"rationalism" poems
there is a darkness
that the silver song
of soft illusion lights
in symbolic equivalents
of images real
it is a light
brutally interrogative
magnifying with dazzling rays
the breakage
at the jagged edges of the world
and lays hostage to impersonation
that resembles fragments
of smashed oval shaped mirrors
reflecting pieces of broken
brown terracotta soldiers
and causes the eyes to hurt
with a watched inner holocaust
of disturbing coloured detonations,
implosively autonomous
given to a deceived departure
a departure from reality
given by the advocacy
of ideological rationalism
that sees three kings
with blood on their crowns
in amplified convulsions
call mustre for
disturbance, disorder, destruction
and death
as blood stains the Balkan streets
and all emotional impulse
is volatilized
and a sinister, stuporous, stagnancy
stalks the land
where sustaining minds
are subject to a brutal insensitivity
that dazzles on the edge of a spiral vertigo
it is a light
brutally interrogative
magnifying with dazzling rays
a vocabulary of incoherence
like the rancid stains of *****
that inhabit the jagged edges of the world
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 1:25 PM UTC
Oblivious is the man who claims decorum of extrapolated omnipotence.
The man who has ossified rationalism into an inexplorable ruse.
An attempt to transmogrify inchoate minds, characteristic of apparitions.
Providing illusion as the answer to an obsequious concrescence of naive followers.
Oblivious are the men who follow this decorum.
Their leader keens to their needs.
Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 1:09 PM UTC
AOK: Mathematics
By Rohan Baishya
Now listen up y'all imma give y'all a lecture
About how my intuition led to some dope conjectures.
But to verify these knowledge claims I'll need a proof,
No need to worry though, my logic's up through the roof.
I'll steal yo girl with my geometric paradigms.
Not to mention my bank balance is on a sharp incline.
Imma use derivatives to find the slope of that *****
Euclid used geometry, what a big loony.
Now Pythagoras used deduction to find the sides of triangles,
Now I can use induction to find the curves of this fine-angle.
So listen up homie, you're a bore with your empiricism;
I can explain everything with this dank rationalism.
Now math ain't 'bout using memory to cram some equations,
It's all about getting that intense sensation
of using reason to season your supported argument
but sometimes to calculate my Lambo's rent.
But now imma be busy with my new calculator via Fed-ex
So listen up girls, no *** until I solve for x
In conclusion, math is the secret to success
If you believe in the numbers you'll be relieving your stress.
Word
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 12:27 PM UTC
Break away from the chains of rationalism,
Follow your heart or die mortal man.
Keep going, pressing ever forward,
Calamity lasts but one moment unless in peril.
Pressure is nothing compared to your wants.
Fancy the girl, go after your wants not her needs.
Love all that is good for you.
Hate all that is bad for you.
Carpe Diem!
Carpe Ador.
Treat yourself for you only live but a day.
Hold yourself back for no one but you, yourself.
Spend your life in heated arguments, heated passion, and heated rage.
Enjoy the love-life of the ***** and vile
For you only should marry once, and are never tied down.
Speak your thoughts as profane and as loud.
Rock the mild, ignore the wise,
victory in love is care for only thyself.
Love is a lie and mortal.
Love is nothing but ecstasy.
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 10:44 AM UTC
Orphan roots are banished into Bermudan-like triangular realms of presumed stability off the coast of Neptune,
Whilst abandonment firmly establishes her ancient dendrology.
Are your connections deeply entwined in the postmodern era of presumed certainty and deluded rationalism?
The method of self-transfiguration is evidenced on the mountain-tops of vanity, where the purging of the soul with self-flagellations is an archaic and scornful memory to those who claim to be enlightened.
How rooted are your roots? Does your reason stand trial in the docks of uncertainty?
The autumn leaves are changing color, and the birth of death reveals a beauty which, when embraced, flutters her powerful wings in the dawn of a frosty voyage.
I believe in ripples of probability.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 4:11 PM UTC
We have dignity, right?
Since the 1600's we've thought with minds of reason
Anselm of Canterbury created pragmatism
Out of the most sacred and holy of things
And since then our rationalism has worn suits.
War is for the common, the petty.
Let the east quarters bury themselves in poverty
Leave them to their primitive ways
I want my son's to return
They'll be studying the Romantics in the Fall
We have no need for war
I want my daughters to come back to their homes
Instead of manufacturing arms to fight
These unreasonable beasts
We have no need for war.
Let the Calvary of America flex its powered machines
We are civilized.
Poster Childs for the post modern
With the intention to overtake
Our own philospohy, that indicates-
(with the raise of a brow, a tip of the head)
That -
We have no need for war.
Dec 11, 2012
Dec 11, 2012 at 4:19 PM UTC
Killed, have you, thousands of innocents
Truly, are you Satan's agents
Destroying an entire nation
In the name of counter-terrorism
Completely abandoning rationalism
And carrying out mass slaughter, with chilling precision
You call yourself a democracy
Yet, you show absolutely no mercy
Even when it cometh to children
Your humanity is absolutely barren
When we call you out
"Anti-Semitic", do you brand us, without a second thought
Jesus tells us to love even our enemies
However, your sheer hatred never does cease
You pretend to be the victim
However, filled to the brim
Is your cup of everlasting greed
As you continue to occupy land after land
And never allow the world to take a stand
Even as there are millions to feed
While the genocide reaches a fever pitch
Because, always functions, does your killing machine, without a hitch
You are so evil
That you **** and ****
Without giving a dime about incurring the wrath of God
Over goodness, do you run roughshod
You think you own Palestine
However, enough have we seen
And enough have we had
The world is mad
Soon, will you pay the price
For your insatiable avarice
Your days are numbered
Soon, will the tide be turned
You may continue your state terrorism
Which you call "counter-terrorism"
However, it is only a matter of time
Before there is divine retribution
For the numerous crimes of your so-called democratic nation
Viva Palestina!!
Amen!! Hallelujah!!
Dec 26, 2023
Dec 26, 2023 at 11:17 AM UTC
i'm not writing, more or less simply knitting, a jumper -
which is more than just a mere poem.
the comfort allowance, listening to delta goodrem
and i love pop,
more than a rugby
player aged ~20,
mind you,
sometimes labouring over one
selfie with 20 Chinese to match
makes you feel oh so good -
it took those 20 Chinese
the same effort - pretty white girl
and blonde syndrome,
eastern Europe gets a sniff
and simply says: well, that' **** isn't it?
the days that came with
the motto: we need astronauts more than
tourists...
days like these i rather take selfies
of the sleeper than write something...
and i do...
i fiddle on the roof
and cartoon the rest...
because that matters.
pristine Australian and the gimmicks
worthy of South Korean singalongs....
next in line
***** duped Jews...
whenever the gentleman
lost hist top-hat and the confectioner glyph typo -
me and an audience?
as in a day job?
i don't mind...
d'ah la la la...
and the piano....
these days are rare....
having enough words
in-tune with all others...
of such days
i say: sometimes a picture revitalises the lost words....
and when encouraged
a slip-up of beckoning...
readied for an avalanche -
to make writing into
knitting a jumper or a scarf...
equivalent...
in a society that deems Japanese culture
inquiries
as the righteous standards
to avoid the jobs of nursing and dentistry -
well...
we're in sure need of robotics
to ease off stress that our societies have
themselves halving demand...
sure, she's still there,
crazy naked and starving a kaleidoscope hope
of reminiscence
concerning a fear of spiders:
that do not weave webbing...
the size of your palm...
those ones, scary...
that context of x,
between agoraphobia minor
(in an urban setting)
and agoraphobia major
in an countryside setting -
phobia: or the intricate fear
when an antidote is due because of too much rationalism -
agoraphobia minor:
fear of being in an open space with too many people...
agoraphobia major:
fear of being in an open space
anticipating a congregation that never comes...
i'm enthralled by these compounds:
kindred of: lithium salts - or other compounds.
sometimes just a day with a selfie...
or a poem like this: an exercise in utilising language
to no grand scheme of making a profit:
rather an indentation, and nothing more.
Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 8:55 PM UTC
Show me the forbidden petals of your dark side, where enlightenment pulsates with her superior intellectual reliance upon rationalism.
What are the parameters of absolutism and relativism in this age, where I have discoursed with austere figures of the debased brotherhood?
Can you wrap your fingers around the girth of societal modernity, and stroke the length of paradoxical sophistication where philosophical death displays her unfathomable depths?
I have found resolution to this mathematical perplexity amidst our blatantly secret desert storm, where the cosmological clock ceases to denote her tick beyond the circumference of our interior sociology.
Looking back to the future – what do you think of your first love?
As we gather in the sacred circle around ancient and dreamy wishes, the spectres of dark forests are worthy of homage on this calendar season of historical significance.
Limp, is the phallus of political rectitude.
There is something beautifully menacing about the sound of bass drums, especially whenever there is a cultural context.
Do you know why? Because, they are connected to the melody and harmony, where the fullness of ontology is climactic in its lofty debasement.
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 1:56 AM UTC
Vision is an inexplicable experience, where perception blends with distant intellect and galactic rationalism.
As we sit together and lay aside our preconceptions, we both know that it will melt in the fifth year.
As we engage in this beautiful marathon and paste ontology across wasteful walls of graffiti, can we now please die?
Oh ancient soul, I am intrigued by your mysterious aura, as your flickering flame has made contact with my ectoplasmic and innermost hatred.
Nationalism is not yet lost, and everything is said to be well.
It is said to be our mistake for not yet having the realisation.
We can only prevent decay for a limited period of time.
It’s just like an inadequate reprimand, don’t you think?
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 11:28 PM UTC
Children standing in midair,
a person somehow wrong,
orders a bag of a cooked subconscious.
Shakes it gently,
unaware of the destruction wrought by rationalism.
A dog reading a book demands doctrinal allegiance.
A writer identifying the wrongs dies in a hypnotic trans-like state...
- Samar Charulingah Godfrey
Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 2:18 PM UTC
Provocation is irksome to the humble soul who is incited to cross those conventional norms with ferocious and lustful pursuits.
As we summon the ancient souls of the abyss through questionable mediums, I am truly disappointed by the lack of authenticity.
My roots are important to me.
Therefore, let us move beyond this childish and cryptic crossroad where curses are said to have been released before the sight of those who presume to have been summoned.
The experience of deviance will never be divorced from a state of dissociation, where sincere possession withstands the empty assertions of rationalism and intellectualism.
The scientific futility of violence is an enigma.
Although the ritualistic consumption of various ****** fluids is a characteristic of ceremonial magic, I am unaware of that black light which flickers her forbidden permissions within the deepest recesses of my damp and historical ontology.
My dawn of golden equations is sympathetic to the threefold chiming of the bells.
Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 11:20 PM UTC
the inertia of animation of Narcissus...
the water that becomes ice
of a fixation...
in visage...
if only Narcissus found
himself...
fixating on his shadow...
then again...
whatever Jung proposed,
in schematic,
and without mythological
imagery...
to propose a counter...
has been lost
to the vague attempts of
countering mythology with
mystification of the shadow...
borrowing from Kant...
a shadow is something deemed
cold...
i say... a shadow is something
deemed animate...
Narcissus fell in love with
an inanimate reflection of himself...
and this is why Jung
failed to explain the shadow...
in that...
his explanation does little
justice to mythology...
and serves nothing more than
mysticism...
how can mythology not be treated
seriously...
when the current contest
of lived to recorded time
is exponentially comical...
myth is time with the logic
of said myth, being kept as...
what coincides with
whatever happens
now to happen later,
having borrowed from
what happened in the past,
a past, that... mediates the impeccable
intricacy of scientific prodding...
to disavow a humanism of
the, "grand explanatory project"...
as if... that will not be countered
by an irrational tomorrow...
to the rationalism of...
oh... say... 3 billions year, give or take.
the shadow is too mystical in
Jungian terms...
my explanation of the shadow is...
counter to Narcissus...
the demigod who...
looking at his shadow...
made a more subliminal
fascination...
the mere form,
and how thought somehow
contradicted consciousness (dasein)...
Jung took the mystical,
archetypical route...
i took the mythological,
archaic route;
i guess we both returned to the same
conclusion...
only that...
there wouldn't be a Narcissus
without a lake,
since there would be no Narcissistic
observation on either sea
or river...
but i sure as hell can cast
a shadow onto the sea,
as i can, onto a river.
Nov 9, 2018
Nov 9, 2018 at 9:42 PM UTC
Mirror Mirror on the wall… Can you tell me who I am at all?
The biggest question we ask ourselves is “who am I?”
But no one knows the answer.
You may think you know who you are,
But is it the inner
Or outer you that you know?
Our outer self is what we portray to the world,
Our inner self is something no one knows about -
Sometimes not even ourselves
Mirror Mirror on the wall… Can people look inside and gaze into my soul?
Our soul is a representation of who we are.
Some are as vibrant as glistening stars.
They’re young,
Still blooming
And living up a storm
Others are as black as a raven’s back.
They look ecstatic,
They have life in their grasp.
But on the inside they shriek for help,
Plead for someone to see and let them out,
They ache for understanding.
Most people deem themselves a star,
But deep down they have their doubts.
They’re entangled between what they want
And what they feel.
Mirror Mirror on the wall… Is this real? Or have I been dreaming all along?
This is what most dreamers ask.
They’re caught between reality
And make believe.
They’re typically blind to what’s in front of them.
They could have a partner, who treats them astonishingly,
But they’ll have an image of how this person should look and act.
They’re oblivious to what they already have.
Mirror Mirror on the wall… Is this who I’ve grown up to become?
Many people think that once they’ve matured
There’s no way of changing.
But it’s your will power
And strength
That makes change in your life.
If you crave change
Then go out and make it happen -
Don't wait for someone else.
You are obligated to make change in your life.
You have the key to your own happiness.
If you truly believe in change
Then what’s preventing you from it?
Mirror Mirror on the wall… Can you tell me who I am at all?
I am me.
I am the author of my life
And happiness.
I am 5”3.
I have long brown hair
And blue eyes.
I portray to the world that I’m young and courageous;
That I can dominate whatever life throws at me.
But deep down I’m small,
Delicate.
I still need my mom around to hold me.
There are 2 of me:
The outer me is easy to distinguish, Yet the inner me is much more complex.
Many don't know the full inner me -
Including myself.
The inner me has entangled itself in the web of fairytale.
It clashes between fantasy and rationalism.
It has a need to be cherished, but not abandoned;
To appreciate, but not suffer.
Part of me is fascinated by my complexity
But the other wishes it would stop.
To those who wish to know the inner me,
I am a labyrinth
With everlasting dead ends.
But that's what makes me
Me.
All are welcome to join the journey into my labyrinth mind.
Let's solve this puzzle together.
This journey won't be easy,
But nothing ever is
I know my cloudy soul won't rest
Until my journey ends.
Mirror mirror on the wall… I am one of countless others with an unsolved soul.
This is who I am.
Dec 31, 2016
Dec 31, 2016 at 2:48 AM UTC
Oh, I'm looking for light,
In this godless night,
I'm losing my spark,
And the apathy feels great.
With each uneven beat of my heart,
I close my eyes, and its not nearly as dark...
As the life we surround ourselves with,
Afraid of death and the afterlife.
It is called crazy, crazy, to wish it was over.
They call it depression and submission.
I call it rationalism!
What does this world have to offer you?
You take of it what you will,
But to me it lends only bills!
And not of the meaningless thing we call money,
No ******* up currency, no trust we bind ourselves by.
Nay the cruelty of a loveless life, of emotions drained,
Hopes dashed, family cruelly washed down winter's basin.
What do we look forward to in life?
Oh, I wonder, and wander. I am lost.
But to me I am found. I know who I am.
I am the darkness, at 2 am which causes me to write.
I am the boogeyman, the hidden fright.
The fear which holds you from kissing her,
The quiver you try to hide under, your receding grin,
I am the line by which darkness exudes,
I am evil and the joy infused,
I am the happiness of void, the contentness of lust.
I am the sin and the sinner, the judge and the judged.
And I am without care or worry. I am only waiting to be taken.
Oh. Oh indeed.
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 5:16 AM UTC
If we as human beings are meant to bring reason
Bring water out of stone
Create fame from fortune
Then, what comes next
Probably, the study of relevant subjects
That entice us, but, what do we crave
Many of us wonder, if we want a happy ending
Honestly, we want to have an ending
The story should end, even if it not be remembered
In that sense, we are truly capable of reasoning
As reasoning requires to reject the praise and goodwill of others
For a purposeful end
If we shall truly reason, we cannot let our beliefs sway
Let alone be moved by the storm of emotion or doubt
If our mind is a sail boat, let it find it's way
On a vast ocean of rationalism
However, we will always question our own self
Seldom, trusting the route
If trusting the wind
Is faith
Reason is having trust
In your sails, as the wind may come to a calm halt someday
That is God's will, perhaps.
Jul 4, 2020
Jul 4, 2020 at 2:15 PM UTC
High on intellect
Near to spirit of wisdom
And
Far away from the rationalism
Of the materialistic world
I swear
If you do visit someday
You can find me there.-22.04.2015
Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 11:42 AM UTC
Man is an exploited animal,
The only species which exploit/cheat/kill the same species.
I always wondered why so much confusion in our
present world compared to 60 yrs before.
The truth is world has developed in fast phase for the past 40 yrs.
Those items considered luxury has become necessity.
The credit tools like credit cards/personal/home loans are
teaser to our life. The govt. knows very well these are traps
for the common man to exploit his entire earning,
every borrower are paying enormous amount of interest
on present tool of Credit. But,
still license are given to corporate to exploit in terms of
fast foods/ credit institutions/industries which detrimental
to our country.
The concept of prison were introduced to move
dangerous people in order to safe guard common citizen.
Now, the law of verdict can be easily postponed/delayed.
So, instead we are forced to live in a gated community
like a prisoner.
And, we are only united in the words like
Economy/States/ Consumer but down here we all are
living like an individual, losing rationalism slowly and
unknowingly falling into the style of indifference.
We are no more we are, we are driven by
markets/ads/newspaper/media. they control every aspect
of our life. We lost the tradition of living by
moving to freedom for everything.
The country which practice freedom for everything
are facing lot of atrocities- Anyone can go out,
shoot any one. Unethical business style - using chemical
to induce food taste, Wars - to loot other
nation natural resources & foreign currencies,
The simple answer is understanding the
present form of freedom and creating little
awareness about our expenditures,
will help us to live happily.......
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 12:02 AM UTC
Formal education,
requires a fence
With borders to confine,
and logic intense
Three letters that matter,
the I, S, and M
Each school suffixed over,
its member’s defend
Realism, Rationalism,
Idealism all…
Each name its own failing,
as verity calls
True thought has no class
or Academie named
It stands on its own,
the truth its sole claim
With knowledge in conflict,
the days turn to night
Academia’s lantern
—burned out in the fight
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
Apr 24, 2019
Apr 24, 2019 at 10:38 PM UTC
With the few words left within me there is something I fear I must write. Beauty is everything, art is justified. It was a hard battle, but art has won. Dionysus takes the cup: Apollo, in a blaze of wonder and irony, has fallen, for this space is for dreamers, not for rationalists. Reason shall come shortly, but soon there will be no need for reason, I can assure you. First I must scorn in the face of every critic, whose airy words tried to stamp the artifice down the whimpering and broken throat of the victor, which is the artist; I must point and laugh at the woman that shrivels at the sight of moral beauty, and the man that seeks entertainment, rather than enlightenment, for you are all fools and cuckolds to your well-loved rationalism.
AND THUS WAS HIS REASONING
Beauty and truth both lay dormant in every soul that has walked the Earth. Every aesthetic piece gives breath to its own truth. Truth, because it is admired, admired, because it is truth. Expression, the holiest form of satisfaction, is then simply the application of the beautiful thing, which is art. In this realm nothing is proven, but everything is felt. This is art. This is truth. This is beauty. This is rebellion. This is nothing. This is everything. This is art.
Jul 21, 2017
Jul 21, 2017 at 4:37 PM UTC
The obsession of power
A deliberate enforcement
Preaching rationalism to humanity
Resulting to terrible disappointment
Hiding under are the intentions
Covered in the name of religion
A partial execution
Blinding the disciples to purposeful confusion
An evil in the name god
A betrayal in the name of trust
Shaking the beliefs of mankind
Devastating the places of holy shrine
Killing innocent lives
Attacking from behind
Claim themselves to be warriors
Are nothing but disgraceful cowards
Endless human slaughter
A new dimension to cruelty
Formation of mass destruction
Is your definition of victory
With all this misery
An achievement you feel
It won’t be the same again
As the saints are out to ****
Defying your motives once again
To touch these grounds
No force field to break
Just a bullet in your head and you are down
This time we unite
The roles change
And therapy continues
carrying out this outraging revenge
Animosity of fate
As this time you witness
The suffering and all this pain
Its our turn now, you will repent
Jun 28, 2019
Jun 28, 2019 at 5:07 AM UTC