No god escapes the well wrought scope of man Such as the micro, stetho, and peri. We claim their domain with an increased span When sensation and equipment marry. Olympic lightning is tamed with a rod, Like herds of sheep with the tap of a stick, And now even the tide comes in a pod! Poseidon himself never knew such a trick! Ever and anon men are ascending Past thunderclap mountains scraping the sky And though mortality could use some mending We love to aid our unaided eye! In like fashion the poor will soon be rich Since scope...
Awash in hyper mentation, Up spun into angelic thought, I saw concepts in conflation And errata newly begot. But that, in short, is nature's scheme Evident in more than one way Such as the conflux of a dream Or combinations of DNA. Strange, to think of ourselves as flaws Formed from wayward ingredients With nothing but physical laws ...As creative expedients... Keeping the midnight mind awake To saunter the confines of daybreak!
I shout huzzahs for scholarship That blest tradition that's a gift Of skills by which a mind may sift, Great libraries, or like fellowship That help us study ancient books Or perhaps some cold case files Written up in vintage styles For future cops and aging crooks Who now fear their own DNA May cook like Mephistopheles On Baptist independence day Where sacred phantoms on the breeze Are much like drugs they call...Class A, In faithful service...of psychoses.
It's a defense mechanism You never allow me a break Except every so often You slip a little I know you care I won't tell anyone I've got to teach you to love yourself first Then I will get the spoils I can wait
There the internet lay before us To give the wisdom of the ancient ones Like Sappho, Pindar, Plutarch, and Horace And, god help us, barmy theologians Who no longer give a pulpit pounding Quite like they did in medieval times When science was so much more confounding And not as pretty as cathedral chimes. But who now aims our moral sextant? What skill set now makes us qualified Or has us getting justly expectant Now that morality has gone and died?
I place my faith in proto-psychology And recent findings in neurology!
It's reciprocity's mirror Of alternate realities Which gives the glance that guarantees To make this dear life clearer, And the portal between the two Is the wavelet surface ripple Showing, like a participle, What we should or should not do. But if to this a man is blind His soul will ever steep in hate And his definition most unkind Of what is, and, what is not great. It's the golden rule to unbind Great apes from an unkind fate!