Since this selection deals generally on the topic of reconciling the often adverse realms of art and science, I thought it might be interesting to actively involve ourselves in this synthesis by writing some verse of our own. I know that we have several poetically inclined members and as we read through Unweaving the Rainbow, perhaps we could take the time to actually make some art and discuss how Dawkin's ideas have influenced us.So if you like the idea, express yourselves and have fun. The point is to try it, not to be good at it. If you want, you can epitomize Dawkin's belief in the poety of science, or you can rhyme about some significant experience in your life. There's no wrong way to do it except maybe to give up without trying.Additionally, I think this thread would be a good place to post poetry (or art) that holds special relevance in your life, or that you just happen to enjoy.Hope to see your responses and remember, water drinkers don't write good verse - Horace Epistulae! =) Edited by: Timothy Schoonover at: 5/7/03 4:58:03 pm

I'll try to get things rolling with one of my favorite poems -- Dulce Et Decorum Est, by Wilfred Owen.Quote:Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,Till on the haunting flares we turned out backs,And towards our distant rest began to trudge.Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame, all blind;Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hootsOf gas-shells dropping softly behind.Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!--An ecstasy of fumblingFitting the clumsy helmets just in time,But someone still was yelling out and stumblingAnd flound'ring like a man in fire or lime.--Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.In all my dreams before my helpless sightHe plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.If in some smothering dreams, you too could paceBehind the wagon that we flung him in,And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin,If you could hear, at every jolt, the bloodCome gargling from the froth-corrupted lungsBitter as the cudOf vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--My friend, you would not tell with such high zestTo children ardent for some desperate glory,The old Lie: Dulce et decorum estPro patria mori.The latin phrase Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori is a reference from Horace's Odes which means - "It is sweet and right to die for one's country." I think it is a sobering jolt to the patriotic excesses of our present world.

TimPoetry is something I have never learned to appreciate. This thread will be helpful to me in that I really do wish to learn to understand and value this means of expression. I'm too analytical. I break poetry down in a reductionistic fashion...thus destroying its symbolism and deeper meaning. I'm working on this so bare with me!Post your favorites...Chris Edited by: Chris OConnor  at: 10/30/05 4:52 pm

Well it would be bad form to encourage you all to produce poetry without doing so myself. So I composed the following poem for this thread, and hope that some of you will try your hand at it.Quote:Sun's ShadowRelentlessly pursued through the hourglassGrain crashes into grain as I peer roundHer phoenix pace unquenched; yet cannot pass--Cannot draw near, cannot fall back, this houndSister Sisyphus, indomitable,Ever-conquered, ever-weary, she bleeds--HeroicallyBetrayed by three, that fate so treacherousBorn in the shadow of the sun, she seesCelestial globes, as old CopernicusOh precious heretic, they orbit theeSister Sisyphus, indomitable,Ever-conquered, ever-weary, she bleeds--HeroicallySo...what do you think I mean? =) Edited by: Timothy Schoonover at: 5/7/03 3:42:09 am

ChrisQuote: Poetry is something I have never learned to appreciate.Reading poetry is a lot like trying to read sheet music. Poetry never moved me until I went to a poetry reading (ok, I admit it: I had the hots for the lass who was reading and NO interest in cummings at the time). I have loved e.e. cummings ever since. We are taught in elementary school not to speak or move our lips when we read. This is fine for prose but not so good for poetry. I recommend always reading poetry aloud (softly if you are in the library).BTW, Timothy, GREAT idea!

Brings to my mind the black hole at the center of our galaxy

Oh Tim, I very much wish I could contribute to this thread, but all of my creative efforts along this line turn into vogon poetry or star trek haiku.Doesn't mean I don't enjoy reading the work of others though.Lynne

Wow Jeremy, I like that interpretation a lot - almost more than my own. If I changed the line, "Betrayed by three" to "Betrayed by four," to symbolize the Unified Field Theory (is that what its called), you be DEAD on.That is interesting. I've always heard and read about the multivalency of poetry, but until now I've never experienced how dynamic it could be.LynneI would be destroyed if you didn't share your poetry, even if it is vogon or star trek haiku. There is often a lot of emphasis placed upon the distinction between 'high art' and 'low art,' but, in my opinion, it is not so much the form, subject, or even skillful construction that is important, but rather its expressiveness. Pour your soul into a haiku, and let the world be damned. Edited by: Timothy Schoonover at: 5/7/03 12:16:32 pm

You do not know what you're asking for. We had a conversational thread once that was nothing but physics haiku. Grimaces all around... Yeah, but it was fun. Beam me upBarcley pouts.Scattered dots of lightCertainty?And there you go. My only contribution. Star Trek haiku.:snicker:Lynne

Allow me to retort. Hurray for brave LynnePing Koy Lam's let there be lightBut who is Barcley?