Poems about Knowledge
Justification
When I was a child, I made up excuses,
whenever I knew I was wrong;
feelings of guilt; my peace, reduces;
my conscience wouldn’t go along.
Truth required, that I must accept blame;
for, my guilt was ever before me;
justice always comes, in the Master’s name;
Not Born A Rose
A chrysanthemum wasn’t born a rose;
a meadow or stream; not meant a sea;
fingers, not designed to be your toes;
these are things, as were planned to be.
A man’s not a bird; capable of flight;
nor, can he remain submerged too long;
Where Will I Be ?
Where will I be; ten years hence;
will I still live in this place;
or will my matter simply condense;
disapear without even a trace?
What are we each, but an energy bubble;
surrounding some matter we created;
will each of us become reduced to rubble;
What Others See
As I gaze out at a beautiful creation,
contemplating what reality may be;
I temporarily give my eyes a vacation;
and I imagine what others may see.
I look in the mirror; and it looks back;
giving me a fearful, vacant stare;
it can almost bring on
Thought Analysis
How does thought somehow analyze;
exhibit its ability to understand;
listen to comments, and make replies;
and contemplate what to command?
How can it make such instant decisions;
while simply walking down the street;
switch and change a mind to revisions;
car and pedestrian destined to meet?
Then
…The Thunderstorm
The forcast was made; we all were prepared;
dark clouds began rolling this way;
the winds carrying dust, made vision impared;
as the thunderstorm blackened the day.
The winds gathered up much dirt and debris;
as the raindrops peppered the window pane;
though now, over land; it began
Divide, To Conquer
Few armies ever defeat, a nation united;
even when, at a madman’s behest;
evil seeks first; that nation, divided;
division is a prelude to conquest;
People united, rarelty suffer defeat;
not suffering the fool’s delusions;
united; they advance; divided, retreat;
we can draw our own
The Faceless Man
Most, to identify, focus on the face;
not seeing it; we won’t have a clue;
it’s the one feature you cannot erase;
for no other feature, will do.
We could stare at the hands and feet;
but they pretty much look the same;
it’s
