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Complacent Philosophy (Spinoza)

How many times have my bare feet    
Crossed softness in the green earth underneath,    
How many times have I noticed the wind,    
Fleeting the trace of a willow tree.    
   
The odd things about arguments are,    
They are complacent beyond any strength.    
There’s no one that talks of answers,    
Only the opinions of the Medlar tree.    
   
Seeking acceptance from a cup of coffee;    
Discomplacency of an antagonizing charm.    
If there is a substance of mind and emotion,    
What is the substance to keep?    
   
I cannot think of the name of today    
No more than I can understand the need.    
But the argument seems to show that it must cause itself to exist,    
It must necessitate its own reality - its own creed.
Written by Pishashee
Published | Edited 3rd Jan 2014
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