Let us deconstruct all things
In this Postmodernist day.
All our elusions must fall
Away
And everything be analysed
Until our eyes
Can no longer see
Beyond this reductionist
Ideology
Let us deconstruct all things
In this Postmodernist day.
All our elusions must fall
Away
And everything be analysed
Until our eyes
Can no longer see
Beyond this reductionist
Ideology
¬
These flowers
Are fading now.
This vase
Which stands so stable
On this wooden table
May not break
In my lifetime.
But hours pass.
Glass breaks
And this rhyme
Composed as I sit
At this wooden table
As the clock ticks
May remain
When all I see
Is gone from me.
But this grain
Of truth
Will stay
When my mind
Can no longer play
With time.
The scent of new-mown grass
Catches me as I pass
By graves in spring.
I take delight
In this brief light
As birds sing
Over tombs and grass
A philosophical young lady named Holly
Owns an old and interesting folly.
I’ve talked of philosophy
With pretty Miss Lee –
But now lets discuss Holly’s folly …
The weather grows colder
And I older.
The clock ticks on.
Each second gone
Forever lost to me.
I sit alone.
Mere flesh and bone.
Is there a possibility of immortality?
That may be.
But for now the clock mocks
All my philosophy.
I wonder, could ther
Walking through the summer rain
I think of you with your philosopher’s brain.
Our conversation is always respectable
And almost always focuses on the purely intellectual.
Often I wish I could see
Behind your philosophy
And into your heart.
My poetry is part of me.
But my art
And all your philosophy
Are only part
Of you and me.
Is there more for me to see
Beyond your intellectuality?
Will I ever find the woman behind
Your clever chat
Of this and that?
Conversation runs dry
And I wonder why
I over intellectualise your opaque eyes
And what lies behind …
When I met a pretty Utilitarian last night
Who told me her name was Miss White,
We discussed pleasure and pain.
Then we did that again.
As reading Bentham filled us both with delight!
When a young lady that I once kissed
Said, “tell me, are you a moral relativist?”,
I said, “darling Lou,
Would that bother you?”,
She said, “I liked it when we kissed …!”
She about to go to university
To read philosophy.
I mention that I read Plato
Long, long ago.
I wonder, can she possibly know
That old Plato
Has no hold on my mind …
When I met a philosopher of this nation
Who said, “we’re all living in a simulation”.
I gave him a big kick
And whacked him with a stick,
Which was fine as we’re in a simulation!