarian utopia
of daily linguistic *******.

Of course, if the idealists are right,
then this explains why aches and pains
are transformed by our mere attention to them!
Meditation would thus be so more
than the chore of intellectual *******
and don’t get me started on the meaning of hallucination…
A kind of semi-poetical regurgitation of the many ideas going through my head about various schools of philosophy, notably the convergence between ancient Eastern and Western idealism, Darwinism, cognitive science, and quantum physics...
Ken Rafiñan Mar 2018
to walk along blurred lines of the indefinite,
to hide behind shadows of doubts,
and to be surely unsure and seemingly unstable.

Change is constant,
when change is the constant.

Perhaps the only truth
and absolute
among and underlying
all those known
and unknown
to our limited senses prone
to bias and flaw.

When entropy is the end,
chaos is the order,
and so: order is chaos.

When then presents itself is a profoundly socio-biological paradox:
part-Darwinian, post-Machiavellian.

We do
what we do,
have to,
need to—
to survive.

To adapt: adjust: evolve: involve: our selves,
and egos.

At the expense of whom?

Of you by me,
of me by you,
of we by he and she,
of us by them,
of ours by theirs...

The mutual ****** of dialectical discourse furthers the shared agenda:
an equality that's mutually consensual
constructed on an equity that's purely contextual.

The compromise is contracted,
and it demands sacrifice:
a constant contestation:
the needless negotiation—
forming a truth that's between tentative
and relative.

Some kind of equilibrium whose balance is contrast;
an investment in the arbitrary entropy of the situationship.
Samantha Feb 2018
I have some pretty unpopular opinions.

Acts of stringing string cheese have always seemed so wrong!
Maybe people say I'm strange because I like some songs.

And that's just the beginning...

Being human, so many think that microwaves pose danger.
I can't imagine why you'd think that radiation's any stranger.
Getting some exposure is sure to not endanger!

Word for wet: "moist?" I don't exactly hate it.
Everyone seems to, though, so I don't bother to debate it.
I don't think that sidewalks are dangerous if they're cracked.
Right! That's not an opinion, it's a cold hard fact.
Definitely, it's a hazard to leave vaccines ignored.
Oops, some disagree! Time to give Darwin Awards.
Can you find the secret sentence? My last three poems should give a hint!
Have you ever
kissed a tree
or even listened
to the wisdom
of its trunk
unmoved by
gossip and glamour
its leaves fighting
for the sun
but the roots know
that deep below
the fields where
the flowers grow
is where the water’s
found and if you
come up close
and really listen
you’ll hear the
sound of the earth’s
beating heart.
The bard of Avon
termed man the
paragon of animals
but Darwin brought us
to the ground
helped us see
that the difference
between me
and the morning birds
is that their song
is heard;
the voice of love
in all of us
is stifled
by expectation
and exploitation
“what can the world give me?”
“what might I give the world?”
so why not
go back to the roots
and listen to the bark
why not
befriend the tree
in the local park
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