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"cts" poems
C is for carpal. Sounds a bit like the word carpet. T is for tunnel. Those things that danger is usually in. S is for syndrome. Can also be used to describe a lot of things.
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May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 11:31 AM UTC
CTS
<•> Good Acts are like Good Poems *"Good acts are like good poems. One may easily get their drift, but they are not rationally understood"* Albert  Einstein Ach, mein guter Kumpel! Ach, mein bester Freund! how could I not have known, the syncopation, the synchronization, between what I write, and the impetuous impetus within, that caustic sense that burns words from my chest directly onto the paper are more than correlated, even causation-ally related after all, you, naturally, the master of relativity but you know me Al,^ I, the quibbler from  NYC* have to have a slightly different take, in my gemeinschaft city of eight million strangers, we always must have eight million and one opinions true dat, when I am on the fifth or sixth stanza, realizing got no clue what the poem is rambling about, but it sounds so good, lovely, pretty words, why ***** it up with scientific rationality? but good acts are easy, uber understood, rationally we live to survive and do what we to make the species survive, common sense triumphs, disguised as sacrifice, forgetting to roll the dice, doing what comes like a good poem, and what needs doing or writing is so intuitively obvious, just love poetry, a global necessity so check out Houston in two thousand and seventeen here's hoping life in heaven ain't boring   know that you've seen, peeked, peaked, at the theory of everything, resolving the contradictions between general laws of physics and those pesky tiny quantum mechanicals, even solving that 'other' equation GA = GP
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Sep 5, 2017
Sep 5, 2017 at 6:53 PM UTC
Good Acts are like Good Poems (for poets and physicists)
<•> Good Acts are like Good Poems *"Good acts are like good poems. One may easily get their drift, but they are not rationally understood"* Albert  Einstein Ach, mein guter Kumpel! Ach, mein bester Freund! how could I not have known, the syncopation, the synchronization, between what I write, and the impetuous impetus within, that caustic sense that burns words from my chest directly onto the paper are more than correlated, even causation-ally related after all, you, naturally, the master of relativity but you know me Al,^ I, the quibbler from  NYC* have to have a slightly different take, in my gemeinschaft city of eight million strangers, we always must have eight million and one opinions true dat, when I am on the fifth or sixth stanza, realizing got no clue what the poem is rambling about, but it sounds so good, lovely, pretty words, why ***** it up with scientific rationality? but good acts are easy, uber understood, rationally we live to survive and do what we to make the species survive, common sense triumphs, disguised as sacrifice, forgetting to roll the dice, doing what comes like a good poem, and what needs doing or writing is so intuitively obvious, just love poetry, a global necessity so check out Houston in two thousand and seventeen here's hoping life in heaven ain't boring   know that you've seen, peeked, peaked, at the theory of everything, resolving the contradictions between general laws of physics and those pesky tiny quantum mechanicals, even solving that 'other' equation GA = GP
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