What really gets my goat?

What really gets my goat?

Apart from the Brazilian goat eater

Or people that use feet as well as the millimetre

"It's six foot one way and 500 mil the other"

Oh brother

Just pick one

and be done.

Then there's tem folk who like talk

During a film or rock concert gig

They can't just stand there and dig

the tunes blasting out from the rig

Or the story being projected

Get them ejected

Before something bad happens to their feet.

I also hate meanness

Them there who take pride

In twisting others minds

to only see their side

Because even though they're wrong, they're right

Self-preservation is their fight

And claim the rights that to others they deny.

But at the end of it all

When I'm looking the ceiling

Wondering why I have these feelings

Even though I stopped believing

Something underneath me still pretends

That the world has friends

And to dream, is the only reality I like. 

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Is this a question?

Is this a question?

The legend that is the philosophy exam question to which the urban librarians claim that one student one year wrote. "If this is a Question? Then this is an answer." and got top marks. Personally I heard it as "Only if this is an answer?" Same idea, less words.

For many years, since I first heard of this interesting exploration of thought and perception I have considered many things regarding the unanswerable. Not like 'Which came first the Chicken or the Egg?' which from an evolutionary standpoint must always be the egg by definition of what constitutes a chicken. More inquiries such us: 'Is the chicken the eggs why of reproduction?'

This question has far reaching ideas that leads to reasons for reproduction. Within these thought I had the notion that the question 'Why are we here?' was some sort of genetic driving force. If we can't answer it then maybe the next generation can. This would then give a reason to procreate, the constantly push the children so that they may find the answer. But should this question ever truly be satisfied, the urge to breed would reside; there would be no point.

This led me to one conclusion: Pandas already know why we are here.

I hope you enjoy Monday's poem.

Question?
A statement to extract?

Rhetorical or fact?

A constructed situation requiring Solution?

Presentations of the choice?

A request to hear your voice?

A desperate prayer as you ask for absolution?

Please? Will you? Can I?

Stay or say Goodbye?

Three roads lay ahead one change to ride?

Is it? Are they? Won't we?

To be or not to be?

Shall I stand and shine, or cower, and hide?

Do you want to know?

What is the end of the show?

Can you still enjoy once spoilers read?

Do you believe?

Is it so hard to conceive?

What really waits for us once we are dead?

Hmmmmmmm?

Colin?

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