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Lawrence Hall Mar 14
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                Socrates on the Courthouse Lawn in Liberty, Texas

                         “Strong minds discuss ideas,
                          average minds discuss events,
                          weak minds discuss people.”

                     -attributed to Socrates, but no one knows

Imagine if you will old Socrates
On an old wooden bench on the courthouse lawn
Playing checkers with all the other old men
On an old picnic table throughout the day

He lifts his old straw hat in the leafy shade
With his old bandana he wipes his old bald head
And sagely asks the old questions of us
And through his dialectic dismantles old cant

And that must be why, as the ages pass
They’ve made for him a monument here in the grass



(While passing through Liberty, Texas I saw on the courthouse lawn a marble slab engraved only with “Socrates”.)

Liberty County Courthouse - TexasCourtHouses.com
Liberty, Texas, Bed & Breakfast Hotels (usatoday.com)
Socrates (Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy)
A poem is itself.
I cast the muse into the sea
to wake her from a peaceful sleep.
This poet’s quill is void of ink;
it needs her words to strike the page.

She’ll fight the waves Poseidon sends
til Sirens drive her back to shore
to sip an oleander brew
and hoist the cup of Socrates.

Bring wolfsbane and a death morel!
Bring nightshade and curare too!
We’ll fatten her with woe and pain!
We’ll ready her for war and hate!

She’ll writhe and quiver, seethe and foam
until she spews her putrid verse
upon the blackened sands of time
from which men’s darkest dreams are built.

And when the gods are satisfied,
when Ares’ sword has slashed and burned,
this poisoned pen will rest at last.
Calliope shall sleep once more.
Pasquino Dec 2020
Cohen wrote of broken praises,
and Shakespeare of unchanging light.
Aurelius of unyielding ways;
Descartes of impossible sights.

An ironic Socrates goes
on to fetch the hemlock cup,
while Nietzsche wanders on to rot,
content, he never drank hemlock.

But now what am I supposed to
believe– which truth is really clear?
When I see your gorgeous eyes– blue
I remember only Virgil, dear:

“Amor vincit omnia, et nos cedamus amori”
The only truth I’ve ever seen.
Ces Jul 2020
Socrates drunk the hemlock
And for once, death has lost its power
to intimidate, enslave
mortality transcended...

Admiration for the brave
the courageous amongst us
Truly, there is more to life
than food
work
***

and *****

Those who live earnestly
are the ones who look inside themselves
proclaiming with great ferocity:

The unexamined life is not worth living!
TOD HOWARD HAWKS Mar 2020
In Plato's description of Socrates' "Apologia," he describes the latter's defense
during the trial of Socrates. Socrates says he is the wisest because he knows nothing about anything, an astute defense. Nonetheless, he is found guilty and sentenced to death. Socrates receives this sentence with equanimity.

In contrast, **** Trump, like Socrates, knows nothing about anything, but unlike Socrates, **** Trump is so ignorant that he is not conscious of his stupidity;  rather, he thinks he knows everything about everything, which not only tells you how deluded he is, at best, but also shows you what an existential threat he is to our nation, and indeed, to the entire world.

I wish Plato were still alive so he could record **** Trump's lunacy. But we still have The New York Times and The Washington Post.

What a Greek tragedy we are living through! But where is the deus ex machina?

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks
A graduate of Andover and Columbia College, Columbia University, Tod Howard Hawks has been a poet and human-rights advocate his entire adult life. He recently finished his novel, A CHILD FOR AMARANTH.
Carlo C Gomez Feb 2020
Nice try,
My didactic friend.
Only the foolhardy would use
A can opener
To pry back the lid to their soul.
If even such a thing were viable,
Which, for the record, no es posible.
But let's say it was,
In a fluffy, touchy-feely kind of way.
Performing surgery
On the immaterial
Makes as much sense
As being a ghostwriter for
A blind man's alphabet soup.
Id doesn't make sense.
Could be the hemlock
Is talking back now.
So drop the act, you gadfly,
And take up cycling.
You might as well enjoy
The scenery along your mind trip,
Sharp turns and all.
Your over-the-counter philosophy
Is quaint, but comes with a price:
Fisher Price.
PoserPersona Jun 2019
The poet speaks on anything
thinking their words are fresh as spring,
logical as philosophy,
and tuned to nature’s harmony



Socrates reasoned that the voice
of poets was not one of choice,
but rather was much inspired
by gods touching minds with fire

The audience finds more meaning
in the mad poet's own ramblings
than the epileptic speaker
himself will ever dare ponder

They speak first on others behalf
as if they are the better half;
fancying themselves conqueror,
fisherman, a seer, and doctor

By what means are they qualified
to serve as humanity's guides?
How do the epics of Homer
make you more than imitator?

Cicero, Plato, Lucretius
Davinci, and Heraclitius:
Rare to find artist and scholar
in the wise true philosopher

Be wary of the charms of rhyme
and seduction of meter’s time
As these are well known to allure
common fools to charleton's words
Eloisa Aguirre Apr 2019
I want to find you
Aristophanes told me about you
And the completion of my soul
Our soul

I want to find you
But Heidegger tells me to wait
Let the wind carry remembrance
Let love find me

I learnt it is possible
Your existence
Maybe you don’t know
But I am possible

I want to live in a van with you
Learn how to love technology
And appreciate what brings us

I want to live in a van with you
Learn to depend on my own
And paradoxically depend on our unison while self-relying

I am tired of planning my tomorrow
I do not wish to have you tomorrow
I wish to find you now

I want to live in a van with you
Travel the world apeiron* gave us
And be alone in the universe
Paradoxically enjoy my solitude with you

I wonder if you sing the same song
And if you are shaped to meet me
And the world I know of

I want to be your nobody
And live alone with you
In a moving home
In a moving truck

I want to hate me
And hate you too
Just to realize hate and love are the same coin just different sides

I want to depend on the harmony
And the tension of true songs
While we learn to fit in each other
And cry in unison

One song
Two souls
One friendship
Two forces
*apeiron: from Ancient Greek philosophy. Originated from Anaximander’s theory on the origin of all. I pair with the meaning of chasm or the chaos Heraclitus talks about before anything existed
Stephen James Mar 2019
i judge wisely
guiding those who step blindly

just like Socrates
delivering
his apology

to the courtroom...

the jury voted to execute the scholar
the masses couldnt stop it

the man spoke with wisdom
and made the teachers look foolish

puzzled institutions
made the students feel clueless

refused to give in
when the verdict was handed

and died as a martyr
in the city of Athens

where knowledge
was passed verbatim

committed to memory
mental dexterity

progresses forward
to clarity

where visions of molecules
from the cuticles to the temples

perpetuates inner space
to leave a trace of verbal pixels

vocal residuals
of intellect and scriptures

delivered, colored, and structured
forming a vivid picture

relinquish to replenish
the thoughts of the gifted

unique with the sequence
to keep it

on the "straight & narrow"
to the finish
a poem
Elena Jan 2019
I think love is what we need in the world.
We needed it so badly we created it. Then we fought over it. And we corrupted it. It even became a disease. Until we found it had a medicinal effect. It could heal.

Love seeps into the ground where we bury it. The decay leaves traces of it. So is love also in death? Love is powerful indeed.

If love can find its way in life and death, it must not be mortal like us. Perhaps we can call it Divine. It must be what we see when we look up to the sky.

That’s why we describe it in so many ways. It flows like the blood in our veins. And when we no longer have the strength in our heart, it becomes the soul of our own.
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