Monthly Archives: August 2017

CCIV

Wordsworth wrote an endless poem in blank verse on” the growth of a poet’s mind.”  I shall attempt a more modest feat for a more distracted age: a blog, “Things which a Lifetime of Trying to Be a Poet has Taught Me.”

More of my history of philosophy in limericks.  You’re welcome.

THE PRESOCRATICS

Limericks # 26-30

 

Men once thought that it would be nice

To step in the same river twice.

But then Heraclitus

As if just to spite us

Said, “No!  Once will have to suffice.”

Heraklitus

“The water is flowing away;

The new that arrives does not stay.

Therefore, my conclusion:

All else is illusion.

There is Change; that is all we can say.”

 

Parmenides answered, “Not so!

The stream doth eternally flow.

What is permanent’s real;

So, whatever you feel,

There’s no motion and no place to go.”

 

He went on, “Heraclitus, you dunce,

Why attempt such ridiculous stunts?

With no motion or change,

You can’t even arrange

To step in the first river once.”

Parmenides

Is the world all in flux or immutable?

The answers both seemed irrefutable.

But while they were debating,

Some children went wading,

Once–twice–and it seemed somewhat suitable.

Remember: for more poetry like this, go to https://lanternhollow.wordpress.com/store/ and order Stars Through the Clouds! Also look for Inklings of Reality and Reflections from Plato’s Cave, Williams’ newest books from Lantern Hollow Press: Evangelical essays in pursuit of Truth, Goodness, and Beauty.  And look for Williams’ very latest book, Deeper Magic: The Theology behind the Writings of C. S. Lewis, from Square Halo Books!

Donald T. Williams, PhD

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CCIII

 Wordsworth wrote an endless poem in blank verse on” the growth of a poet’s mind.”  I shall attempt a more modest feat for a more distracted age: a blog, “Things which a Lifetime of Trying to Be a Poet has Taught Me.”

What actually happened on the Day of Pentecost?  And how does it relate to modern phenomena that go by the same name?  Not exactly what you might expect.

PENTECOST

(Compared with Later Imitations)

 

Stronger than a hawk, the Dove

Swept by, and in the eddies of

His passing, tongues of flame were fanned

And men fell to the ground unmanned.

They stuttered as their wits were lost

And thought it a new Pentecost:

The merely inarticulate sigh

Of His furious passing by.

 

But when He stopped to build His nest

First in the Apostolic breast,

A different language was expressed

In fit words, honed and well disposed;

Those were not drunk as men supposed,

But spoke real tongues they had not learned:

Thus the true tongues of fire burned.

Men heard about their sins and grieved;

They heard the Gospel and believed,

For each one heard of Jesus’ blood

In his own tongue—and understood.

 

Does that Dove’s nesting in the heart

Drive it and the mind apart?

Never!  Rather, say He brings

The two together ‘neath His wings.

The mind alert was not the cost

Of the primal Pentecost,

Where true wit was not lost, but gained

When the showers of blessing rained.

Remember: for more poetry like this, go to https://lanternhollow.wordpress.com/store/ and order Stars Through the Clouds! Also look for Inklings of Reality and Reflections from Plato’s Cave, Williams’ newest books from Lantern Hollow Press: Evangelical essays in pursuit of Truth, Goodness, and Beauty.  And look for Williams’ very latest book, Deeper Magic: The Theology behind the Writings of C. S. Lewis, from Square Halo Books!

Donald T. Williams, PhD

CCII

Wordsworth wrote an endless poem in blank verse on” the growth of a poet’s mind.”  I shall attempt a more modest feat for a more distracted age: a blog, “Things which a Lifetime of Trying to Be a Poet has Taught Me.”

Jim Kilgo was a professor of American Literature at the University of Georgia when I was doing my doctorate there back in the 1970s.  I never had a class with him, but we bonded as fellow Christians.  We had other reasons too.  I miss that man.

KILGO

We never did get to the woods together.

We’d meet up in his air-conditioned office

From time to time to swap a tale or two.

He’d find a chair beneath a pile of papers

For me, beneath a pile of books for him,

And we’d lament the state of education

And then get on to more important things:

How quiet dawn is in a river swamp,

How sharp the wind blows over Albert’s Mountain,

The steam a plate of grits makes on a table

When frost is on the sedge outside the window,

The best last lines in all of literature

(They must be Izaak Walton’s Life of Donne

And then “The Life and Death of Cousin Lucius”).

We’d quote from C.S. Lewis, Tolkien, Faulkner,

Or Robert Frost, or Flannery O’Connor;

We loved the words that named the things we loved.

We even tried some naming of our own–

He’d read his stories, and I’d read my poems,

Testing lines like newly mounted axe-heads

For balance and a clean and compact stroke:

The different rhythm life has on the trail–

I said, “Three days away from clocks you feel it”;

The trout he caught high in a mountain stream

In pools between the rapids and the falls–

“No gift comes cleaner from the hand of God.”

His book was Deep Enough for Ivorybills.

He meant woodpeckers in a cypress swamp;

I take it and apply it to his soul.

We love the words that name the things we love,

And one among the cleaner strokes is “Jim.”

Photo credit: David Hodges

Remember: for more poetry like this, go to https://lanternhollow.wordpress.com/store/ and order Stars Through the Clouds! Also look for Inklings of Reality and Reflections from Plato’s Cave, Williams’ newest books from Lantern Hollow Press: Evangelical essays in pursuit of Truth, Goodness, and Beauty.  And look for Williams’ very latest book, Deeper Magic: The Theology behind the Writings of C. S. Lewis, from Square Halo Books!

Donald T. Williams, PhD

CCI

Wordsworth wrote an endless poem in blank verse on” the growth of a poet’s mind.”  I shall attempt a more modest feat for a more distracted age: a blog, “Things which a Lifetime of Trying to Be a Poet has Taught Me.”

One of my pet projects is to write a complete history of philosophy in limericks.  Why?  Because I can.  But don’t worry, this is only one chapter.

SOME SKETCHES FROM THE HISTORY OF MODERN PHILOSOPHY

Limericks # 20-25

 

If a tree in the forest falls down

When no one with ears is around,

Though it crashes like thunder,

Philosophers wonder

Whether there’s really a sound.

 

Or else, when you exit a room,

Is it logical then to presume

That the Table or Chair

That you left is still there

Until your sensations resume?

Bishop Berkeley

Bishop Berkeley set briskly about

Proving beyond any doubt

That the Table and Chair

Were really still there:

God still saw them when you had gone out!

 

Dr. Johnson kicked stones and said, “Thus

I refute this ridiculous fuss!

They may think I’m dense,

But I’ve got Common Sense.”

He was surely an ornery cuss.

Dr. Samuel Johnson

Do you think we have learned any more

Than our ancestors knew back before?

Now the Chair and the Table

Are only a fable;

The Room has a lock on the door.

 

Deconstruction has buried the key

In the depths of the Post-Modern sea.

So we all stand around

Or we sit on the ground,

And we call it the freedom to be.

 

Remember: for more poetry like this, go to https://lanternhollow.wordpress.com/store/ and order Stars Through the Clouds! Also look for Inklings of Reality and Reflections from Plato’s Cave, Williams’ newest books from Lantern Hollow Press: Evangelical essays in pursuit of Truth, Goodness, and Beauty.  And look for Williams’ very latest book, Deeper Magic: The Theology behind the Writings of C. S. Lewis, from Square Halo Books!

Donald T. Williams, PhD

CC

Wordsworth wrote an endless poem in blank verse on” the growth of a poet’s mind.”  I shall attempt a more modest feat for a more distracted age: a blog, “Things which a Lifetime of Trying to Be a Poet has Taught Me.”

This poem is what is known as a curtal (or curtailed) sonnet—six and five lines instead the standard of eight and six of the Petrarchan form.  Hopkins used it for “Pied Beauty.”  But I’ve gone one step further and scrunched it some more: trimeter and dimeter instead of iambic pentameter.  One hopes that from compression comes power.  Let’s see.

DESTINY

(Commentary, Eph. 1:3, etc.)

 

As basic as breath,

As lucid as love,

A lyrical light;

Despoiler of Death,

He derives from the Dove

Celebration of sight.

 

The grain in the board,

The hand in the glove,

The star in the night:

The saint in the Lord

Shining bright.

Remember: for more poetry like this, go to https://lanternhollow.wordpress.com/store/ and order Stars Through the Clouds! Also look for Inklings of Reality and Reflections from Plato’s Cave, Williams’ newest books from Lantern Hollow Press: Evangelical essays in pursuit of Truth, Goodness, and Beauty.  And look for Williams’ very latest book, Deeper Magic: The Theology behind the Writings of C. S. Lewis, from Square Halo Books!

Donald T. Williams, PhD