TheEarthIsRound
06-27-2010, 07:33 PM
This is a scientific poem:
This is the poem which
Is Created by Freud’s paradigm.
This is when Veritas
Progresses, from open theory
(well not exactly, due
To religion and other trivial things)
To a closed, confined,
Hypothesis and proof
Paradigm.
Analysis analysis and analysis--
But I long and embark Paradise.
This is a stubborn poem:
I am writing this poem
Because certain cells in
My brain function
That which creates
Emotion
That which is created
by the Theory,
The Theory,
Of atoms.
What do I see and
What do you see?
Someday we will be
Robots.
Someday when I look
Out the window
I will not see blue sky
I will not breathe clean
Air,
But I will see the composition of
Ocean
Composition of Air,
That, in its own sense,
Cannot be broken down
Into a definite quantity.
So why am I here,
Touching the ground
Of Mathematics?
Why am I here, explaining
Just the things that
JUST happen?
I’m not making sense
Here, making a valid
Argument to which
We call objective science.
To which science that the
Operators are us.
That the conclusions are from
Us.
It’s all Garbage.
But there is still time
There is always time.
To let the Garbage
Discern us the reaches of sight
And thought that
Penetrate far, far
Beyond our wet cells.
I want to breathe,
Just breathe a little bit.
I want to drink water
As water,
not as the conception of it.
Air as air,
not as the conception of it.
Life as life.
Not the conception of it.
I want to get rid of the paradigms.
I want to go to Paradise.
This is the poem which
Is Created by Freud’s paradigm.
This is when Veritas
Progresses, from open theory
(well not exactly, due
To religion and other trivial things)
To a closed, confined,
Hypothesis and proof
Paradigm.
Analysis analysis and analysis--
But I long and embark Paradise.
This is a stubborn poem:
I am writing this poem
Because certain cells in
My brain function
That which creates
Emotion
That which is created
by the Theory,
The Theory,
Of atoms.
What do I see and
What do you see?
Someday we will be
Robots.
Someday when I look
Out the window
I will not see blue sky
I will not breathe clean
Air,
But I will see the composition of
Ocean
Composition of Air,
That, in its own sense,
Cannot be broken down
Into a definite quantity.
So why am I here,
Touching the ground
Of Mathematics?
Why am I here, explaining
Just the things that
JUST happen?
I’m not making sense
Here, making a valid
Argument to which
We call objective science.
To which science that the
Operators are us.
That the conclusions are from
Us.
It’s all Garbage.
But there is still time
There is always time.
To let the Garbage
Discern us the reaches of sight
And thought that
Penetrate far, far
Beyond our wet cells.
I want to breathe,
Just breathe a little bit.
I want to drink water
As water,
not as the conception of it.
Air as air,
not as the conception of it.
Life as life.
Not the conception of it.
I want to get rid of the paradigms.
I want to go to Paradise.