"cogito" poems
I doubt,
Therefore, I think
Therefore, I am.
I see.
I take in the colours around me.
The patterns, the lights, the rainbow.
I see the night, and the stars that glow.
I dream.
Therefore, I think.
Therefore, I am.
I smell.
The perfumes, the roses.
The stench, the rotten, the putrid.
The aromas, cooking.
The green, the forest, the trees.
I inhale,
Therefore, I think.
Therefore, I am.
I hear.
The noises. The people, the cheer.
The wails, the screams, the tears.
The rejoicing and happiness.
I hear.
Therefore, I think.
Therefore, I am.
I taste.
The sweetness, the fire.
The treats and savoury delights.
The sourness, the bitterness.
I eat,
Therefore, I think.
Therefore, I am.
I speak.
Short messages. Long speeches.
Quiet whispers. Bellowing noises.
I scream,
Therefore, I think,
Therefore, I am.
I feel.
The despair, the fear, the anguish.
The joy. The pride. The seething.
The envy, greed, and jealousy.
The cold, the heat, the shivering.
The pain, the sickness, the ageing.
I die.
Therefore, I lived.
Therefore, I was.
Dec 28, 2018
Dec 28, 2018 at 6:32 PM UTC
Philosophical epistemology strumming adventures
Albeit, coherent mental decoding stratifications structured
Supposedly our world rests in our minds, revolving knowledge
An entwine of conceptual abstract flowing within oneself
The mind in the “I” the “I” a reality lived in my experiences
George of Leontini, a mine mind approving solipsism exploring innatism
Imaginative insights that nothing exists, the secrets secreting secrets
The knowledge behind the veils that remains un-communicated
A reverse of normality and known existences, moral disposition
Hypothesis of depersonalizations, adventures of self internalization
Justifications for what lies outside the Medulla Oblongata
Skepticism and just alternatives to western philosophy
Subjective unapproved experiences only robust in one’s mind
Descartes abstraction of inner experiences, reciprocated paradigm
Intuitively, perceived lived formulations of "Cogito Ergo Sum"
Psychological conscious undoubted individualistic thoughts
Berkley explored perspectives that physicality is an embodiment of the mind
The mind a decoding visualizer, that encompass the non-existent
An idealism marriage of ‘metaphysical’ and epistemological philosophy
The intense esoteric “dualism” verses the fiery “monism” reality
Mind boggling differentiated truths bleeding with blinking unresolvable hypothesis
The jiggered methodological, streamlining the un -logic sequential beats
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 11:56 AM UTC
.it's called pronoun usage focused upon the experience of claustrophobia, or rather, the lack of... hence: one thinks in order for one to be... unus, cogito, unus se, per ergo; these people went after grammar... not a good idea; i've had my doubts... but... i also have my... rigid beyond religious orthodoxy credos... infringed upon denials! grammar is one of them!
well...
if we're going to go about our
verbiage as we've done...
pronouns...
sorry...
i have to do this...
or rather...
one has to resort to this...
one must think / hinge on such
matters...
one must execute such...
"inconveniences"...
one must, press on such
matters...
just so, one is able...
to counter the trans- pronoun usage...
with a royal,
pronoun usage;
happy?!
go on... two is able...
two think...
figure it out... tow along;
as a Nascar wreck...
because started thinking...
is pluralism intact
pluralism... on the basis of
an isolated instance of
a disfranchised base within
the confines of He... or She?
no?
well... the royal pronoun
intervention...
as one would expect...
or rather, as one would hope so...
hello?!
i think the lunatics have run
the asylum long enough...
their supposed asylum,
formerly known as society?
not good enough...
call the guys in the white coats
that... everyone seems to fear.
Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 8:22 PM UTC
I don't know much about things and life. I'm not a business man who has ideas as to how to multiply a dollar into two. I think of value in time. And I may not have lived long enough to say I'm an expert. I claim none of that. I do know for the past decades of my consciousness I have been a human. I have had a steady pulse and oxygen flowing through my lungs. I can feel myself and know cogito ergo sum. My life has not led me to any absurd epiphanies. In fact, I only have one request of my cells so long as they thrive. I wish for them to resonate with the thump thump of another's vivacious metabolism; dissect my cardiac walls and place an individual cell of mine near yours and I would need no Buddhist teaching to tell me i have achieved nirvana when I see that molecular aspect of me sync with you. I could not ask of you to do the same; a point that would **** you to make but I trust in my blood enough to know we share the same vitality and that if I am one with you, you've accepted my aura into you.
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 12:31 PM UTC
I can hear them. There is not one, but might be hundreds of them lurking behind these rickety wood walls.
He is watching. The party has always been watching. I can control my thoughts. Cogito ergo sum. This is my world, no one can touch me. These are my thoughts, my heart beats for what is good for me. My hands scrawling, my brain is just scribbling.
Yet, I’ve known from the start that I am a dead man.
I didn’t commit adultery, I followed them. I am alive, I can feel my heart racing. My blood all over my body... reminds me why I’m here. To survive and live, yet I am still a dead man.
I am no mute, but I can’t speak. While writing this I can picture my hands and feet with shackles, wounds of torture. I’ve been always a dead man.
The prole doesn’t know. They need to know. They should stop listening or watching the telescreen. They should strive to dig the Oldspeak.
Oh, right. Who dares to doublethink against a totalitarian regime anyway?
The guns are always on their hands. The war is always going. It’s always here. The past... is always here. We don’t see it, but it’s here! There’s nowhere to run or hide, the world tried.
I will be the next unperson, vaporising in the history of Oceania. They won’t remember. They’ll try not to remember. We are a nobody. Winston was right. I can feel the boot stamping on my face. This is the future.
My voice... is a thought crime, will never be accepted in this society.
I am a dead man.
I am ready... the Thought Police has been always watching me. The INGSOC. Big Brother. I will never love him!
But I am ready to be trap in the place where there is no darkness. I am ready... for the Ministry of Love.
I won’t ever, ever love Big Brother!
I do not care, for I am already a dead man!
Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 10:38 PM UTC
"Utter Nonsense"
these are the
first ordered syllabic constructs
that breach
the vocal chords
this day
thereby establishing
the mirror of the
Descartian Principle:
*ergo cogito, ergo sum
je pense, donc je suis
I think, therefore I am*
these words prove logically the
Left Footian Principle:
*incredulus non ero
je n'y crois, donc je ne suis pas
I disbelieve, therefore I am not*
this is all just
utter nonsense
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 11:26 AM UTC
---
I think
therefore I AM
- Descartes -
---
I AM
therefore i
thank!
- soulsurvivor -
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 3:31 PM UTC
It seems as Mr. Sun kneels down to pray
each night the earth below responds—a ray
of light, across a pool of shade, tired earth
at rest in night’s still arc. Thus the earth’s worth,
all its gracious growing, is a topic
for admiration, a philanthropic
metaphor, a formal language, found fierce,
found daunting—like armor no light can pierce.
Still, Mr. Sun looks down. Is gravity
his slave? All night his informality
will keep less certain syllogisms fun.
Cogito, ergo sum. It thinks. The sun,
so startling to man—its violets,
its rose—will be enough. Thus, it forgets.
Jun 20, 2010
Jun 20, 2010 at 2:20 PM UTC
For eons stood in darkness,
Only didn’t know what ‘twas.
No sight nor thought nor touch of sound
No now, if, then, because
And that which I now call myself
Knew nothing of all this
And was content just not to know
That I did not exist.
Then what should hap, but on the lights
Did blaze with fury and with sound
And I could not then just ignore
That there was is around.
I blink still in the warm, new light
But now begin to doubt.
If I was not before the lights,
What then, when they go out?
May 9, 2011
May 9, 2011 at 8:05 PM UTC
I think, therefore I am.
(5) the possible poems lurk about, here a title,
there a verse without a home, and, despite
cogitating brings no fusion, no unity or home
heading, where the sigh of conjoining both
brings mental ******** organic relief, worth.
(6) the temperature now cool regularity, enough that
a distinctive line crossed, setting from Cool to Heat,
an inflection point of persona, weather, aging,
daytime whispers can no long be avoided,
a choral crescendo, delayed by lazy summer illusions
that permitted us to put off abnormal life as normal.
(7) I think, therefore I am, but I do not feel,
sufficiently, therefore I write a title here,
verse there, but no poem completes because,
as I update my list of people I worry about, I am,
ineffectively yours, lacking answers for you, in all
our present tenses, some of you are on it, even if no notification
sent, selfishly pondering if my name appears on someones list
*ah, these miscarriages of miscellaneous mumbles don’t
qualify as worthwhile, so I pre-apologize for wasting your time
trying, pushing myself to go from thinking, of you, so, therefore
you exist, but if I cannot give you the feelings deserved, then,
what good am I?*
conundrum.
11:26 AM Sat Oct 10
2020
Oct 10, 2020
Oct 10, 2020 at 11:39 AM UTC
what a shy event,
considering it,
to be supposed
to encompass, "life"..
a few fractures,
and an antithesis
of the river of Heraclitus...
the stillness of
the lake...
whereby Narcissus
was born...
from the philosopher
of the river,
to the demigod of the lake...
to the god of the sea...
grandfather god Poseidon
begot
the father demigod
of Narcissus...
who begot the son
Heraclitus...
what the sea is,
is what the river encapsulates,
which is what
the lake will never be...
the paradigm,
the writing of Heidegger...
spurned me to think,
to think, rather than "to be"...
how much of
cogito ergo sum
is ontologically, "satisfying"?
probably the nil of it...
counter Latin: in german:
denken werden sein?
oh, the shit-list goes on and on...
denken als sein?
reiterate that for me...
in Latin...
thought as the becoming
of being...
in German, first...
denken als die werden von sein...
now in Latin:
cogitatio quod dacens ex esse...
you know that almost all of
my childhood friends ended up
in prison?!
i'm just an oddity...
i infiltrated the theater of
intellectualism...
and i said: bogus, ********
and the supposed lost brimstone!
scent of cooked sulfur that stank
to the high heavens!
free speech, blah blah,
"free" & "thought"...
whatever the **** that means...
an antithesis of a claustrophobia?!
thought?
thought is the equivalent
contraceptive in terms of being...
thought liberates, but also
provides constraints...
thought is a being
that has non-being in its focus...
thought is a "being" that has
non-being as its focal point...
ontologically:
thought is a form of being,
that doesn't necessarily relate to
the existential "arithmetic"
of thought: thus done...
thinking is important,
but it's completely unrelated to being...
the thing itself,
and then... the thing in itself...
and subsequently: the thing for itself...
phenomenon, noumenon,
phenomenon...
since how much of
"thinking" is translated into
"being"?
i guess... not much of it
is ever translated within the confines
of the imagery of a cascade /
a waterfall...
zilch...
not a lot of thought crafts
the impetus to be...
as...
not a lot of being crafts
the impetus to think...
coincidentally a lot of:
out of every instance / insistence:
i.e. existence, happens,
simultaneously to said expression.
sam cooke:
don't know much about history,
don't know much (about) biology,
don't know much about a science book,
don't know much about the french i took,
but i do know that i love you,
and i know that if you love me too,
what a wonderful world this would be...
i could write this candy floss ********
point blank statement with
adverse feelings...
i have a pact of uninhibited
lying...
i could lie... but then lying
requires a prior experience in lies...
and...
i hate the economics of lies...
however much i might cherish
thinking, i seem to have picked
up a pattern whereby:
thinking doesn't translate into being...
so i guess...
as much of thought goes
into being, as it goes into non-being...
and that being said:
what is post-existentialism?
ontology.
Oct 27, 2018
Oct 27, 2018 at 10:33 PM UTC
cogito qua sum
because i thought the original cartesian model
was too stuffy,
had too many scientific models
and was riddled with moths,
plus it sounds better:
thought in the capacity of being -
plus there is absolutely no sequencing,
no sequencing of events and then doubting
that they happened, or denying they happened...
(in relation to thinking about them)
with the above stated you can have spatial awareness...
for example?
someone hammering nails has only a certain
capacity for thinking certain things...
someone watching the television has only
a certain capacity for thinking certain things...
as contradictory in strict cartesian terms
as daydreaming: like sitting in a classroom
learning about english grammar and thinking /
imagining (the same thing, both cognitive faculties)
you're on a beach in the maldives sipping a mojito
or that you're riding a roller coaster:
ergo et cetera... id est, multi vacuum prefix
absens locus in metaphora... ego noto ******
Nov 5, 2015
Nov 5, 2015 at 8:26 AM UTC
In the solace of self
I reside alone time
Not a person I trust
Anymore than my mind
For it knows who I am
It determines the truth
It compels me to peace
Of an alternate root
When I open its doors
With philosophy spores
And cogito of ego
And glistening shores
Beyond lavender meadows
And bottomless pits
Of eternity crumbling like coins
Into bits
Apr 22, 2018
Apr 22, 2018 at 11:37 PM UTC
i wasn't satisfied with the cartesian
cogito ergo sum...
it's not that i couldn't stomach it,
it was just: not enough?
people claim that maxim to be the source
of all subjectivity,
and there's nothing objective about
it.
all this modern talk of subject vs. object,
i had to employ a θήσαύρύς.
i needed a square... a solomon's star,
two squares encompassed against each other,
nothing akin to the star of david...
i mean solomon's star, of two squares
imposed on each other, layered
so you get an oκτάγωνον oktágōnon
oh **** a macron over an omicron = an omega!
oh k'tah goo non...
wait wait... i was going to write something
concrete, and yes, it was based on solomon's star...
6 things -
cogito sum
subjectivity objectivity king david (6)
reflexive reflective
thinking = subjectivity = the reflective
thinking = subjectivity = the reflexive
thinking = objectivity = the reflective
thinking = objectivity = the reflexive king solomon (8)
being = subjectivity = the reflective
being = subjectivity = the reflexive
being = objectivity = the reflective
being = objectivity = the reflexive
(alt. given the atheistic scissors of definite / indefinite articles
of the / a a reflex, a reflection)
what this means is, what's generally thought of as
the tetragrammaton, but it's not four letters,
it's the interpolation of the four main faculties,
that are now seen as tripling up, or call them: cubed;
a lament configuration representation.
thinking is subjective in that it is also reflective
(the narcissus bias)
thinking is subjective in that it is also reflexive
(i need a shave)
thinking is objective in that it is also reflective
(i am ageing)
thinking is objective in that it is also reflexive
(i'll just stop looking into a mirror)...
dear apologies for the geometry of the arrangement
of words, i know you'd love to see a tartan pattern
of interchange, but this **** seems rigid, in the way
that i wrote it... i couldn't find a way to write a b a b
as stated, it only came out as a a b b,
or a b c a b c rather a a b b c c.
but do you see what is even more fascinating than numbers?
the arithmetic symbols... arithmetic symbols
are very much akin to diacritical symbols...
i write an over-simplification of a concept using =,
and then all these conjunctional words pop up!
and yes, in terms of citing heidegger as opposed to
descartes there's a great disparity between
being and i am -
self-evident, being = the sum, a total, Σ,
while i am? it's a unitary representation of the total (sum / sigma)
of the possible mode of being -
it's also called ego interference / pronoun inteference
in the conceptualisation of the cascade that's ergo
into the basin that's dasein.
what philosophy call metaphysics?
linguistics call orthography...
what chemists call para- positioning on
a benzene ring;
or what non-chemists call the paranormal.
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 1:31 PM UTC
"I think therefore I am" Descartes once said
But with no thought left is one then dead?
For now, my head is full of thought
Some is random and some was taught
I fight so hard to keep it full
Against inevitable ageing's pull
I'll write my words, do crosswords too
Anything that will stir my stew
I'll fight it every which way too
By always finding things to do
But if it finally comes to pass
You'll find me in the old long grass.
In the warren that is my mind
I remember that I must be kind
Ere long will I remember that
Growing frail is such a ****
©Joe Wilson - Frailty... 2014
"Cogito ergo sum" "Je pense, donc je suis" Rene Descartes (31 March 1596 – 11 February 1650)
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 10:52 AM UTC
i think you want
the best for me,
therefore I am
and will always
try my best for you.
© Matthew Harlovic
Sep 7, 2016
Sep 7, 2016 at 1:56 PM UTC
Remove a book from a library and it stands still the same.
Remove another and one more, and onwards in this way.
How long can you continue, for how many days,
Before no library is before you, and the concept starts to fray?
Now take the man before you, what he is is made through change.
What is it within him that makes past and future the same?
The body has continued, though clearly grown and aged.
Who he is now is content, your idea of him a frame.
His mind is still his own, though it has turned the page.
"Cogito ergo sum" the old Cartesian phrase.
How he thought before can be said as but a phase
And how he thinks is who he is. The man stood here has changed.
But still there's keen resemblance that you're clearly keen to hold.
Is he the same man young, as he'll be when he is old?
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 4:32 PM UTC
We exist because we think
or we think because we exist?
I see my existence in your eyes.
I exist because you think of me.
I exist because with you
I don't need to think about myself.
I don't exist when I don't live in your imagination.
I don't exist when I don't live in your thoughts.
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 12:51 PM UTC
When do
the thinking machines
come on the scene
10 yrs to fear
some say more like
a fright in 30 or 40
but on this path
do the math
and it will most surly happen
if we are still here
someday shed a tear
when computers say
cogito ergo sum
inorganic panic
faster to think
in a blink
knowing more
then ever you or I could
if the strongest survive
how do you and I thrive
after creating our replacements
Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 8:01 PM UTC
Yes, I am closing your eyes for you.
It's good that way. What is wrong with not seeing?
Can't you still hear and touch or feel?
I would gladly describe for you what runs crookedly before my face:
Thousands of trumpets without whispers or meaning.
Yes, and it tastes so rich, like plaster-- white, average plaster.
Your songs, your opinions and meaning are, without vision,
pale, cool and evaporous, as April rainbows.
Therefore you all want to de-color them and call such rainbows
black-and-white compositions.
Well then, sweetheart, why are you sad? Have you not slept with your dreams of neutral rainbows?
Twice--
Eaten, your plaster-filled silence?
Four times--
And been drunk with the aroma of moist soil? ONCE.
.Lewd.
"Ego cogito nihil"
Can you, after all, read?
Never, without the eyes--
Mar 11, 2012
Mar 11, 2012 at 6:55 PM UTC
Cogito, ergo sum
But what do I think?
And what, pray tell,
What effect does this have
On my being?
If what I constitute
Is alone, based on action,
Based on thought
What can we say of man today?
Jun 7, 2023
Jun 7, 2023 at 2:56 PM UTC
Here we go again. Memories creeping in uninvited on their tip-toes to bring more of those forbidden thoughts back to the spotlight. Night after night, I play misery's favorite game of 'how many times can I say I miss you in a minute'? Anyway I spin it, I'm still neck deep in it - in this masochistic prison without a single vision of breaking out.
It's a life sentence of my glass always being half-empty and everything that could be said has been, so I'm carving poetry into the page as if this rage will ever equal more than pain and damage. But this stage keeps calling me back for more, with or without an audience, I'm going to shout these words out so loud it'd make the ******* Dragonborn proud.
Because truth be told, none of these rhymes will turn to gold and all these times I've broke the mold I've done it to make a statement. It's always come with an apology like late rent, but I've always known that I did what I meant and I meant what I did.
But you can bid a million dollars on a foot-ladder and it won't become the stairway to heaven. But see, I've got more fuel than a 7/11, I've got the energy and the drive to make this work. I'm not about to give you a play-by-play of my everyday just so you can understand me but if you can just stand me... it's a good way to start.
You clutch your bleeding heart time and time again over who did what, why, where and when and I might need a venn diagram to discern the difference between good and evil sometimes but the best rhymes come out when you aren't quite sure what you're doing and I've been chewing my nails long enough to know that anxiety is a side 'a' me that is slowly dying away. Until the day that roots plant trees and hairless dogs get fleas, I'm not letting go of these precious memories for they have made me what I am.
Cogito ergo sum, I think therefore I become - everything I've ever wanted to be. The only thing holding me down was the lack of conviction, but now I've got an eviction notice for all these **** doubts I've harbored, so I toss them over starboard and now I'm on my way. Good day, ladies and gents. It's been a gas.
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 7:24 PM UTC
Seeing someone every day
is not seeing them,
not in the way of knowing
ourselves, marked by a milestone on a rocky trail
or a spring growing back with azaleas and pollen
and a canopy of elms.
Instead the confetti of moments we’ve traveled together
whirl into the patternless vortex of now
and we don’t know where we find ourselves.
Yet I thought of you the other day
and a painting you gave to me when we first loved.
It showed a man diving into the ocean toward mermaids
Who sat on an island, watching.
Next to the image were words from a Jerry Butler song,
“Isle of the Sirens,” about a ship’s crewman lured by temptation.
"The voices got louder
They sing beautiful things in my ear
I must go to that island of women
I must see these creatures I hear
Love is blind and desires have no fear."
The captain warns him that surrendering
to the siren song is a betrayal.
"Keep course, cried the Captain
Ignore them and let them be
Straight ahead, cried the Captain
Set on by and stay free
Remember laws of mutiny"
The man jumps anyway.
"'Old man, you know nothing
Of temptation
And desires are heaven to me.'
And off he leaped into the sea."
When you showed this to me, at first I thought I
was the man, giving in to temptation.
Only later did I understand that you were the man,
A black woman hearing a siren song
from a white man who lured her with desire and love.
We know the fate of those who leap at the sirens’ lure.
You broke the laws of mutiny.
Something in my daily cogito has kept this memory close,
reminds me that you leapt
And you’re still here.
Here we are now, in the time of COVID-19,
alone together, shut out of the world,
sleeping in each other’s shadow
bored by each other’s demons,
walking past the blank of each other’s mirrors.
But I still hear that song.
Can you still hear it, love?
Would you still make the leap?
Aug 9, 2021
Aug 9, 2021 at 8:58 PM UTC
they want to read you and not think, so too they want to read you and not see, they hardly care for punctuation necessarily used, so who's out there to please? n'ah really, i was onto something, i meant that if the Kantian thing-in-itself was applied to the cartesian expression, either thinking-in-itself or being-in-itself is jested at, then we can explain the freedoms of disobedience and obedience, truthfulness and falsehood, and the parody of paradoxes, as highest claimants the claimants: (singular plural) choice - whereas will (plural adjective congregating into singular) is always a butterfly fluctuation of measuring an exactness akin to dating and remembering 1066 the battle of Hastings.
mingle Kant with Descartes and you get thought as the
per se existence - splitting into either fact of coining
phrases or robbing someone: no doubt (existential
good faith) and certainly no denial (existential
bad faith) - mingle Kant with Descartes
and you get the twins
cogito ergo sum mingling with noumenon,
and thus somewhere along the line
you get to see the membrane of the zygote,
like the thought behind a criminal life
where the life is unexplained because the thought
of such a life is "easily" accessed,
so too in reverse, i.e. being a councillor
or a clerk makes such thinking easily explained
for the prop of the life lived "easily" justified via
the person trading tomatoes or lamb shanks
to keep you unthinking in a bureaucratic role.
Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 7:50 PM UTC
I am an Ego
whose heart is revolting,
who with the poetry is flirting,
who knew in this life the pain,
but never lost the power of her brain.
I am an Ego
like anyone else who has complexes,
who dreams at perfect morning's reflexes,
who breaths deeply and tries to sing dearly,
but knows both sides of her life's story, clearly.
I am an Ego
who likes the good evenings in two,
who no longer wants rain, that's true,
who left on life's trip with a single backpack,
but has not allowed her soul to become insomniac.
I am an Ego
waiting on the platform for destiny's train,
who no longer wants illusions in vain,
who does not live listening to the rumours,
but wants, by poetry, to get rid of life's tumours.
I am an Ego
who thinks that still has a chance to complete,
who, after falling, is getting back on her feet,
who is the observer of the world's fuss and art,
but still hopes for the calm of her restless heart.
Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 3:10 PM UTC