deepundergroundpoetry.com
I think, therefore I am
I think, therefore I am
Or does reality truly exist?
encompassing far more than the mushy pink organ in our skulls?
Patterns shapes and numerical values,
Each orchestrated in flawless equilibrium
The handiwork of the unseen?
Or the fortuitous aftermath of a leaking paint bucket?
Perhaps the amorphous visage of Christ on a piece of Toast?
A reality constructed from objective data
Or an omnipotent hairy man who lazes about on a cloudy throne
A computer simulation?
Or do we live in nothingness.
Raw, unblinking, unsympathetic.
Nihility may be the answer we seek
Since the dawn of civilization we have longed for one
Something simple
Something pure
But the answer lays bare before us
secreted in the cracks and alleyways of our synapses
The creeping hollowness that perturbs the corners of our mind.
To accept nihility, is to accept defeat.
We are fragile creatures
vulnerable to the contentious factions of our species
Reality is a void, an empty gas tank
We pray and scavenge for fuel.
Not because it provides a broader understanding of the universe
But as a matter of survival
Worshiping deities, ambitions, dreams, aspirations,
kings, presidents, and dictators.
We plant our flags into the grime
cementing our tentative identities in the rocky turf of the void
Some are stitched in white and beige, sometimes muddled gradients of scarlet.
Others are adorned with gaudy unicorns and dolphins.
Another nation, another soul
Geography lies.
Not about the continents
nor earth's shape
or the valley or the rivers and the oceans
Or many many other facts
Geography lies about one thing
Just one thing, a single glaring mistake
Our blue planet contains more than 195 countries.
not just a few more
billions more
7.6 billion
7.6 billion nations
Rising and falling each day
Just as the empires of old once did.
Some gripping longer than most onto life.
Some achieving greatness along their path
And others...
are heaping mounds of desecrated ash and brittle bone
conquered wretches writhing in the mud and soil
Screeching for a savior who will never display his visage.
Our world orbits a small star
We're third in line
We understand molecules, relativity, gravity, blackholes
Science is comfort, stability and reliability
a sturdy pillar in the typhoon of ignorance
We shall grip fearlessly onto it's modest dimensions
Or risk the desolation of our own sanity.
Craft our myths our legends and our superheroes.
And appease the sadistic expanse of the void
Watching as it devours our lies
Another day staving off the malicious tendrils of the void
But how long can humanity hold out?
How long can we maintain our lies, our meaning, our self reflection?
How much longer will we keep telling ourselves...
I think, therefore I am.
Or does reality truly exist?
encompassing far more than the mushy pink organ in our skulls?
Patterns shapes and numerical values,
Each orchestrated in flawless equilibrium
The handiwork of the unseen?
Or the fortuitous aftermath of a leaking paint bucket?
Perhaps the amorphous visage of Christ on a piece of Toast?
A reality constructed from objective data
Or an omnipotent hairy man who lazes about on a cloudy throne
A computer simulation?
Or do we live in nothingness.
Raw, unblinking, unsympathetic.
Nihility may be the answer we seek
Since the dawn of civilization we have longed for one
Something simple
Something pure
But the answer lays bare before us
secreted in the cracks and alleyways of our synapses
The creeping hollowness that perturbs the corners of our mind.
To accept nihility, is to accept defeat.
We are fragile creatures
vulnerable to the contentious factions of our species
Reality is a void, an empty gas tank
We pray and scavenge for fuel.
Not because it provides a broader understanding of the universe
But as a matter of survival
Worshiping deities, ambitions, dreams, aspirations,
kings, presidents, and dictators.
We plant our flags into the grime
cementing our tentative identities in the rocky turf of the void
Some are stitched in white and beige, sometimes muddled gradients of scarlet.
Others are adorned with gaudy unicorns and dolphins.
Another nation, another soul
Geography lies.
Not about the continents
nor earth's shape
or the valley or the rivers and the oceans
Or many many other facts
Geography lies about one thing
Just one thing, a single glaring mistake
Our blue planet contains more than 195 countries.
not just a few more
billions more
7.6 billion
7.6 billion nations
Rising and falling each day
Just as the empires of old once did.
Some gripping longer than most onto life.
Some achieving greatness along their path
And others...
are heaping mounds of desecrated ash and brittle bone
conquered wretches writhing in the mud and soil
Screeching for a savior who will never display his visage.
Our world orbits a small star
We're third in line
We understand molecules, relativity, gravity, blackholes
Science is comfort, stability and reliability
a sturdy pillar in the typhoon of ignorance
We shall grip fearlessly onto it's modest dimensions
Or risk the desolation of our own sanity.
Craft our myths our legends and our superheroes.
And appease the sadistic expanse of the void
Watching as it devours our lies
Another day staving off the malicious tendrils of the void
But how long can humanity hold out?
How long can we maintain our lies, our meaning, our self reflection?
How much longer will we keep telling ourselves...
I think, therefore I am.
Published 18th Jun 2018
Author's Note
Wanted to write a poem that borders more on the philosophical. Even since I was super young I'd often make conjectures about the validity of reality. I didn't know it at the time because... I was about 7 but it's had lasting effects.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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The author encourages honest critique.
18th Jun 2018 8:42pm
Hello Ryan
You know, it's been years since I found a writer who brings new angles to poetry. But you seem to do it with each write you put on the page. I love you man. You have a huge fan.
In terms of constructive information on this poem...
Your content is intensely interesting and well hell you must hace worked your but off on it. But you also write long poems. Now see, the problem is it's easy to loose a reader halfway in long pieces. It's easier to loose em them in lots of information and content.
My first suggestion would be one of two things, either
A) shorten the writes and post a series of three pieces.
Or...
B) concentrate one item in your content and build your poem around it.
I have to admit... You floor with these writes everytime and I honestly think you have a fresh magnificence in your writing, many wouldn't even understand. That is also why I recomend shortening the pieces up. Who knows you may be educating people at the same time.
Write on dear poet.
Blue Skies at you
Al
=)
You know, it's been years since I found a writer who brings new angles to poetry. But you seem to do it with each write you put on the page. I love you man. You have a huge fan.
In terms of constructive information on this poem...
Your content is intensely interesting and well hell you must hace worked your but off on it. But you also write long poems. Now see, the problem is it's easy to loose a reader halfway in long pieces. It's easier to loose em them in lots of information and content.
My first suggestion would be one of two things, either
A) shorten the writes and post a series of three pieces.
Or...
B) concentrate one item in your content and build your poem around it.
I have to admit... You floor with these writes everytime and I honestly think you have a fresh magnificence in your writing, many wouldn't even understand. That is also why I recomend shortening the pieces up. Who knows you may be educating people at the same time.
Write on dear poet.
Blue Skies at you
Al
=)
19th Jun 2018 4:35pm
Thank you very much, it means a lot that you see so much in me as a writer!
