Descartes And The Splendor Of
DESCARTES AND THE SPLENDOR OF
A Real Drama of Everyday Life.
In Six Parts.
. . .
I reject as absolutely false all opinion in which I have the least doubt.
As our senses often deceive us I assume they show us illusion, and must
reject them. As reason is subject to error, and who can offer more living
proof of that than I, I must reject the faculty or reason.
Finally I am aware that I am only completely and confindently aware of
all this rejection and doubt. This is all I can be sure of, this spinning out
of my head. HENCE I arrive at my First Fundamental Truth. I THINK
hence I AM. OR I Doubt hence I Am; or I Reject hence I am. You get
However this I is of the Mind, and wholly distinct from the Body. But
then further clear reasoning brings me to this: IN ORDER TO THINK,
IT IS NECESSARY TO EXIST. I never saw a dead man think, I never
hope to see one, but I can tell you any how, I'd rather see than Be one.
Dead men don't htink. An therefore, everything we exactly and truly
know, like THE REASONING ABOVE is because it is CLEAR AND
I realize that to doubt is a drag, and a PerFECT BEING would accept
everything. But from WHENCE DID I GET MY IDEA OF
PERFECTION!!!!! PLACED IN ME BY A NATURE, BY A NATURE
IN REALITY MORE PERFECT THAN MIND and WHICH EVEN
POSSESSES WITHIN ITSELF ALL THE PERFECTION OF WHICH
I COULD FORM ANY IDEA, that is to say, IN A SINGLE WORD,
Without this idea of the perfection of MOTHER GOD we should not exist.
Imagination is a mode of thinkin lomited to material objects. AND THE
STUFFY MIND ASSUMES IF YOU CANNOT IMAGINE, something,
IT DOES NOT EXIST. WHICH IS beside the point and off the argument
if not completely irrelevant to this text by which I am following myself
in glory and splendor. AM I A BUTTERFLY DREAMING I AM ME
or ME DREAMING I AM A BUTTERFLY or am I MOTHER GOD
in Glory and Splendor? Our ideas become confused because we are not
WHOLLY PERFECT and our razor sharp reason must be wielded at all
times to guard against ERROR, error of IMAGINATION and error of
Joanne Kyger's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Descartes And The Splendor Of by Joanne Kyger )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- Ebola Blues, Tony Adah
- Rebirth, bryan wallace
- Fate, Lonely Welshman
- For Her, Lonely Welshman
- Matthew Ch.7 V.12, bryan wallace
- Red Ceramic Poppy, John F. McCullagh
- Rainbow, SALINI NAIR
- The Color Inside My World, Mikey Bachman
- Haiku #4, Eric Micha'el Leventhal
- My Ramdan, My Repentance, Ahamad Ilyaas Vilayathullah