Technology - a thumbnail tribute to Martin Heidegger
Tekne’, to the Greeks
was the art of bringing-forth
from the true (and, it’s hoped, the good)
into the beautiful:
poetry; sculpture; machinery of wood and metal
such as that which raised the Parthenon;
raised Apollo, Venus, out of stone;
raised myth out of poetry.
And I, we, too have technology
forever at our finger-tips..
Did it happen through chance,
through procrastination,
or through attention given
to a task and needs,
this ‘beautiful’ solution
that mathematicians talk about?
it happened on one godgiven day,
scrubbing those shining new potatoes:
the right-hand thumbnail now grown long
suddenly a more efficient tool
for removing ‘eyes’ and hollowed dirt..
so now, this intimate and valued tool
carefully shaped between a v and u;
and from the fingertip to heart
arises wonder, awe: the gentle curve
of nail gives added strength.. how magnificent
the humblest, least worshipped fingerends
of these so precious hands…
Do I mimic man called ‘primitive’
as I depend on nature’s tools
to alert the inventive mind
by the attention which, taken so for granted
links us to the gods themselves…?
Tools first, then machines, then ‘technology’
have no limits under divine law:
call them, the exteriorisation
of our brain, our mind:
thumbnail, bridge, interstellar rocket
are thus one in wonder; every action
now to mind and heart, a sacrament;
the bringing-forth, the showing-forth
of Man – the tekne of the gods;
the gods who live, who wake from sleep,
only when Man rounds the circle with his praise.
“Questioning is the piety of thought.”
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Metal Gods
Weve taken too much for granted
And all the time it had grown
From techno seeds we first planted
Evolved a mind of its own
Marching in the streets
Dragging iron feet
Laser beaming hearts
Ripping men apart
From off Ive seen my perfection
Where we could do as we please
In secrecy this infection
Was spreading like a disease
Hiding underground
Knowing wed be found
Fearing for our lives
Reaped by robots scythes
Metal gods
Metal gods
(solo glenn)
Metal gods
Metal gods
Machines are taking all over
With mankind in their command
In time theyd like to discover
How they can make their demand
Better be the slaves
To their wicked ways
But meeting with our death
Engulfed in molten breath
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thumbnails and finger ends
A book of learned scholarship,
open in my hands, at the first page…
and then I saw, to the right of it,
my thumb nail…and marvelled –
at its perfection, at its beauty,
and at my own ignorance –
which strangely, was all part
of that same beauteous perfection…
the thumbnail: curved, as a hollowed claw,
the curve I knew would give it added strength;
sitting as secure as any child of love,
within the folded mystery of skin and flesh;
three-coloured: pale rising moon
emerging from its secret nail-bed
as some goddess might appear;
then the subtle shades of rosy pink,
hinting at blood serving readily
the nail’s demands;
finally, the top (long, shaped, as best to gouge
potato’s eyes, and other kitchen tasks…) :
I looked at it, and marvelled:
the whole creation, conspiring to present
this perfect thing…
Fifty years and more ago, I wrote,
in those years when I despaired
of making sense of so-called ‘adult’ world,
sitting at the desk, to find myself
before setting off to earn my daily bread,
I wrote – in lines that never quite linked up
their visioned moments into complete poems,
on white and yearning pages like a life unwrit:
‘we know not our own finger ends…’
The wrinkled thumb and finger – they have lasted;
the holy mystery - praise God - remains.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Poetry Unlimited
Poetry is looking,
at a flower and,
seeing the beauty
hidden within.
Poetry is bringing
out love, deep in
your heart, telling
your love one how you feel.
Poetry is feeling
a cool breeze
as you lie in an open
field, so deep in thought.
Poetry is seeing
the beauty of soft
fluffy white clouds
as no one else does.
Poetry is hearing
sounds of nature
soaking it all in
to mind and soul.
Poetry is watching and
standing by river's edge
seeing rippling water
flowing to places unknown.
Poetry is gazing at
rolling hills stretching
as far, as the eye
can see.
Poetry is digging
deep into inter feelings
bringing it out
and exposing it.
Poetry is love
Poetry is feelings
Poetry is seeing
Poetry is what you are.
Little House Made Out Of Logs
I was raised in a little house
Made out of logs
Had a dirt chimney
Made from moss
Cut out windows
No glass at all
Little house
Made out of logs
Never swept any floor
Made out of dirt
You don't see any more
Kerosene lamps
Water from the spring
Makes me thirsty again
Raised on potatoes and cornbread
Wood stove was all we had
Never thought much about the holidays
Just a season for another time and place
Can't forget how I was raised
Makes you learn to appreciate
I could do the same in time
Little log house
On my mind
poem by Monette Paul
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Poetry On The Chin
You gouged my mind's eye,
Tantalised all inner thought,
Shocked from unknown angles;
Sold me, told me cold,
Unfolded, moulded;
Shouldered any harbouring
Of empty morals.
You spun me round; undressed -
Pestered me with background riddle -
Piffle came to gleaning meaning.
And you stripped out prejudice - for none
Must exist in poetry,
Lest you close up an open mind
And f**k up as reader;
Lest your heart is not a bleeder -
It has to be - let it flush out
Upon your sleeve.
You lay apart my thinking brain
And let in the literary pickings of a
Great poetic phallus.
Yes, poetry can be callous.
Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Many Gods
Gods are too many in one religion-
That is an asking of much distaste.
Gods are like religions of adjustment,
Lots of them would affect us in different ways.
Gods may produce laughter,
But Thor is no good with thunder.
Gods are not selling me objects,
Due to the weather and frame of mind.
I live with gods and goddesses
For I am a job to do with the highest ones.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Step-in-stone
Loud sound with heavy fall
Seemed to me as nature’s call
There was no collapse of wall
Only lightening with shining ball
Clouds roaming with curious move
Thunderous sound adds fear but not remove
Pleasant scene with changing mood
Rain may bring happiness and fortune good
I saw the angel rushing from sky
Shining stone in hand but couldn’t think why?
May be bringing some fortune on land
Wings so wide spread with raised hands
May be stone was delivered by beautiful angel
Beautifully engraved message with little angle
Sudden dropp from window aroused interest
Heavenly help could only be delivered as best
Heart shown with piercing arrow
Small tree branch in mouth of sparrow
Coming in with precious peaceful message
May be heart is hurt but inviting passage
I tried to decode message on stone
It was for me and for me alone
I should be convinced with honesty behind
Pure feelings in message simply seen and find
It may be natural and divine way
Only pure hearts may have the say
Nature may be lenient with simple blessings
Life may be fulfilled and nothing goes missing
I looked towards sky with broad smile
Happiness surfaced and laughed for while
Alas! she was not with me to share the joy
I never considered her doll or simple toy
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Gods Made Heavy Metal
In the beginning there was silence and darkness
All across the earth
Then came the wind and a hole in the sky
Thunder and lightning came crashing down
Hit the earth and split the ground
Fire burned high in the sky
From down below fire melted the stone
The ground shook and started to pound
The gods made heavy metal and they saw that is was good
They said to play it louder than Hell
We promised that we would
When losers say it's over with you know that it's a lie
The gods made heavy metal and it's never gonna die
We are the true believers
It's our turn to show the world
In the fire of heavy metal we were burned
It's more than our religion it's the only way to live
But the enemies of metal we can't forgive
Cause we believe in the power and the might
And the gods who made metal are with us tonight
The gods made heavy metal and they saw that is was good
They said to play it louder than Hell
We promised that we would
When losers say it's over with you know that it's a lie
The gods made heavy metal and it's never gonna die
We believe in the power and the might
And the gods who made metal are with us tonight
We're here tonight for heavy metal are you ready in the hall
They have chosen us and we have heard the call
Gonna tear the roof off with our sound
Crack the walls and shake the ground
Fight tonight for metal one and all
Cause we believe in the power and the might
And the gods who made metal are with us tonight
The gods made heavy metal and they saw that is was good
They said to play it louder than Hell
We promised that we would
When losers say it's over with you know that it's a lie
The gods made heavy metal and it's never gonna die
song performed by by Manowar from Louder Than Hell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poetry Is
Poetry is when she wakes up with a smile on her angel face and says thank you for watching over my breathe all night, its when I hold her and she says I miss missing you even when I’m right there next to her.
Her EYES are the mother of poetry, one of a kind, her SMILE is the goddess of poetry, rare and beautiful, her VOICE is the heaven of poetry, so sweet and gentle.
When she loves me she does so with all the poetry she has inside her, , , everything about her is poetry, her poetry speaks to me without saying anything, it touches me without holding me, it makes me feel even without her near me
SHE IS POETRY IN MY SOUL, IN MY MIND, IN MY HEART.
poem by Tendai Maturure
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When Poetry Was
When Poetry was beautiful
Everything was beautiful
Too beautiful to desire
When Poetry educated
Everything was amazing
Too amazing to know
When Poetry was visionary
Everything was believable
Nothing was impossible
When Poetry was political
Everything mattered
Especially knowing why
When poetry died
Humanity plummeted
Into the abyss of technology
4/22/12
poem by Tim caffery
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I See You But You Don't See Me
i am invisbile
i have the powers handed to me by the gods
to be invisible
on this site to have many faces to have many
forms and colors and
dispositions
beyond gender
beyong boundaries
religion, beliefs, beyond what you ordinarily call
poetry
i am invisible to anybody's closed eyes
narrow alleys
i have wings i can always fly
i have horns i can always bully each
one of you here
you do not see me
but i always see you
when you fall
it will be my poetry
that will stop the falling
when you melt
it will be my poetry
that will solidify you
the gods the gods
they must have cursed me
i am always invisible
even to myself
i touch but i do not feel
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In Separate And Foolish Divisions
Too controlling.
Many set out to prove from birth,
They could and would with a showing of self worth...
Fake to erase the slightest mistakes they've made,
And unmistakably done as they continue to do.
Yet unable to face they are,
Their own flaws well covered and left unpursued.
They were raised,
With an 'look-at-me-see-what-I've-got'...
Mentality.They were raised to think of unity as a curse.
But used as a reaaon to come together,
To rehearse the berating done to others.
With a doing to anyone,
Regardless of how sacred relationships were.
They were raised,
Not to praise one another with encouragement.
Or support or re-enforce their successes.
But instead they had a purpose,
To ensure no one would achieve...
Unless they were the ones perceived,
As deserving of getting attention.
And without mentioning they did everything possible,
To do what they could to get it.
Raised to behave to pass judgement.
Based upon appearances and 'things' claimed owned.
Raised to behave to pass judgement.
As if those that did not condone their point of view,
Were not as blessed to profess they had been 'favored'.
With their 'holier-than-thou' self righteous attitudes,
Obsessed to self absorb and accepted as a right of passage.
And with a flaunting of pretentions they kept to do religiously,
In separate and foolish divisions!
Believing restrictions like this,
Would keep hidden their blemishes...
Out of sight, out of mind and away from a living of life.
And no one can deny the obviousness of their boundaries,
When witnessing the limits their minds have set.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Mother To Mother
Mother to daughter, mother to mother
A greater love, there is no other.
You looked towards me for your guidance and my love
But this was given to both of us
From the lord up above.
I protected and sheltered you the best that I could.
And you followed the same road that we all take
We did not stop or hesitate.
A mother is not one who just gives birth
But one who shows her worth.
I was her mother, she was my daughter
Everything according to GODS order.
I raised mine, she raised her own.
But the love we had was always shown.
She was like the sun bringing light into this world
For she was my little girl.
She was like the sun radiating beauty from
The inside out, of that I have no doubt.
As the sun brings a smile to your face
And leaves you with a glow inside.
She could do this, and that’s no lie.
She created life, and loved them with such tender care
And the joys and sorrows, with them she’d share.
She loved and honored her children in every way she could
And raised them the way a mother should.
She was closer to me, more than anyone could ever know
And put in me a strength that would grow.
When it was the time for the LORD to take her away
And I’m sure that she wanted to stay.
She gave her soul to our lord above
But left us with an enduring love.
So to my daughter I say to you, I loved you at your birth
And I loved you till the end, for you was
not only my daughter, but my friend.
mother to mother, I thank you with all my heart and soul
For you left me with beautiful children for me to hold.
poem by Louis Rams
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All tools have intrinsic politics and technology is the tool of now.
quote by Godfrey Reggio
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beautiful Mind
A BEATIFUL MIND IS A VIRGIN MIND.A BEAUTIFUL MIND THINK NO EVIL.ABEAUTIFUL MIND IS PREACIOUS THAN DIAMOND.A BEAUTIFUL MIND LIVE IN PEACE LIKE DOVE IN THE SKY.A BEAUTIFUL MIND IS PURELIKE OLIVE OIL.A BEAUTIFUL MIND HAS NO PLACE FOR HATRED.A BEAUTIFUL MIND WILL ALWAYS THINK OF LOVE AND CARE AND NOT TO HURT.A BEAUTIFUL MIND WILL PUT A LIGHT IN THE WORLD THAT WILL BE BRIGTHER THAN DAY LIGHT.IF A THOUSAND PROBLEMS APPEARS, A BEAUTIFUL MIND WILL COME UP WIHT MILLIONS SOLUTION.
poem by Tijani Adebowale Destiny
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No Shame
See me, I have no shame
Poetry's a losing game
Tongue in cheek, but it's all the same
Poetry's a caring game
My memory could be amazed
Yet it's been erased
I have nothing planned
My Brain could use a hand
Lines cannot be found
Please look all around
I'll get a helping hand
This Poem's a futile stand
Have I lost my mind?
Poetry I'm sure you'll find
Sometimes, can be unkind
By those who are unsigned
Just ignore the sods
Let them pray to their gods
You know I have no shame
Poetry's a funny game.
poem by Gordon David
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0016 Fathers, Sons, and Families
and next to the world of heavenly gods,
the world of ancestors…
when ageing Indian fathers heard the call
that spoke some other world, they called their son
and put to him three propositions, to which
he might then make three promises:
‘You are all things - you are God in everything ' –
this the first, to call the open mind
to gain the widest knowledge of all things;
‘You are sacrifice, surrender – you are universal law,
tradition, responsibility…’: this the second; then
‘You are the world – you are humanity itself—
find this and live by it..’
the father’s mind now freed; and for the son,
continuity; and constancy; the good passed on;
all that fathers seek, for family and son;
and so the family lives on, in sweet redemption
of its generations, in its hopes, and in its love.
* * *
And so, I like to think, poets speak for them today
in rituals of poetry; holding in cupped hands
against the cold night winds of chance and change
the lights that pass from hand to hand,
from mouth to mouth, from ear to ear,
saying, remember, you are all things
in all your shining consciousness;
you speak of all good things and pass them on
in all your glorious languages;
you are the world, yourself,
you are humanity
poem by Michael Shepherd
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With My Finger Up And Raised
Tired of deceivers,
And the lies they leave...
Yes I am.
Yes I am.
Tired of the thieves,
And corruption of beliefs...
Yes I am.
Yes I am.
Tired of false faces that come.
Tired of those fixed smiles done.
Tired of the running by some...
Of those who say they care!
But not one woe I will do!
Tired of deceivers,
And the lies they leave...
Yes I am.
Yes I am.
Tired of the thieves,
And corruption of beliefs...
Yes I am.
Yes I am.
But not a single woe I will do.
And....
Not a woe I will do will prove...
With my finger up and raised!
Tired of the thieves,
And corruption of beliefs...
Yes I am.
Yes I am.
Tired of deceivers,
And the lies they leave...
Yes I am.
Yes I am.
But not a single woe I will do.
And....
Not a woe I will do will prove.
Or a showing I have had it,
With attitude.
And my finger up and raised!
But not a single woe I will do.
No.
Not a woe I will do will prove...
Or a showing I have had it,
With attitude.
And my finger up and raised!
With my finger up and raised!
'You don't need your finger up and raised.'
With my finger up and raised!
'You don't need your finger up and raised.'
With my finger up and raised!
'You don't need your finger up and raised.'
With my finger up and raised!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Hammerfall
Silent screaming, youre on your own
Balancing on a blade between
Whats right and what is wrong
Dont loose your faith, dont sit there in silence
Show your strength, lets hail the metal gods,
Bare your heart
All for one, our burning hearts will live forever
One for all, together standing strong
Hammerfall - we will prevail
Hammerfall - let us hail
We share a dread, the future is ours
A metal heart is hard to tear apart, heed the call
We run this race, but we will never crawl,
All hail hammerfall
All for one, our burning hearts will live forever
One for all, together standing strong
Hammerfall - we will prevail
Hammerfall - let us hail
Just follow your heart, dont listen to the crowed
The wisdom, the voice is calling from inside
The time long forgotten will soon come again
Prepare for the meeting, the gods of metal reign
song performed by by Hammerfall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think it's fair to say that personal computers have become the most empowering tool we've ever created. They're tools of communication, they're tools of creativity, and they can be shaped by their user.
quote by Bill Gates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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