Whatever else we claim as ours, inside the bag that we call us,
we are more than the hydrogen that suns sublime in nuclear flame.
That simple trick of gravity combined with heat, spontaneous
and without god, makes molten mass that but for us would have no name.

Yet here we are, named Dick and Tom, agglomerates of fusion fire
held tight together for some time, which in itself is not defined.
At best we say that we pass through, like current through a copper wire;
except, of course, electron flow is by that very path confined.

Not so the spirit loosed from bonds; valency, like carbon digits,
grasps and grips what has no soul but lets slips through the human essence.
Moved by this strange inoculant, we live and love and fuss and fidget;
time deforms the hands that hook us, dangling over fate’s senescence.

Old age it seems is an illusion, atomic parts remain as new;
the force that binds our bits together will not hold us hale and well.
Who made this plan, this rum re-cycle…building us with such poor glue?
Ah, you say, that must be god…and if not He then who in hell?

Tectak
2014

(09-15-2014, 01:47 AM)tectak Wrote:  Whatever else we claim as ours, inside the bag that we call us, not sure about bag, nothing tangible its just too blunt for me
we are more than the hydrogen that suns sublime in nuclear flame. I like the sonics of suns sublime and the use of suns ,I would of been predictable and wrote burns
That simple trick of gravity combined with heat, spontaneous like the break here
and without god, makes molten mass that but for us would have no name.

Yet here we are, named Dick and Tom, agglomerates of fusion fire Fire sounds odd, out of place or context, It could be me.
held tight together for some time, which in itself is not defined. nice internal rhymes
At best we say that we pass through, like current through a copper wire;
except, of course, electron flow is by that very path confined.

Not so the spirit loosed from  bonds; valency, like carbon digits,
grasps and grips what has no soul but lets slips through the human essence.again good sonics
Moved by this strange inoculant, we live and love and fuss and fidget;
time deforms the hands that hook us, dangling over fate’s senescence.

Old age it seems is an illusion, atomic parts remain as new;
the force that binds our bits together will not hold us hale and well.
Who made this plan, this rum re-cycle…building us with such poor glue? rum re-cycle, very nice
Ah, you say, that must be god…and if not He then who in hell? I like the close and the twist here to hell, but why capitalize He and not God?

Tectak
2014

Very much enjoyed this scientific approach to old age, I had to google a few words but I got there, I should also say I had read it three times before I noticed the rhyming scheme i think this was due to the clever internal rhymes and deft use of alliteration. My favorite line is the penultimate one because it challenges our design. Other than to throw in a cheap "it seems a little wordy" I have no other crit. Best Keith

(09-16-2014, 08:11 AM)Keith Wrote:  

(09-15-2014, 01:47 AM)tectak Wrote:  Whatever else we claim as ours, inside the bag that we call us, not sure about bag, nothing tangible its just too blunt for me
we are more than the hydrogen that suns sublime in nuclear flame. I like the sonics of suns sublime and the use of suns ,I would of been predictable and wrote burns
That simple trick of gravity combined with heat, spontaneous like the break here
and without god, makes molten mass that but for us would have no name.

Yet here we are, named Dick and Tom, agglomerates of fusion fire Fire sounds odd, out of place or context, It could be me.
held tight together for some time, which in itself is not defined. nice internal rhymes
At best we say that we pass through, like current through a copper wire;
except, of course, electron flow is by that very path confined.

Not so the spirit loosed from  bonds; valency, like carbon digits,
grasps and grips what has no soul but lets slips through the human essence.again good sonics
Moved by this strange inoculant, we live and love and fuss and fidget;
time deforms the hands that hook us, dangling over fate’s senescence.

Old age it seems is an illusion, atomic parts remain as new;
the force that binds our bits together will not hold us hale and well.
Who made this plan, this rum re-cycle…building us with such poor glue? rum re-cycle, very nice
Ah, you say, that must be god…and if not He then who in hell? I like the close and the twist here to hell, but why capitalize He and not God?

Tectak
2014

Very much enjoyed this scientific approach to old age, I had to google a few words but I got there, I should also say I had read it three times before I noticed the rhyming scheme i think this was due to the clever internal rhymes and deft use of alliteration. My favorite line is the penultimate one because it challenges our design. Other than to throw in a cheap "it seems a little wordy" I have no other crit. Best Keith

Hi Keith,
thanks for this. All comments eaten. Re. the "scientific" approach...yes, I have been thinking along these lines for many years...what is the difference between a live "bag" of bits and a dead (body bag) one? To me it seems as if the most obvious symptom of impending physical departure is the breaking of molecular, as distinct from atomic, bonds...the forces that bind us (together).
As for the capitalising of He...I thought about it for a very long time. I wanted to play down the specificity of any particular god in the body of the argument but then, to clinch the inevitable conclusion, I hoped that the cautious dying conversion required a nod to respect...hence the capital. That is all.
Best,
Tom

Yes we are more than merely hydrogen: we are Carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen, sulfur, phosphorous, sodium, potassium, calcium and some trace elements assembled in a bag over a support structure. Bag is a good analogy for our integuments, organs and even the very plasma membranes of our cells. You other concept of a zoological entity inoculated with a soul to become what we call human is intriguing.



I enjoyed your simplified theory of aging and death that logically posits that our atoms remain intact while our biopolymers hydrolyze and high-order molecules break down. I like the idea that it is through those breeches that the soul escapes upon passing.



However, there is no solid hydrogen in stars (it’s a bit too warm). Therefore, suns do not sublimate hydrogen, i.e., cause the solid form to go directing to a vaporous one. I would do something with helium, the major by product of hydrogen fusion within the sun, something like: ‘…more than the helium that suns exhale…’



I like the passing through metaphor of current through copper as electrons. Some might argue that our paths are any less restricted than to a single wire. Are we ‘agglomerates’ from a single source of material or ‘conglomerates’ of matter from various sources?



I am not certain if the carbon digits belong to the spirits or represent the bonds, probably the latter. ‘Grasps/grips’ has some nice alliteration, but the terms are almost synonyms for me.



‘lets slips’ seems off, sonically if not grammatically.



I like this existential pondering at the atomic level. Thanks for the post./Chris

(09-17-2014, 07:04 PM)ChristopherSea Wrote:  Yes we are more than merely hydrogen: we are Carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen, sulfur, phosphorous, sodium, potassium, calcium and some trace elements assembled in a bag over a support structure. Bag is a good analogy for our integuments, organs and even the very plasma membranes of our cells. You other concept of a zoological entity inoculated with a soul to become what we call human is intriguing.



I enjoyed your simplified theory of aging and death that logically posits that our atoms remain intact while our biopolymers hydrolyze and high-order molecules break down. I like the idea that it is through those breeches that the soul escapes upon passing.



However, there is no solid hydrogen in stars (it’s a bit too warm). Therefore, suns do not sublimate hydrogen, i.e., cause the solid form to go directing to a vaporous one. I would do something with helium, the major by product of hydrogen fusion within the sun, something like: ‘…more than the helium that suns exhale…’



I like the passing through metaphor of current through copper as electrons. Some might argue that our paths are any less restricted than to a single wire. Are we ‘agglomerates’ from a single source of material or ‘conglomerates’ of matter from various sources?



I am not certain if the carbon digits belong to the spirits or represent the bonds, probably the latter. ‘Grasps/grips’ has some nice alliteration, but the terms are almost synonyms for me.



‘lets slips’ seems off, sonically if not grammatically.



I like this existential pondering at the atomic level. Thanks for the post./Chris

High Chris,
Forensic as is fitting. I only argue that at the atomic level we are very much mostly hydrogen, being what...65% water at a raitio of 2-1 hydrogen to oxygen. You are right with "sublimation" but I said "sublime"...the difference is subtle and perhaps just too off-the-wall if not downright wrong, both physically and semantically.....but like "carbon digits" there is a twist in the meaning to both words. Digits, fingers...digits valency bonds...fingers grasp (reach out through weak nuclear force) and grip (strong nuclear force).
This was an attempt to carry the metaphor right down to sub atomic level wherein I considered the final god particle to be solid and all other states were sublimates in that the combinations would, in all likelihood, be gases in the sun...even though "made" from the one true solid particle....harrumph. I know what I mean.
Regarding the use of "spontaneous", I was really trying to force the definition away from the behavioral and in to the chemical where it is rather more defined as an inevitability...without the need for godly input.

Definition of agglomerate in English:agglomerate
Line breaks: ag¦glom¦er|ate
verb
Pronunciation: /əˈɡlɒməreɪt
 /
Collect or form into a mass or group:

Hmmm... yes...no?

I think we are above mere mortals in this, chris(Smileys no longer work)

Someone will bring us down to earth....and soon I hope!

Best,
tectak

Tom,

I question your use of "sublime" and think instead it should be "sublimate".

"That simple trick of gravity combined with heat, spontaneous and without god"
Even if I agree with you, you merely make a statement without supporting evidence, here you are pedantic as much as the fundamentalist you detest. It is a trap of science and especially of scientist who fall into this haughtiness of correctness.

"At best we say that we pass through, like current through a copper wire;
except, of course, electron flow is by that very path confined."
Predestination?

"the hands that hook us, dangling over fate’s senescence"
Almost a paraphrase of Edward's "An angry God".

"Who made this plan, this rum re-cycle…building us with such poor glue?"
Mixing in a little hubris aren't we. what makes the particulars of mankind so important. I look at the galaxy and note the millions of stars, and then the universe filled with billions of galaxies, which my ego will not let me grasp in its entirety, and understand that a bug smashed under a thumb has as much significance as a single human life, or even the entire history of the human race. Science answers all questions. "From where comes man...chance."

I have no poetic problems with this poem, except it is reduced to strictly the intellectual level, and stirs nothing in the reader to care about, so in that sense maybe it proved its purpose.

Dale  

   

(09-18-2014, 01:09 AM)Erthona Wrote:  Tom,

I question your use of "sublime" and think instead it should be "sublimate".

"That simple trick of gravity combined with heat, spontaneous and without god"
Even if I agree with you, you merely make a statement without supporting evidence, here you are pedantic as much as the fundamentalist you detest. It is a trap of science and especially of scientist who fall into this haughtiness of correctness.

"At best we say that we pass through, like current through a copper wire;
except, of course, electron flow is by that very path confined."
Predestination?

"the hands that hook us, dangling over fate’s senescence"
Almost a paraphrase of Edward's "An angry God".

"Who made this plan, this rum re-cycle…building us with such poor glue?"
Mixing in a little hubris aren't we. what makes the particulars of mankind so important. I look at the galaxy and note the millions of stars, and then the universe filled with billions of galaxies, which my ego will not let me grasp in its entirety, and understand that a bug smashed under a thumb has as much significance as a single human life, or even the entire history of the human race. Science answers all questions. "From where comes man...chance."

I have no poetic problems with this poem, except it is reduced to strictly the intellectual level, and stirs nothing in the reader to care about, so in that sense maybe it proved its purpose.

Dale  

   

Bump!!!! The ego has landed!

Thanks dale, but it is rather a mission accomplished....twist on the word, as always.

The sublime is not holding water...it must go...even so, one can sublime as well as sublimate. As I poorly explained, I was hoping for the duality of sublime. I failed.

verb

1 [no object] Chemistry (Of a solid substance) change directly into vapour when heated, typically forming a solid deposit again on cooling: the ice sublimed away, leaving the books dry and undamaged
More example sentences
1.1 [with object] Cause (a substance) to sublime: these crystals could be sublimed under a vacuum
2 [with object] archaic Elevate to a high degree of moral or spiritual purity or excellence: let your thoughts be sublimed by the spirit of God

I do give god a parting boost....if not he who? You are asking ME?

Best,
tectak
Now read Thank You. Flip side.

(09-16-2014, 08:11 AM)Keith Wrote:  

(09-15-2014, 01:47 AM)tectak Wrote:  Whatever else we claim as ours, inside the bag that we call us, not sure about bag, nothing tangible its just too blunt for me
we are more than the hydrogen that suns sublime in nuclear flame. I like the sonics of suns sublime and the use of suns ,I would of been predictable and wrote burns
That simple trick of gravity combined with heat, spontaneous like the break here
and without god, makes molten mass that but for us would have no name.

Yet here we are, named Dick and Tom, agglomerates of fusion fire Fire sounds odd, out of place or context, It could be me.
held tight together for some time, which in itself is not defined. nice internal rhymes
At best we say that we pass through, like current through a copper wire;
except, of course, electron flow is by that very path confined.

Not so the spirit loosed from  bonds; valency, like carbon digits,
grasps and grips what has no soul but lets slips through the human essence.again good sonics
Moved by this strange inoculant, we live and love and fuss and fidget;
time deforms the hands that hook us, dangling over fate’s senescence.

Old age it seems is an illusion, atomic parts remain as new;
the force that binds our bits together will not hold us hale and well.
Who made this plan, this rum re-cycle…building us with such poor glue? rum re-cycle, very nice
Ah, you say, that must be god…and if not He then who in hell? I like the close and the twist here to hell, but why capitalize He and not God?He-Helium

Tectak
2014

Very much enjoyed this scientific approach to old age, I had to google a few words but I got there, I should also say I had read it three times before I noticed the rhyming scheme i think this was due to the clever internal rhymes and deft use of alliteration. My favorite line is the penultimate one because it challenges our design. Other than to throw in a cheap "it seems a little wordy" I have no other crit. Best Keith

God how I love a righteous, fact-based (except for a wee bit of poetic licentiousness) poem!
Spirited.
Sublimate's a sublime metaphor.
Death is necessary for a species to evolve.
Recombination needs room.
Everything that lived forever is extinct*.


*ignoring various very tiny archaea, bacteria, and eukaryota

(09-15-2014, 01:47 AM)tectak Wrote:  Whatever else we claim as ours, inside the bag that we call us,
we are more than the hydrogen that suns sublime in nuclear flame.
That simple trick of gravity combined with heat, spontaneous
and without god, makes molten  mass that but for us would have no name.

Yet here we are, named Dick and Tom, agglomerates of fusion fire
held tight together for some time, which in itself is not defined.
At best we say that we pass through, like current through a copper wire;
except, of course, electron flow is by that very path confined.

Not so the spirit loosed from  bonds; valency, like carbon digits,
grasps and grips what has no soul but lets slips through the human essence.
Moved by this strange inoculant, we live and love and fuss and fidget;
time deforms the hands that hook us, dangling over fate’s senescence.

Old age it seems is an illusion, atomic parts remain as new;
the force that binds our bits together will not hold us hale and well.
Who made this plan, this rum re-cycle…building us with such poor glue?
Ah, you say, that must be god…and if not He then who in hell?

Tectak
2014

Religion and science are both in play here. It seems to me the speaker leans towards
Science as an exclamation, but still remains unsure. The speaker is very educated using
Big scientific words, he/she is trying to justify the connection we have with the world.
A scientist struggling with what we all most cope with?
I find this interesting in it's puzzling ambiguity.

My concern is that the advanced language may dissuage some.
I get that science is a central theme here, and the speaker needs
To be credit able, but words you only see on the SATs may
Turn readers away before they can appreciate the message.
Or maybe they weren't intelligent enough to begin with. Heck,
I'm not sure if I am, but as a reader this is what your poem
Made me think. Pinning down a unigue and exact theme would
Prove challenging here, again those big word can reinforce your point,
Just as much as they can confuse the reader. Also the line length
Is exceptionally long compared to most poems, does that reflect
The content? I suppose, but that uncertainty is also what this poem
Is really about in my opinion.

I'm not too keen on science stuff, or religious stuff, but heck
If I can't recognize them conflicting in a poem!

(09-25-2014, 03:40 PM)StanleyZ Wrote:  

(09-15-2014, 01:47 AM)tectak Wrote:  Whatever else we claim as ours, inside the bag that we call us,
we are more than the hydrogen that suns sublime in nuclear flame.
That simple trick of gravity combined with heat, spontaneous
and without god, makes molten  mass that but for us would have no name.

Yet here we are, named Dick and Tom, agglomerates of fusion fire
held tight together for some time, which in itself is not defined.
At best we say that we pass through, like current through a copper wire;
except, of course, electron flow is by that very path confined.

Not so the spirit loosed from  bonds; valency, like carbon digits,
grasps and grips what has no soul but lets slips through the human essence.
Moved by this strange inoculant, we live and love and fuss and fidget;
time deforms the hands that hook us, dangling over fate’s senescence.

Old age it seems is an illusion, atomic parts remain as new;
the force that binds our bits together will not hold us hale and well.
Who made this plan, this rum re-cycle…building us with such poor glue?
Ah, you say, that must be god…and if not He then who in hell?

Tectak
2014

Religion and science are both in play here. It seems to me the speaker leans towards
Science as an exclamation, but still remains unsure. The speaker is very educated using
Big scientific words, he/she is trying to justify the connection we have with the world.
A scientist struggling with what we all most cope with?
I find this interesting in it's puzzling ambiguity.

My concern is that the advanced language may dissuage some.
I get that science is a central theme here, and the speaker needs
To be credit able, but words you only see on the SATs may
Turn readers away before they can appreciate the message.
Or maybe they weren't intelligent enough to begin with. Heck,
I'm not sure if I am, but as a reader this is what your poem
Made me think. Pinning down a unigue and exact theme would
Prove challenging here, again those big word can reinforce your point,
Just as much as they can confuse the reader. Also the line length
Is exceptionally long compared to most poems, does that reflect
The content? I suppose, but that uncertainty is also what this poem
Is really about in my opinion.

I'm not too keen on science stuff, or religious stuff, but heck
If I can't recognize them conflicting in a poem!

Hi Stan,
Thank you for your take on this...it is as valid as any, though the definition of "big" words seems over-subjective. In any piece you must avoid making assumptions about the reader...indeed, this applies to crit, too!
I take on board your intended point, but excuse myself on the grounds that at 66 I am not overly concerned by SAT's.
I will, nonetheless, take another look at the "language" used but have to say that simplifying the complex often complicates further. If you indicated in a line by line which words you think are problematic, sorry...hard, I will have a stab at clarification, sorry...well, you see what I mean.
The "Thank you" poem is the contra-view.
Best,
and thank you,
tectak

the main problem here is the unintelligibility in the original question which shows the speakers inability to form a coherent question from which to begin his investigation.

The speaker asks "if not God then who?" Now, I don't blame the speaker for the absurdity, but rather hundreds of years of subsequent incoherences leading to even more unintellible problems of skepticism etc, in refutations that subject themselves to the same vocabulary of the very thing they refute, and continually get worse as they go on may be to blame here.

It's important to note that the problem I'm faced with here is not a problem of content, "message", or "meaning"-- despite the semantics that I'm about to address -- or of any difference of opinion or views,  but an anomaly that can only be regarded as technical error.

If not God then who is incoherent, not profound (and I think it is important to make the distinction here), for the following reasons:

The speaker seems to have no idea just what it is he is asking.

If it must be a "who" and this "who" is a conscious, god like entity, then wouldn't it be fair and safe to simply call this who "God"?

I don't find the paradox very interesting; if the speaker asks what we could still wonder if the what is a who, but he seems to be erroneously--and inadvertently--imposing a world view on the reader through his inability to construct a coherent question.

It could maybe be if not my good then your god? or whatever a reader might dream up in their futile attempts to make the question intelligible, but trying too hard or reading much further into the poem would be masochistic imo.

(09-28-2014, 03:54 AM)trueenigma Wrote:  the main problem here is the unintelligibility in the original question which shows the speakers inability to form a coherent question from which to begin his investigation.

The speaker asks "if not God then who?" Now, I don't blame the speaker for the absurdity, but rather hundreds of years of subsequent incoherences leading to even more unintellible problems of skepticism etc, in refutations that subject themselves to the same vocabulary of the very thing they refute, and continually get worse as they go on may be to blame here.

It's important to note that the problem I'm faced with here is not a problem of content, "message", or "meaning"-- despite the semantics that I'm about to address -- or of any difference of opinion or views,  but an anomaly that can only be regarded as technical error.

If not God then who is incoherent, not profound (and I think it is important to make the distinction here), for the following reasons:

The speaker seems to have no idea just what it is he is asking.

If it must be a "who" and this "who" is a conscious, god like entity, then wouldn't it be fair and safe to simply call this who "God"?

I don't find the paradox very interesting; if the speaker asks what we could still wonder if the what is a who, but he seems to be erroneously--and inadvertently--imposing a world view on the reader through his inability to construct a coherent question.

It could maybe be if not my good then your god? or whatever a reader might dream up in their futile attempts to make the question intelligible, but trying too hard or reading much further into the poem would be masochistic imo.

I find myself in total agreement...such is the absurdity of intellectualising over religion. The express purpose of this piece is to highlight the inability of a doctrinaire to evoke sensible analysis...hence the question. If anyone has an answer I would be firstly surprised, secondly disbelieving and thirdly in fits of hysterical laughter. On a small point, I can think of nothing which is "god like" anymore than I can think of anything which is "light like". If it is "god-like" it is probably god....if it is "light-like" it IS light. Sadly, the analogy worlks well with light, but not at all with god....er....as far as I can see (using light, of course). We do, of course, have "coherent light"...but when it comes to god, there is NO coherent question. I would end by pinning my flag to the poem rather than its intent. That is how it was written. Rarely do we (me and as far as I can ascertain, anybody else), concern ourselves with the solidity which belief once offered humanity. These days the big question is will "Take That" survive, or was it "Simply Wet", or "Red, red, red"...but like all religions, who really gives a damn. Hmmmm...perhaps that IS the big question.
Best,
tectak
(discussion forum next, methinks)

i've read this a few times and came back to read it a few more. it feels a bit preach and a bit prose and it discusses a religious point. but that said i see something in it. the main crux of the the thing is the lead up to the question which is left unanswered except to the reader. those for and against will have all the right answers as will the the not so sure's. i like that the question and god is left till the last line as questions of this magnitude should left til last lines. while i don't understand the science behind a lot of what was said, i get the drift and that was enough to make me want to take part in the poem and answer (to myself) the question posed. isn't that what poetry is meant to do at times/ to bring something to the table that everyone can take part in via their own beliefs and experiences. i think the fate line is unwarranted and makes the reader ponder a pre question (what is fate) though i suppose it does juxtapose the god question. i can't give feedback on the poem apart from saying it has enough poetic devices to make poetry ( for me a pretty decent poem) whether the science is right or wrong i like the way it's used to counter god or reinforce it/him/her/that. i did think the who in hell part was a bit too cheesy, a suggestion would be

Ah, you say, that must be god…and if not He then...

wish i could have been more help

(09-15-2014, 01:47 AM)tectak Wrote:  Whatever else we claim as ours, inside the bag that we call us,
we are more than the hydrogen that suns sublime in nuclear flame.
That simple trick of gravity combined with heat, spontaneous
and without god, makes molten  mass that but for us would have no name.

Yet here we are, named Dick and Tom, agglomerates of fusion fire
held tight together for some time, which in itself is not defined.
At best we say that we pass through, like current through a copper wire;
except, of course, electron flow is by that very path confined.

Not so the spirit loosed from  bonds; valency, like carbon digits,
grasps and grips what has no soul but lets slips through the human essence.
Moved by this strange inoculant, we live and love and fuss and fidget;
time deforms the hands that hook us, dangling over fate’s senescence.

Old age it seems is an illusion, atomic parts remain as new;
the force that binds our bits together will not hold us hale and well.
Who made this plan, this rum re-cycle…building us with such poor glue?
Ah, you say, that must be god…and if not He then who in hell?

Tectak
2014