Composed upon an IBM Selectric III, a few lines

[Erthona]

Yes William, ”We murder to dissect.”
With each particular defined,
every object in careful retrospect,
we divide and sub-divide,
by the workings of our minds.

Every time, every minute, every second,
with our instruments we measure,
but the instrument that is not,
is the instrument most clever.
It creates the borders here,
as it sub-divides the rhyme,
shapes and colors, sights and sounds
are the limits of our mind.

Just as those who read this poem,
and who contemplate my words,
will analyze the syntax
and manipulate the verbs.


Note Bene As my last poem in this category went over so well,
I thought I would include another ancient write, which I will not specify, as the title should clue you to its age.

[billy]

whose william, for a min i thought it william babbage, then realized his name was charles babbage (is william a verb )

it's playfully done.

[Erthona]

Billy,

"it's playfully done. " Thanks.

"whose william, for a min i thought it william babbage, then realized his name was charles babbage (is william a verb )"

William is not a verb, but you may william it as such if you so choose.

William Wordsworth, he wroth the line "We murder to dissect". More or less the opinion of the Romantics towards "rationalism" or as we would call it today, "scientific determinism". As you probably know, Charles Babbage was the inventor of the difference engine, a calculating machine that was the forerunner of the modern computer. The inability of being able to make the large version work, because to use the necessary force would have sheared the mechism is used as a classic example of "a problem of scale".

Dale

Note also, in the poem below, the third from the last stanza is a bit of a slam of Milton, and his to " justify the ways of God to men." Blake had attacked this strongly in his poem "Milton".
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The Tables Turned


UP! up! my Friend, and quit your books;
Or surely you'll grow double:
Up! up! my Friend, and clear your looks;
Why all this toil and trouble?

The sun, above the mountain's head,
A freshening lustre mellow
Through all the long green fields has spread,
His first sweet evening yellow.

Books! 'tis a dull and endless strife:
Come, hear the woodland linnet,
How sweet his music! on my life,
There's more of wisdom in it.

And hark! how blithe the throstle sings!
He, too, is no mean preacher:
Come forth into the light of things,
Let Nature be your teacher.

She has a world of ready wealth,
Our minds and hearts to bless--
Spontaneous wisdom breathed by health,
Truth breathed by cheerfulness.

One impulse from a vernal wood
May teach you more of man,
Of moral evil and of good,
Than all the sages can.

Sweet is the lore which Nature brings;
Our meddling intellect
Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things:--
We murder to dissect.

Enough of Science and of Art;
Close up those barren leaves;
Come forth, and bring with you a heart
That watches and receives.

-William Wordsworth 1798 published in his Lyrical Ballads.

---

BTW This is written in common meter.

Dale

[billy]

i like replies from you because i garner things that will never leave me

we murder to dissect; being the latest. (i've asked the question thrice so far (which poet wrote...? and no takers )

[Erthona]

William Wordsworth wrote "we murder to dissect"!
William Wordsworth wrote "we murder to dissect"!
William Wordsworth wrote "we murder to dissect"!
William Wordsworth wrote "we murder to dissect"!
William Wordsworth wrote "we murder to dissect"!
William Wordsworth wrote "we murder to dissect"!
William Wordsworth wrote "we murder to dissect"!
William Wordsworth wrote "we murder to dissect"!
William Wordsworth wrote "we murder to dissect"!

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"William Wordsworth (7 April 1770 – 23 April 1850) was a major English Romantic poet who, with Samuel Taylor Coleridge, helped to launch the Romantic Age in English literature with the 1798 joint publication Lyrical Ballads.
Wordsworth's magnum opus is generally considered to be The Prelude, a semiautobiographical poem of his early years which he revised and expanded a number of times. It was posthumously titled and published, prior to which it was generally known as the poem "to Coleridge". Wordsworth was Britain's Poet Laureate from 1843 until his death in 1850."

from Wiki


Dale