We Are, We Were
The universe recognizing itself
The story we tell ourselves
The morality of Newton's Third Law
The reflection of attraction
The identities of Heraclitus' river
The sobriety of necessary solitude
The panic of their indifference
The sweet speak of song
The light dance of death
The first twelve tablets
The last question Isaac asked
The mean time of our goals
The goal line of our means
Think Tragedy, Feel Comedy
This world is a comedy to those that think, a tragedy to those that feel.- Horace Walpole
Estrogan are you forsaken?
The idle mind waits for you.
On a stone in rags he hollowed
felt feudal love for poor Apollo,
his chariot of coin in question
One willow under our telling sky.
Not mint of metal or ones or zeros
Coin is trust in power in heroes.
What happened to man and his divine?
Spheres of fire and the fabric of time.
Estrogan, your idle mind waits.
The knowledge of man, locution fate.
Are we equal yet?
All that exists is One. People only call this One by different names.– Leo Tolstoy, A Letter to a Hindu
Lines of money of color naught
Structures of historic power lines sought
Life lines ending he sees a light
waves of black and quarks of white
Otis outside his lonely spectrum
Beating eighths on a truthful drum
Beating true because none share their start
in opportunity or love's humility
in dangerous lands or losing hands
So, as you push your brother down
As you trip over each hurdle and frown
Calling your dictator to change his plan
Remember Spinoza sang Deus sive Natura
Accepting death is the only freedom
And death is what makes us equal
Suffer a life? You'd rather together
What do you see in your child's eye?
And without unity what can we find?
No more water the fire next time
Eating away what makes man kind