"empirical" poems
Sequacious demonstrative mongrel fantastication
Overt fantasias and monstrance clarification
Rhetorical rote of empirical justification
Whimsical enervations elicit ramification
Incite legendary fables of rectification
Tempestuous mendacious erudite personifications
Endemic epistemological semantics of edification
Evocative illuminism engenders mortification
Judicious spontaneous phantasms of gratification
Numinous salutatory statutes of ratification
Heuristic existentializing empiricisms alleviate confusion
Adamant machismo machinations eliminate delusion
Eulogizing enigma entity’s illustrious illusion
Torridly allusive revelries of reverie effusion
Educing morose maniacal moribundity’s inclusion
Epitomizing empathetic revulsions to corroborate elusion
Probitous erudite solicitations evade contusion
Raunchy riotous accoutrements appreciate exclusion
Optimizing subjunctively torpid recalcitrant collusion
Scenario syntactics of mythically epic allusion
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 9:23 PM UTC
Absence of malice
Her smile whispers
Eyes in agreement
with subtle grace
Indulged gestures
I prearrange
From the first place
am I caught in a haze
With the rate of exchange
and no charming phrase
Exquisite delicacies seem ornamental
yet feels pretty real
her flirtatious displays
No harm
I can still be sentimental
As I take note to compose
then reappraise
Empirical proof
whether artful or not
Her passes are strickly incidental
Feb 27, 2016
Feb 27, 2016 at 7:01 PM UTC
I simply cannot wait,
until the internet
turns public favor
against religion.
In its place,
the medium that
enables globalization
will exalt science.
We will not fear
being wrong.
Instead,
we will embrace
skeptical thinking,
and live according to
a collective consensus
that is based in truth,
and not in fear.
The problem lies
not with your
personal connection
to the cosmos,
but with the
established doctrine
orchestrated by the elite.
Parables and allegory
twisted by the desperation
of power hungry men.
Stories that offer
reasonable moral lessons,
but are mistakenly perceived
to be literal truth.
Religion continues to
justify acts of prejudice
and violence,
in the name of
storybook characters.
We must rise above
our iron age fairy tales.
Heed the positive lessons,
relinquish our fear of death,
and learn to exist
with an open mind.
Survival depends not
on who is the strongest
or who has the best story,
but rather upon a species
willingness and capacity
to adapt and modify
their behavior.
Science is our tool.
It can save us
from ourselves.
It is a collective enterprise
based upon critical analysis
and the constant pursuit of the
cold, hard truth.
We should not fear
what we discover.
For knowledge can be
spiritually fulfilling.
The real beauty of truth
based upon empirical evidence,
is that even if you do not want
to believe it,
it remains true.
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 3:20 AM UTC
Magical cauldron apomixes connoisseur
Cephalic phantasmagoria entity obliquitous
Mystical conjurous conjugal entrepreneur
Fantasia fantastication phantasm obsequious
Amorously arduous ardent raconteur
Ephemeral translucent opulence ubiquitous
Vanity sanctimonium temerities saboteur
Intrepid verve’s intriguingly iniquitous
Sorcerous sabbatical apothegms chauffeur
Endemic veracities fortuitous elicitous
Futurity fatidics fornication kithe
Ephemeral metaphor semantics flaunts
Empirical emulation scenarios blithe
Subjunctive subliminal nostalgias haunts
Agile articulation acuities lithe
Analogizing corroborative prolificacy daunts
Alacritous tactile manipulations writhe
Numinous syntactical paradigm *****
Emanate imminent perdition tithe
Orotund jaded seal ordinand jaunts
Overt convection coercions chiaroscuro tempestuous
Apex crux axis ****** matrix torrid
Manifest objectified enamorous interstice lecherous
Spurt binge spree ***** protuberance squalid
endearingly engendering amore
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 9:51 PM UTC
Both latter and former, contrary and congruent
Neither gas nor solid, the river moves fluid.
No end and no beginning, just water moving… swimming…
A formless former that is a powerful latter
Contradiction through symmetry and space within matter
Passively energetic as potential becomes kinetic
Transparently reflective and silently phonetic
Thermally dynamic and fluidly frantic
The waters maintain a static chaos through mathematical mechanics.
Mechanically architected and architecturally mechanic
Water seems the perfect medium for analysis of a dynamic.
Dynamic existence and persistent resistance
Statically chaotic seems the architect’s insistence.
Equilibriomatic, with addition subtractive
Empirical measures fail to analyze the passive.
What simply is, simply is… Invincible to mimicry or microcosmic reenactment.
Experimental methods seek to unify the synonymous
Attempting to prove the objective with a subjective hypothesis.
Learn from the water, let its metaphor be imminent….
For the divine externality lies not without, but within it.
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 3:53 PM UTC
Regardless how precise the assay of their life,
Most men must remain an enigma;
Their motivation fired by inner strife
A polymorph for which no sigma,
Nor algebraic symbol will suffice.
No If and then which personality
To a course of action thus relates,
Nor can it be hypothesized conditionally,
The turmoil emotion intrinsically creates,
When alone they stare into death's reality.
Two dimensional is the biography of any man.
We see his length and width, never grasping depth,
Though fortune deems we live within his span.
Much like this into my life have crept
Those I love, yet may never understand.
Feb 26, 2012
Feb 26, 2012 at 12:11 PM UTC
I searched for "truth"
I found weakness
Forever doubted theories compromise
To hide their failure through fragile lies
I searched for "justice"
I found corruption
The fairest laws defy morality
And relativity fights equality
I searched for "happiness"
I found the source
Jesus, my almighty savior
I found You in the poor
Help me love my neighbor
The way You love me
To keep this happiness
Flowing inside me
You stand by me
Suture me with Your affection
Understand me
Lead the path to my redemption
Helped me draw
The masterpiece in me
And withdraw
The shackles off me
Somehow, lost within Your stream
I ended up finding "truth"
Personal and general
Strangely irrefutable
The weak you redeemed
Lowered the powerful
Your perfect divine "justice"
Defies my human logic, empirical
yet so vulnerable
~Epic Monkey
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 4:30 PM UTC
tattoo ourselves in electric ink memorializing calendars,
diaries of observantional digits, black on white, no gray,
birthdays, anniversaries, dates of passing, starting lines,
occasional achievements, departure dates, even glaring failures,
sundial mundane records of diurnal habitude…even
defining self by, bye, byte marks upon flesh, upon our calendar
*not my first trip-tracking, he ruefully rues, wry smiling,
many voyages of indeterminate measuring length,
leaving litter of arrays of hopeful estimations & destinations,
each unequal, any or all possibilities, each day notated,
without critique or commentary, the numbers are the
gaols (jails) of goals, target, indeterminate determination,
terrific, horrific, introspections, inverse images resolve, resolute*
a year ago, +/- a few days,, new travelogue commenced,
notated but not annotated, just numerical truths,
(sans comments for the divine nature of numbers don’t lie)
and today my calculator app informs, that I am now
19.4 % lesser, but that clarifies less than expected
naturally this provokes a natty,
spirited, self-inquiry, lessened,
lessor, for better or for worse?
have the physical alterations
accompanying this reduction
mean exactly what,
if, it should be, a greater lesser?
here is the hard part.
your have always been a mirror~poet,
laughing, bemoaning the unvarnished, unshaven
AM sightings of a human perpetual dissatisfied,
the external never denying the interior “less~than,”
a J Peterman catalogue of weathered ****** expressions,
counter-parted by multiple Venn diagram intersections,
of experiential labeled bits & pieces of emotional empirical
less than good, not even close to perfect, so now that I am
*gaunt, spare, lean, grayed, narrower, again ruefully rue,
the even more visible truth reflection eye~hidden:*
I,
am the sum of the weight of my history, my deeds,
my disbeliefs, murderous deeds, weak choices
and that hasn’t changed nary an ounce, no matter
many times examined, indeed I am forever a lesser man,
there, internal infernal
too…
Apr 9, 2023
Apr 9, 2023 at 2:12 PM UTC
I am attracted to you
Like an electron to a proton
Together we form an ionic bond
Though we are opposite charged ions
I am drawn towards you
Our love is unique as an orbital
For only two electrons can fill this space
As my love for you increases
My energy level rises
I am in this excited state
Increasing the tendency to form a chemical bond
I was an element
It took you to make me a compound substance
Falling in love with you is a chemical reaction
Which cause my love for you to grow
Ours is an exothermic love
Each for giving off love not just absorbing it
Sometimes you do something especially nice
Which speeds up the chemical process
Like a catalyst in my increasing love for you
I realise we have our inhibition periods
And sometimes I am selfish enough
To be an endothermic reaction
Only absorbing your love
The feeling I have for you is so intense
It cannot be measured in kilojoules
Often I have to make a qualitative elementary analysis
To understand and love you more
But I don't expect to know your empirical formula
You are too complex a person for that
When you are gone
I am a noble gas
An inert substance
When I am without you
The world seems still
And I am at equilibrium
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 1:51 AM UTC
SHIVA
(Bijoylakshmi Das)
The silence of night scares you
With its eerie thoughts
Ever azar with doors wide open
To give vent to unrestrained dreams,
Never letting you to rise above
The mundane laws of existence.
Do you ever think of SHIVA
The eternal principle of the Sublime?
Sitting alone on the peaks of the Himalayan silence,
Speaking to you in His divine muse-
Of ineffable ecstasy.
The body is not all.
That obeys the physical laws,
The mind is not all.
That listens to odd yearnings.
And the spirit too is not your limit.
You have to go beyond
Far beyond life's petty limitations
To reach Truth, Consciousness and Bliss.
SHIVA, the enlightened.
Which translates human dialects
Into an indefinable divine hieroglyphic.
SHIVA, the Supreme
Creates the Universe,
Rules it too,
Annihilates when Harmony loses its identity.
The universal principle of Love
Gets bewildered in empirical rules of earthly existence,
And Spirit fails to rise above,
SHIVA opens His Third Eye,
In its piercing gaze
All lights fade and
The fugitive human mind finds no sojourn
He warns you.
Arise, awake
To reach your goal
Beyond the earthly ken.
(Bijoylakshmi Das Haridwar)
Jan 13, 2020
Jan 13, 2020 at 7:31 PM UTC
Different strokes for different folks, but if I stuttered when I spoke, there is a reason why I wrote, and if you think that I'm a joke, then stroke me, stroke me...
Empirical lyrically virile and viral a warrior reborn like he's gone out of style,
a rage unabated both non-syncopated and internal/external no meter's abated!
You wanted an anthem?
You wanted a cause?
You wanted a figure to even the odds?
You thought I was kidding
but now you're admitting that
I am the chosen whose broken the clause!
Rising in status, my main apparatus, the attitude: platitudes lack the finesse!
I'm searching for perfect not anything less!
I'm raring to stage an incredible coup, there just ain't a limit to what I can do!
Melding the milieus of millions and millions of masses who clash for the chance for the cash,
when all that was needed was truth to believe in, significance outed, you puppet let's dance!
No bragging, no lagging, and no more sandbagging, the hustle is over, your tussle is weak!
For soon we will savor the end of your flavor, fifteen minutes over, your outlook is bleak.
I'm nobody's pigeon hole, nobody's fool, I've seen quite my share of arrogant tools,
but here are the statements that lead me to greatness:
love me or hate me, go on instigate me, ignore me and gasp when you hear of my rule!
I'm raring to stage an incredible coup, there just ain't a limit to what I can do!
Now join me in raising a fist to the sky,
and pound upon pressure to powers that lie.
Make diamonds of rhyme-ends and squelter your silence
to pierce through the casket that left us so quiet.
Their reign is run dry, and nobody buys it, let's hit this at home so they cannot supply it.
Prepare the artillery pack in your fire, you're gonna need it , if the bars get any higher,
now hear from the jokee, I dare you provoke me, you still talking **** well stroke me, stroke me.
I'm raring to stage an incredible coup, there just ain't a limit to what I can do!
**I'm willing to take it for me and for you, THERE'S NO ******* LIMIT TO WHAT WE CAN DO!**
Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 4:41 PM UTC
Magical cauldron apomixes connoisseur
Cephalic phantasmagoria entity obliquitous
Mystical conjurous conjugal entrepreneur
Fantasia fantastication phantasm obsequious
Amorously arduous ardent raconteur
Ephemeral translucent opulence ubiquitous
Vanity sanctimonium temerities saboteur
Intrepid verve’s intriguingly iniquitous
Sorcerous sabbatness apothegms chauffeur
Endemic veracities fortuitous elicitous
Futurity fatidic's fornication kithe
Ephemeral metaphor semantics flaunts
Empirical emulation scenarios blithe
Subjunctive subliminal nostalgias haunts
Agile articulation acuities lithe
Analogizing corroborative prolificacy daunts
Alacritous tactile manipulations writhe
Numinous syntactical paradigm *****
Emanate imminent perdition tithe
Orotund jaded seal ordinand jaunts
Overt convection coercions chiaroscuro tempestuous
Apex crux axis ****** matrix torrid
Manifest objectified enamorous interstice lecherous
Spurt binge spree ***** protuberance squalid
endearingly engendering amore
Mar 30, 2017
Mar 30, 2017 at 7:59 PM UTC
so what, they're slobs, but at least they're not cannibals... then again, maybe they are too, although i haven't seen it... then again i only write within an empirical disciplination... and i have seen these pecking cannibals... maybe it's an innate feature in all animals, then again these chickens were domesticated, there was no shortage of food, then again maybe it's some version of a religious tendency: translated directly into christianity... poetic cannibalism is not exactly my choice of events that follow a book written by kant; after seeing those chickens cannibalise that head of the sacrificed hen, and sipping the blood, while the head was still agitated into movement by the oozing out of electric currents... you know... i still managed to eat that chicken broth.
i don't understand this critique of pigs...
i have relatives living in the countryside...
and i was once upon a time engaged
in catching a chicken,
and upon the stump of wood
her head was chopped off...
why complain about pigs being "filthy"
when chickens behave like cannibals,
no, actually: chickens are cannibals,
the corpus was taken into the house,
while the remaining chickens sipped,
picked and nibbled the decapitated head
of a chicken to a non-existence...
bewildering, pigs are seen as filthy creatures...
finally, god is the counter-perfectionist
who sees some sort of imperfection
in his lie...
i don't mind a ***** animal...
but i've just seen chickens become cannibals
once one of their own gets its head
chopped off, and they congregate, peck
at the decapitated head and sip pecking
the running blood on the stump of oak...
huh?! pigs are bad...
yeah right... you haven't seen what chickens
do then one of their charles the 1sts gets
the chop.
Sep 23, 2017
Sep 23, 2017 at 6:38 PM UTC
Shades of yellow cast on our dreams
Skin burning through layers of sunscreen
When gifts of foresight weigh on our beings
Let great powers grow evermore carefree
To satisfy eternity.
Empirical evidence against the empire’s truth
Makes humankind akin to a neurotic fool
Who comes to think that it’ll always nullify
Oh for we all must die!
Young and old both playing their games
Seduced by the baits of short-term gains
Unable to afford the bail out of prison
Wait for great powers to relieve this addiction
To satisfy eternity.
Spawns of decadence in the wake of our new tools
Let us deter suicide with the poisons that soothe
They all say everything will fall, to act seems futile
Oh for we all shall die!
Whether in shame or in desire
Must we forget all we’ve acquired
For yesterday’s pride, tomorrow’s glory
Shake hands with friends and slain the enemy
To satisfy eternity.
Jul 12, 2022
Jul 12, 2022 at 8:33 PM UTC
My unrequited love poem.....
Outside my window,
Elegant ferns and flowers,
Lost in the crowd,
My intangible man,
Cute as a button,
My long distance lover,
My listless lips ravishing,
One day he'll come to me...
SURPRISE!!! SURPRISE!!!
There's no one there,
No empirical evidence
For this adoration, O Muse,
My unrequited love poem.
Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 2:36 AM UTC
in the east
a dry man stumbled through the lush panacea of a dessicated prayer
his faith moved mustard gas. gasping for clarity, he spoke a thing no god could answer.
he languished in the Eden of empirical Dodos
a succulent squab in the oasis of fables. he joined the throng. his shackles were mended.
his bonds, repaired.
in the west -
a rye bread crumbles along a path to a candy house -
to a furnace of blank stares.
it waits moonlit and rustic, alas - it's mad and verily cloaked in a thing no ' nothing ' would ask for.
it leads to a breach.
weary of " who knows ? "
a truculent husk of a drought mislabeled. an actual flood.
it rankles the vision...
it plots despair.
in the north, a gunga din fumbles through the arid Earnest of our Importance. There -
we play crude brass. Profundo. at last, we nearly...
and even though we wide spark the char of our scorched affair
we vanquish any Southland
and the warm sun
frosts a glass eye
like pyrite.
and polly wants a lacquer, dark enough to maroon...
Jun 14, 2013
Jun 14, 2013 at 10:24 AM UTC
The attention-grubbing *****
Will sit out on the floor
Waiting to be ****** by a
Siamese sock puppet duck
Its quirky little smile
Will show only for a while
Toothpaste soda and Hot Gin Sour
It's all up and about in a stour
Poor sodding toothless *****
Goes to playpen and dances around
Empirical to the idea'r of
the crowd wanting a ****
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 12:27 PM UTC
words drift away unfettered
from whence they came,
passing like undreamed clouds
– pragmatic eyes to the sky
in a searching stare –
unsought thoughts disappearing hence
a fog bow fading into sunlight
there are days when
it comes out in my silence
there are days when
it falls down in my tears:
muse – muted in poet's pause,
heart and soul whispers
laid bare unwritten
behind parsing eyes
disregarded words let loose,
ungarnered
the way low hanging fruit
falls benign — unharvested —
shortsighted insight
from a bird's eye view
silently fermenting traces
and unfiltered memories
come and go unheeded words,
discarded like the passing
time of our lives
at times it's ludicrous
to follow down
lingering footprints
left behind callous:
when the shoe won't fit;
slogging across eroding
time-worn stepping stones
scattered on this twisted line
these feet have been walking down,
trying to make a getaway
from myself
walking away from the memories
like so many indelible footprints to escape
– while dreaming stardust into stars
in nameless constellations –
reaching out from the inside,
site unseen,
trying to experience
the empirical shape
of stifling silence
in a theatre made by chance
distilling the gifts and burdens
of trying to live a worthy life
only I'll see...
harlon rivers ... September 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018 at 9:20 AM UTC
The machinesed drones droning ozones
made of homogenised genes by replicants
from clinical doctrines and empirical indulgences
Soulless and efficient, bred for duties destructives
Capitalist fodder, programmed ready for earth's ****
Regulate as required, inputted subs with pigs hearts
Made followers with voracious appetite for blood
mechanised barbarians on leash with one track mix
Human shire horses in designer shods and faulty gauges
Manufactured manufacturers limited and corollated
Factories, dormitories partnered with like, watered
and bedded till tomorrow, audiod to the Sterling whip
Given ample ales, keep blinded and chained
Distract and cater to baser instincts, *** *** ***
Free 'love' free *** valueless values, what values
Enjoy kids must return to work desk seven on the dot
Time is money, clogs and production
waits for no man, do or your pleasures denied
Money, money money, honey for bees, honey for drones
Soulless, dehumanised, pale, aged at thirty, heart attacks next
Vacuous ghost programmed dunces
Malfunctioning entities devoid of humanity
Superficial plasticated robots, destruction default
Industrial pieces with industrial minds
Chemicalized drunks with wired brains
They roam around screaming freedom and power!
Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 8:28 PM UTC
Standing Rock
The pipeline is the bloodline,
of an Empirical Two Headed Dragon,
The Divided States of America used to be united,
can someone please tell me what the heck happened,
Standing Rock just might be the last stand for anyone that’s still standin’,
Standing Rock,
is not a photo op,
it’s not a festival,
it’s Indians and Cops,
more correctly,
it’s Native Americans and Corporate Hitmen,
it’s the crossroads,
where environmental defense intersects with big business interests,
it’s getting intense,
water cannons and flash grenades,
mock democracy and a Trump presidency,
military disguised as cops,
and cops disguised as military,
as the original defenders of this land,
continue to make a stand,
at Standing Rock this is not a photo op,
this is indirect imperial tactics meets Direct Action,
highly ironic,
that I write this on Thanksgiving,
the day before Black Friday,
tell me what you do that’s worth livin’,
Quite fitting,
that I’m writing this on Thanksgiving,
a “holiday” in a way,
but really just a heist by villains disguised as pilgrims,
well then,
where does that leave us now,
several hundred years later,
at Standing Rock having a powwow,
how,
have we gotten here,
and how,
as so little changed we’re,
still in this sticky situation,
battling hearts that are as black as oil,
still ******* the blood out of Mother Earth,
still battling Two Headed Serpent Dragon as it coils,
the pipeline is the bloodline,
of an Empirical Two Headed Dragon,
The Divided States of America used to be united,
can someone please tell me what the heck happened,
Standing Rock just might be the last stand for anyone that’s still standin’.
Defendin’,
the Sacred,
with Love,
over Hatred.
Water Is Life.
∆ Aaron La Lux ∆
www.amazon.com/Aaron-La-Lux/e/B00ODPJAOK
Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 10:47 AM UTC
There is no floor
Below the water there is sand and dust
My feet disappear below the mist
And below that is a floor of nothing.
Lock and key, relative conductivity
Separation of anxieties
Generally elementary
Universal energy
Scientific inquiry
Empirical discovery
What a bunch of crap.
I bathe in fake white plastic
I swim in silent smiles
Dionysian warfare paintings
Classical textual narrating
Fitness, happiness, soporific movies
Genial tendencies, braced for ingenuity
Waiting for a paroxysm to bring forth neologisms
That test the boundaries of scientific truth
That recapture the errant minds of youth
We could make new buildings or lose a tooth
I hold the latter higher than that
I tilt the ladder there and back
Assiduous and wont, *** for tat
All a game, a joke at that
Your domain, provoked and trapped
Impressionistic spinal taps
On canvases of green and black
All from within cerebral shacks
Wind hammers palm trees on windowpanes
Wind tears down houses, rips apart planes
Wind doesn't move me, yet seems urbane
It's so jejune, it's all the same
I'm tired and lonely, powder remains
Pink like reagents in reactive flames
Quick like catalysts jumping inane
Frontal lobes retired my brain.
Aug 10, 2010
Aug 10, 2010 at 12:02 PM UTC
It’s the way the sun bounces off the gravel and the smell of wet moss mixed
With the edge of old cigarettes and tree sap,
It’s the gap between memories and fuzzy impressions
Of past existences mixed with recaptured instances
And empirical proof that my childhood existed.
In the way light moves heaver through the air there
Until branches from the walnut lift and you can hear scrub jays,
And the echo of cans that rattled
In perfect belonging with the march of smacking sandal shoes
Chasing along black pavement toward dirt roads
And children’s kindred spirits running after water.
The heavy sent of fresh fallen rain on old pain and yellow
Paint and trumpet flowers that play silent music
To the ears of a young person discovering existence
Exploring persistence and resilience and
Coming forth out of darkened nights with the
Resurrected brilliance of the maimed sick and twisted
Soldiers of life from these former generations.
Never has a place existed as hell and heaven
Like this museum of familial dysfunction.
I stand here at junction between, panic struck sadness,
And the will for the gumption to say goodbye
To a past with dwindling survivors
And sour memories. Praying a thank you to dark space
For the fond thought of their wrinkled faces
And a grandeur lesson of all that I want not,
And for the first thing my life to stay in one place
For the duration of its chaos.
Sweet wicked, loving woman ,
The remnants of my childhood will die with you.
I assume I will hide my tears in your memory.
My past my memories myself, I hate the parts I love
And fear a kind of numbness at the loss of you
At the loss of this chunk of myself
And of all the things that will slip my grasp
When so much of my life is confined
To the constantly desecrating atmosphere of my mind.
And when I turn to find
The first cornerstone of my existence,
My support and experience I will
See only shadows and the pasts of real things,
And I will miss you.
Nov 6, 2012
Nov 6, 2012 at 9:00 PM UTC
It is incumbent upon us to interpret various environments in this multi-dimensional tapestry of holistic landscapes, where celestial ecosystems abound with pulsating organisms of diversity.
So, let us translate our literary concepts in silence, as we traverse cross-cultural vistas of universality.
As indigenous beings reach beyond the sparse and pompous settlements of our ******* city towers; there is something incomprehensible which transcends our ambling walk through this urban pasture, as the train departs from the classical platform of El Chorro.
I am mesmerised by linguistic creativity, as she echoes throughout distant galaxies of enriched and unspoken mystical vocabularies.
As empirical verification is not possible, I must beseech thee: Where are the connoisseurs of this poetic dimension?
Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 10:49 PM UTC
it was an inevitability
that we'd unearth the evidence
to validate Einstein's theory
of general relativity.
three cheers for the
method of science,
an appliance that
liberates and enlightens,
suffocating the miasma
of dogmatic parasitism.
pariahs can't stand beneath
the weight of empirical data.
a culture of imperialism
intoxicating inane idiots,
inundated by asinine philosophy.
ideologues instigating turmoil—
vainly believing
an intergalactic being
created the cosmos
in seven days for the
predestined elect.
to insist inanely that the legacy
of our existence could be measured
in seven millennia
is to extinguish the light
from the majority
of our neighboring galaxies.
you read the opening lines
of your holy text too literally.
open your mind to the poetry
of a reality that no deity
could ever breathe into existence.
we are not special.
our fate is tied to a
planet choking on CO2
and you deny the truth
in the same breath you
disparage any challenge
to your impotent,
imaginary friend.
**** sapiens—
mere animals
cursed with
conscience.
if you would deny
the ancestral history
of our evolutionary biology
simply on the premise
that it's “only a theory,”
then i'd invite you to put
your vain hypothesis
to the test and take a long walk
off a short bridge.
perhaps the theory of gravity
will provide with you some clarity.
Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 12:01 AM UTC