The Mating Mind

So evolution has made the human brain a phallus
A frontal protuberance that is rather callous.

It’s Darwinian lust that turns out these rhymes
For a chance to copulate and have some good times.

To quote a sonnet here and sing a song there,
And to paint a panorama for a procreating pair.

Lines of iambic pentameter are but a farce,
Have no more meaning than a baboon’s red arse.

It’s all in the genes and it’s all in the brain
And love is the demon that drives artists insane.

A picture of a pert breast and a moist massage
The passionate pant from a lingual lavage.

It doesn’t take much to get this member erect
It has bugger all to do with intellect!

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poem by Roy Lee
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By an Evolutionist

By an Evolutionist

The Lord let the house of a brute to the soul of a man,
And the man said, ‘Am I your debtor?’
And the Lord–‘Not yet; but make it as clean as you can,
And then I will let you a better.’

I.
If my body come from brutes, my soul uncertain or a fable,
Why not bask amid the senses while the sun of morning shines,
I, the finer brute rejoicing in my hounds, and in my stable,
Youth and health, and birth and wealth, and choice of women and of wines?

II.
What hast thou done for me, grim Old Age, save breaking my bones on the rack?
Would I had past in the morning that looks so bright from afar!

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poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Loss Lost in Thought

Loss of love from your partner in soul:
A.k.a. jilt;
Loss of love from your bygones of souls:
A.k.a. mourning;
Loss of love which came from a dearth
Of love through rescinding love:
A.k.a. hatred;

Love to science in analysis be
Secretion of oxytocin in association
With an entity that leads to bonding - so boring:
A.k.a. must all suffer scientific explanation?

Loss of love, a catastrophe, nay!
So love, nurture love, and be loved!

Loss of nature from dear Mother Earth:
A.k.a. destruction;
Loss of greed in material world:
A.k.a. always opportunity for altruism;

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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0375 Season of mists and merry mythfulness

You…leave…the…
Pennsylvania classroom at a
quarter to four..
leaving all your Bio. notes
for checking, at the door…

With exquisite timing, a Pennsylvania judge
has ruled that the wonders of biology, as
revealed by the dissection of neatly-pinned frogs
and suchlike squeamy miracles of internal packaging
so cleverly evolved by, uh, ‘Darwinian evolution’,
must not mention - no, not just God, as
Creator - heaven forfend - but even
‘divine intervention’ - like some ‘hey, stop the show
right there! ’, as the alternative to
‘Darwinian evolution’ - so called, by the way, because
it’s only a theory anyway, not yet
a proven law – it’s just a kinda myth..and
with nasty Emperor’s-clothes, whizz kid, questions
sticking their hand up in the classroom –

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poem by Michael Shepherd
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Total Freedom

In absolute oblivion
With nature and the forces of existence
Into play
Thousands years of history
Written
Some relics and the forgotten one
Gods word or the wise mans talk
Deriving meaning from the stars
Sun and the moon
Goddesses and deities
The great abstraction

In the realm of thought
Freedom remains the desire
Freedom from the bonds of the humanity
Freedom from all wants
Freedom from the will of others
Imposed or perpetuated
Freedom from ideas
In the name of social consciousness

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poem by Sadiqullah Khan
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Fever Nature’s Healing Power

intuitive thought
moments of eureka
prove insightful

back in the 18th century
Thomas Sydenham
considered fever seriously

to be a healing force
of nature
body's physiology

he proposed regulates
itself through multiple
mechanical equilibrium

adjustment feedbacks
such as rising fevers
nonmechanistic life forces

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poem by Terence George Craddock
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You Bet Your Life

Words by neil peart, music by geddy lee and alex lifeson
Just another hunter, like a wolf in the sun
Just another junkie on a scoring run
Just another victim of the things he has done
Just another day -- in the life of a loaded gun
The odds get even -- you name the game
The odds get even -- the stakes are the same
You bet your life
Just another winner, pours his life down the drain
Just another island in a hurricane
Just another loser, like a cat in the rain
Just another day -- in the path of a speeding train
The odds get even -- you name the game
The odds get even -- the stakes are the same
You bet your life
Anarchist reactionary running-dog revisionist
Hindu muslim catholic creation/evolutionist
Rational romantic mystic cynical idealist
Minimal expressionist post-modern neo-symbolist
Armchair rocket scientist graffiti existentialist

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song performed by Rush
Added by Lucian Velea
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Some Thoughts on Post Modernism

Camus wrote The Stranger and The Plague his last book was the myth of Sisyphus, dealing with the absurdity of rolling a rock up a hill just to have it come back down at the top of the hill. He believed in trying but yet it was hard to find a definitive reason why in a propositional sense. What does it all mean in the midst of the absurd and 'benign indifference of the universe' his last words in The Stranger. How do we have a moral defense if there are no universals? How do we band together against 'The Plague' if our existentialism is so personal that we can back nothing in any dogmatic or religious sense?
The collective becomes a real problem as far as banning together to stand against tyranny and evil when individuality is so amorphous and undefined ethically and morally. When we claim there are no boundaries and we are 'beyond good and evil' it is difficult to make a unified stand.
When the subjective and personal doesn't have any standards that are ostensible it is difficult to move collectively. When the road has no instructions and there is no defined side to drive on it is easy to have problems. When your existentialism doesn't match with mine and there is no referee or standard we both accept how do we agree? ?
When social Darwinism refutes democracy and says' the strong survive' the weak perish' biology and natural selection is ruthless and bug eats bug and we as mammals are subject to these laws of nature, when 'love thy neighbor as thy self' and ' do on too others as you would have them do on too you' are looked at as spiritual maxims but are really not universals in nature, how do we say and define what is oppression, exploitation, and inhumanity with any real authority?
What makes 'might equals right' wrong when it is endorsed by natural law? ? How does ethical and moral authority survive when we really don't have a conscience? ? If a human being is 'atoms' bio-chemistry' molecules and the laws of physics' When he is nothing more or less than a material being subject to the laws of nature and he has a myth of conscience where does it stop and what and who gains the power? ? THE STATE, THE SUPERMAN, THE WILL TO POWER, Stalin, Hitler, Major corporations, Global economies, States with nuclear weapons!
We are in troubled times and past ideologies go hand in hand with how and why we got here. Camus, Sartre, Jaspers and many other not so well known existentialists owe there background from Soren Kierkegaard from Denmark who wrote against Hegel's collectivism and State power and was one of the first to really point out what Europe and western civilization was heading for with the new rationalism and definitions from the age of reason and the enlightenment. Faith and conscience go hand and hand and they both transcend organized religion and traditional institutions.
Kierkegaard died in 1855 right around the time Dostoevsky moved to St. Petersburg and started to write 'Notes from the Underground'. Dostoevsky fought the coming religions which he and Nietzsche both knew as 'political ideologies'. Marx and Engel's published the communist manifesto in 1847, six years after Hegel died. They definitely were greatly influenced by Hegel and the belief that the state is the height of collective immanence of culture.
They broke from Hegel in several major ways especially over any spiritual mystical Christian religious viewpoints.
They believed it was all 'NATURE". Feuerbach was a Hegelist that was a minister's son who rebelled against Christianity and said all theology has to become anthropology and religious conversation should become 'political conversation'. He greatly influenced Marx and Engel's. Kierkegaard was aware of all this new collectivistic thinking and adamantly opposed it. Dostoevsky was a Marxist for awhile and after he was sent to a Siberian camp he changed and became a Christian. He was a well read man and new of many of the issues of the day. Charles Darwin published "Origin of the Species' in 1857 and social Darwinism immediately began to be written about.
The strong survive and the weak perish begin to be viewed in political ideologies and Dostoevsky begin to stand up for Christian and Platonic perspectives in his writings. This is when he wrote 'Notes from the Underground" He recognized that secularization was in process based on 2 plus 2 logic and freedom was going to be defined without spirituality and conscience. He saw 'The Herd man' coming in the arms of the STATE with a compromised church system embracing the secular with religious robes.
I see post modernism as a world below collapsing into chaos that eventually will result in a great totalitarian state replacing universals with its own steel agenda.

poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Theory of Evolution in Islam

The holy Koran supports
Theory of evolution
But it opines that
God has created human at first
In a different way
Since humans are His best creation

The angels took mud from the earth
To God’s main court in paradise
Then God expanded His visible glow
So that the angels can see His body
And make a body like His body with it
But the angels were unable
To make the face
Because God’s body
Is the most beautiful thing

Consequently
God’s body made the face
Of Adam with His own hand

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poem by Asif Andalib
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Let's Decide Lest He Decides

In the solar system, we live on this Earth
Where humans have born, humanity yet to take birth.

Of all forms, humans claim to be hero
But fanaticism of all kinds, make him big zero.
Terrorism and barbarism, still matters of big shame,
Put in the reverse gear all that humans claim.

Darwinism may give us some hope
"Natural Selection' takes its own course.
Again wait for millions of years,
Humans may get few cheers
Not without fears.

Remember your past
Mightiest forms were lost.
Giants like dinosaurs,
No body knows, were seen last.

If "struggle for existence and survival of the fittest", goes on,

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poem by Swadesh Chander Virmani
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0414 This other Eden, demi-paradise..yeah?

Eden lives.. in the misty
mountains, jungle-thick,
of Papua New Guinea..

with its community of living things
living in what, hunger apart, seems
to be harmonious balance

awaiting, unperturbed,
Man:

adorable, begging to be cloned,
kangaroos that climb trees
(it almost ranks as
showing off at Nature's
Olympic Games) : mammals
that lay eggs as easily as
a chicken crosses the road
to take a drink of milk;

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poem by Michael Shepherd
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0135An informal note to God

In case you were on holiday, this nice sunny weather,
(and may I say, what a great idea the Sun is?)
I thought I'd dropp you a line to say, in case you missed it
that our great President, the Bush
who burns with virtue like an oil well yields,
approves that 'Intelligent Design' should be made
along with the Theory of Evolution
a cornerstone of the education of our great nation.

So just in case you felt a little reduced in function
and come back from holiday to
'Oh, were you away? We hadn't missed you...'
and your new official status, that you were simply around
(around? hmmm) to 'flick the switch'
while two something-or-others got together
to evolve a Creation with its quaint old ideas, like love,
(and by the way, your bright idea
of one, two and three, etc., was cute, too...)

I'd just like to take this opportunity to say

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poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Ape and the Lady

A LADY fair, of lineage high,
Was loved by an Ape, in the days gone by -
The Maid was radiant as the sun,
The Ape was a most unsightly one -
So it would not do -
His scheme fell through;
For the Maid, when his love took formal shape,
Expressed such terror
At his monstrous error,
That he stammered an apology and made his 'scape,
The picture of a disconcerted Ape.

With a view to rise in the social scale,
He shaved his bristles, and he docked his tail,
He grew moustachios, and he took his tub,
And he paid a guinea to a toilet club.
But it would not do,
The scheme fell through -
For the Maid was Beauty's fairest Queen,
With golden tresses,

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poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Meditations: Dario Fo's discovery that God is the Supreme Head of the Italian State Railway

God, once had a mustache, double breasted jacket
Wollen turtleneck and held me on skis in Abruzzi

God, once was a second grade teacher, signorina Puccessi, teaching
Petrach, Virgil, Ovid, Boccacio, Dante, Grazia Deleddo, , to mules

God, once was whoever had 10,000 lire, the bomba,
dared to show it, to spend the whole amount on drinks

God, once was the captain of an ocean liner, Vesuvius
Crossing the atlantic to ellis island, with one push from Naples

God, once played centerfield in pinstripes, wore number 7
drank a lot, hit home runs, won world series, a good friend

God, once was a girl's eyes, her mouth, her right breast,
then her left and sometimes the void between her legs

God, once was the head of the New York Stock Exchange
and quit over a salary dispute, to save money on taxes

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poem by Liberatore Suffoletta
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The Death Of Goddesses

It used to be hard
for women,
snowed in their white lives,
white lies,
to write books
with that fine frenzy
which commends genius
to posterity,
yet estranges it
from its closest
friends.

Women were friends to all,
& being too friendly
they could not command
the unfriendly prerogatives
of genius,
though some were
geniuses still,
destroying

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poem by Erica Jong
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Double Ballade Of Primitive Man

He lived in a cave by the seas,
He lived upon oysters and foes,
But his list of forbidden degrees,
An extensive morality shows;
Geological evidence goes
To prove he had never a pan,
But he shaved with a shell when he chose, -
'Twas the manner of Primitive Man.

He worshipp'd the rain and the breeze,
He worshipp'd the river that flows,
And the Dawn, and the Moon, and the trees,
And bogies, and serpents, and crows;
He buried his dead with their toes
Tucked-up, an original plan,
Till their knees came right under their nose, -
'Twas the manner of Primitive Man.

His communal wives, at his ease,
He would curb with occasional blows;

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poem by Andrew Lang
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Would You Believe?

Would you believe
we descended from apes?

We also share bipedalism with apes
we both walk on two legs like apes; not...
Bipedalism causes considerable problems
for the back, knees and organs,

putting pressure on joints and torso
causing breathing problems...
During millions of evolutionary years
of distinctly disadvantaged changes!

Evolutionarily unfavourable adaptation? ? ?

We also share a descended larynx for speech
just like apes; not (except descended larynx monkeys) ? ? ?

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poem by Terence George Craddock
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Rumination Haj

Caught in an expressive cul-de-sac,
all imagery goes down the tube
iconoclastically, with lack
of space that curves when artists cube,
on a rumination haj,
searching an interior Mecca
thoughts collected as collage,
minimally like a Necker.

David Hadjou reviews John Adams’s Hallelujah Junction (“Music Lessons: A memoir by the composer John Adams is a collage of memory criticism, theory and ruminations on creativity, ” NYT Book Review, October 26,2008) :
Commonly mistaken for a minimalist, Adams has employed the minimalist aesthetic primarily as a point of departure. He recognized fairly early that “minimalism as a governing aesthetic could and would rapidly exhaust itself, ” as he writes here. “Like Cubism in painting, it was a radically new idea, but its reductive worldview would soon leave its practitioners caught in an expressive cul-de-sac.” Adams’s importance as a composer is rooted not so much in his having done anything new, but, rather, in his having done very well the things he has done: operas (“Nixon in China” and “The Death of Klinghoffer, ” both staged by Peter Sellars) , symphonic choral works (“On the Transmigration of Souls, ” an elegy to the victims of the Sept.11 attacks, which won the Pulitzer Prize for music in 2003) , piano pieces and a dozen or so other major compositions of various kinds. His music is minimal in the sense that Adams employs as few materials as necessary, rather than as few as possible, though he strives for and tends to achieve a maximalism of effect. With “Hallelujah Junction, ” Adams has put in prose an argument against the ideology of aesthetic continuum, a case that his music has always articulated eloquently by example. “That particular continuum I found ridiculously exclusive, being founded on a kind of Darwinian view of stylistic evolution, ” he argues. If a composition “didn’t in some way advance the evolution of the language, yielding progress either by a technological innovation or in the increasing complexity of the discourse, it was not even worth discussing.” Who cares? John Adams. And, so, now do we.

10/26/08

poem by Gershon Hepner
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You Keep Looking

You keep looking for meaning in a world
you say hasn't given you one
worth living for
and you're down and disappointed
and all that red passion
that used to burn like books and leaves
has turned as mystically brown
as the background of a Rembrandt painting
or gone up in smoke
at the Bonfire of the Vanities.
Now you're a copycat Savanarola
in a faculty lounge
trying to turn God back like the Renaissance
for behaving like the Medici.
You used to be a little on the teachy side
but now you're boring and preachy
having settled the whole issue
of what you're doing on earth like a fist.
You once went looking for the point of life like a grail.
Now you plunge it through everyone's heart like a spear.

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poem by Patrick White
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Intelligent Design

I, dot, would score, scour ocean floor,
you too were dot, not more.
We'd LOOP the LOOP in primaeval soup
our POOL gene POOL core corps.
We'd POLO here, there POLO for
none then knew scoop could droop.
We'd grin, twin core to win encore
no sour sin, hour, no law!
No fairies, flowers' fragrant bower,
nor need, nor greed for power.
No men's omens, hymns, amens dour,
no hymen's Babylonian tower -
no cause because nor clause, paws' claws,
no doors, chores, flaws, no pause.

I'd stoop, you'd swoop, with helluva whoop -
no care, unfair dis....pair.
Above, below, we'd group, regroup
all with no 'mal[e] de mer'.
Amino here, ah me! know there

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poem by Jonathan Robin
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