Mr. Emerson, may I just attain What you said about circles. It makes me first get offended. As is true with all wisdom All truth, we resist it at first. We do not like things to be So simple, nor do we appreciate Patterns we ourselves have not attained. Yet, looking at the mountains The trees, my palm, my fingers My gloves, the rocks, My calves, the cow's horns The lizard's ovular body The worms, the fly's which are Shaped like eggs, The grasshoppers which are shaped Like fingers, the bird's Which are shaped almost ovular The frogs, which when scrunched Are like a little oval The bushes which are ovular too... And cats and dogs and horses when they lie down. I do say I see the pattern as well. And I do believe I have a theory on why. Pi---being infinite, as is the infinite measurement of the curve--- Must inherently be the natural order of geometry. So everything, running off, and smoothing over by rain And evolving over time, Naturally must produce a circle. As, Pi is the natural shape, the natural Number of nature, by which all other things are dictated. Surely, it has its subtle imperfections Making each specimen different, But given the natural shape of all things Are likened to a circle--- And what is straight Often we can assume was man made, How men create things in squares And nature its circles--- I do say it's an offensive little thought. That I hadn't attained it first--- Maybe I equal you in genius For giving an explanation as to why--- Is it the infinite reality of Pi Which causes this? That number naturally representing The geometry of a curve Therefore, randomness must Inherently, be shaped into curves. For, the patterns in nature show That all things, built by God, Are as a curve. Men build in squares And God builds with circles. Because men must shape our environment To order, and God must shape His environment To the natural world toward that infinite Shape, that infinite number Pi. And Mr. Emerson I do not plagiarize you Rather, as you said about great poets Writing in an age where there are few, We take all things and make them our own. But, my solemn task is finding in the past Things which ought to be remembered by all For a better future. Another peculiar thought. It seems that man is the only creation Of God's which is like a rectangle. For, the Golden ratio By which men create and shape their world, Is dictated by the rectangular shape of our body. No other creature is dictated by its rectangular Form. None which I know. For, they are either cones, spheroids Or outright shaped like circles. The Human body, when standing upright Exhibits the Golden Ratio;--- That being Five to two. So do trees, so do bushes, But only human bodies seem to be nature's rectangle Which may be why we prefer them in our creations. But this strange ratio has been told to me By a much beloved professor When describing the Acropolis Which is fitted to our human shape;--- Which does appears in nature;--- Perhaps it is nature's rectangle Which we men are formed closer to---- Yes, it is most defined in our human form. For, perhaps these two measurements The measurement of Pi And the measurement of Phi, Perhaps these numbers are scientific Facts, oblong and shaping the world Through their infinite order. Perhaps Pi is nature's curve And Phi is nature's rectangle Both working together In their infinite measurements As if planed and scaled by God Like the Bible said, "Wisdom was with God when he Planed the Scale of the Earth". For, by observing this order, I am confident that God exists. For, these measurements create Upon the earth, and define all Aesthetic Beauty. That, and of course, Fibonacci's sequence; Which repeats itself through all natural shapes. For some reason, these numbers lay down the law Of how our natural world gets shaped by the Eons of textures and winds, and rains. And, certainly, to have such geometric certainty As this---for randomness cannot truly occur in nature According to these principles--- It must be that an architect, by design Created our world. And as certain as these mathematical principles are Which are observed in everything from trees To mountains, to rock formations And even the Grand Canyon and Niagara Falls, So are the moral principles laid down by Christ As certain. Which, Mr. Emerson, Is my scientific foundation for believing in Him.
One day, alighted upon my fortune There came a weary traveler. She had found a wellspring of tales As seemingly old as time, Yet discovered they were new. "What have I found?" She wondered, as tales abounded Among the language of the Saxon. What were these? Rife with mystical creatures, Yet such was the fortune found That it suddenly appeared To this modern writer's Ancient poesy, That it was discovered And thus enjoyed For as long as time was kept.
For you, for you I write. I see you truly understand my country. I see you truly understand its good. I see you cannot see a single one of its flaws. I see you believe in what America once stood. Trust me, I wish I could see it too, But I must write these odes, I must criticize. I must tear the fabric of our nation apart. So that way it will be stitched back together The right way And you will still have your rest.
One can measure the Sermon on the mount, and like Calculus, measure That Golden Ratio to Calculate and find Jesus.
The fanatic raises his weapon high Making the blood sacrifice of his faith The bare chested woman's husband his blade Drew the blood of; the infidels are nigh His every thought. "Pay back the sins in blood--- "All the dead, be the propitiation! "The alter of soil; alter of stone "Drip the blood of the dead infidel's sons." The saints of his religion pick up the Wounded upon the street, those he had killed. They balm them with the oils, wrap sterile Gauze across burned visage. For their religion was love.
When I look upon the heart of a man Who consciously decides to practice err I see him strain so hard to do what's bad Though I also see in that heart repair. When I look upon the heart of a man Who offends as part of his daily bread I see a man whose best, I understand, Is as bad as a man whose heart is dead. Though in deed, the first man's crimes seem as worse Than the man whose second deed is habit What awful sin the first commit was choice While the second man's sin is found avid. Which is worse? I do say they are both same And sad, but the first man, who's sorely grave Repented and found his good heart again; The second is bad, and will not be saved. For the first man finds Jesus Christ and prays While the second man rather stays his way. One knows his sin, and the other cannot. That is why one is saved while the other will rot.
What happens when kings Won't let you cultivate your garden?
A friendship, when built upon honest first Impressions, sparks a sincere intercourse; Which, neither putting forth a facade's mirth Can be built with true knowledge's comfort.
Narcissism as defined by psychology Is wanting to be loved. Healthy ways of being in psychology Is loving yourself. I understand what a narcissist is. Trust me, I do. But, something about the definition seems stupid. To want people to love you, That is narcissistic. To have the innate desire to love yourself This is not narcissistic. Let me reiterate. It is narcissistic to want love. It is not narcissistic to love yourself. In other words, It's healthier to love yourself Than it is to be loved by others. Let me reiterate: Everyone are narcissists And the ones who want love the most, Those are the ones who everyone say are sick.
Across the seas I look, so forth, to see The rays of dawn's mid morning light; I peer there cross the bays so seen---the sea It calls a melodic light of mulled plight. Is there or is there not a god to love Whose majesty had planed the seas so blue? For daunting feast of mind this task will seem When shown that man his suffered life anew Must live a life of grief upon this earth. Yet, good has failed we men when God's in dearth.