On being a philosopher. Gordon J.L. Ramel


Let us go out into the wilderness together
like thinkers searching foreign land for a new idea,
like deer-hounds straining at the restricting tether,
our blood hot with the tangy smell of the running deer.

Let us ride through the desert of our understanding
through the tiers and teethering tower-blocks of books
that cry and gape and leer at passers by demanding
a meal of consciousness and time from their serried nooks.

Let us raise the paltry sails of our resplandencent ignorance
before the shifting winds of unknown probabilities
beneath the aging sun of our metaphysical romance
and dance the dance of unseen possibilities.

Here and now on the new horizons of complexity
we can extemporize like scientists searching the long night
for new thoughts, for fresh concepts to feed the ancient city
of our minds, now drowsing in the shadows of eclectic light.

Let us stand on the hazy windswept cliffs of truth
and cast our paper boats into perception’s raging, dizzy sea
with the ardor and the confidence of eternal youth,
and let us call the answers that come back Philosophy.


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