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From the Ashes of Descartes (Free verse) by Quarton

I omce viewed the world in comfort with my realities though, I can no longer take refuge in them knowing there remains no sustainable thesis, no gospel I may safely build on; my initial premise fatally flawed. My crumbling foundation unable to support beliefs once perceived as truth, burdened by prior notions of a universe out there, existing in seclusion; now undone by the world of quantum. A fantasy-like state emerging from the ashes of Descartes who thought he was and from his Cartesian view; therefore was. Though between mirage and reality-- like the desert traveler with cupped hands yielding only undrinkable sand-- lies the illusion of the magicians sleight of hand; things not always as they seem. While the quark and lepton dance hand in hand to the cosmic beat of uncertainty. Commomsense contradictions the rule, world transformed--fresh realities born as I gaze skyward, now able to see-- the moon and the stars are a part of me.

bondjedi 8-Apr-03/1:19 PM
You're right: it's not your fault. Alas, I still don't care much for your poem..




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