A thousand ptolemies
lie dormant in my breast
comfortable false conjectures
that conveniently fit the facts
universes so reasonable
and yet so wrong
at their heart.
Where is my observatory?
How shall I perceive it?
How can I know what is real?
O Show me the true center of things
and show me the real order of living
and let my ptolemies
be left in their medieval dungeons
where they belong.
6 comments:
Such imaginative, poetic rationalism! I wonder if sleeping Ptolemies dream? And if they do, can those in whose breasts they reside sense the content of those dreams, see ptolomaic visions from the underworld of their own souls?
Nicely done, Jim.
Cool Jim, you made me look up the definition of ptolemies. Do you use that word frequently? ;)
Enjoyed the read...
...rob
Moonfall
nicely done...and how did you come up with that words I use all the time...don't BELIEVE that...thanks for sharing this
I REALLY appreciate these comments! I don't use ptolemy all that frequently, but it is a perfect metaphor for what I was thinking about. I have always been interested in cosmology and astronomy, so since an early age I was familiar with ptolemaic cosmologies vs. the copernican system. I don't know how I came up with it, it just came. Thanks again for the comments!
Oh, if we only knew! Well posed. BTW, thank you for the comment on 'Silent Water'.
It takes me to the core of what I have always wondered. Thankd for sharing.
Pamela
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