Anthropic Principle

Given we must live by starlight

We should expect our sun is yellow,

And liquid water must be flowing

On the surface of our planet.

Given that the earth must rotate

The sun is low on the horizon

And the light is soft and golden.

The way she sits beside the river

Reminds him of a pose in painting,

But she only sits that way because

It is the more comfortable position.

The golden evening mystifies

The shadowed landscape of her face,

But it is that play of light and shade

That conjures moods of mystery.

She stares into the creek, but it is not

The subject of her contemplation,

And the thoughts that have becalmed her

Are such to be expected

Of a lovelorn teenage girl,

Just as it is to be expected

That our chemistry is based on carbon

And that water is our solvent.

All we see is to be expected

Given the initial conditions. 

Reviews

[SkinlessFrank]

This is a wonderful piece, rich in thought and ideas. On one hand, we have your closing line, which if one is a cynic or depressive might tell one, "why bother thinking about anything, it's all foreordained". On the other hand though, we have the magic embodied in the anthropic principle, how one small Big Bang occurring in the just the right universe has led (continues to lead) to all that beauty, ugliness, love, hate, boredom, and so on and so on. There is a grandeur in that alone, something to marvel about, as you suggest.

[Casey Truax]

That is certainly an angle I was going for. Thank you.

[Eilis]

I noticed in your ice cream parlor poem as well that you like to play with ideas in unexpected ways. It’s like someone expects a certain subject to be addressed in one of the customary ways but you remind that it’s the artist’s and poet’s job to teach how the world might alternatively be seen. Is grieving sometimes a set of steps we take because they are expected. Is the girl that enamors the watcher from afar probably thinking about her laundry rather than the great philosophical questions of life. Maybe yes to both. And poetry is a great medium for making philosophy also art. I always think of Camus as a favorite word artist, but also his mind was this magnificent contemplator of these enormous human question. And often the crux of his findings was that meaning rests within the self. I sort of feel your poetry saying this. Like we are searching and building these mind castles hoping for everything to bloom out in grandness but life shows us we are just often slogging through because that is what keeps the wheel turning. Not every thought is a grand one. Not every thing of beauty has in back of it some mythic explanation. Many things just are because they are the cog that keeps the factory moving. But that doesn’t necessarily decrease their value. Perhaps finding value in the intricacies of the mundane is a kind of step toward a worldly enlightenment. Learning that not all things are grand and mythic is a great lesson of its own. I really like your poems. Whether my interpretation is my mad ramblings or something akin to your intention I’m not sure. But I did enjoy thinking about the questions. Or maybe the non-questions, I could say.

[Casey Truax]

I may have finally someone here on the same wavelength. We will have much more to read from one another.

[Zoe Richardson]

So love is a science experiment? I thought it was hormones!

[Chris Shaw]

Teenage love, you took me back in time. Beautiful wistful poetry. I loved the ambience you created of this girl by the river on a golden evening, with all that lovely imagery while she was dreaming elsewhere, probably oblivious to her surroundings. Very nicely conveyed.

Chris

[Shelley Warner]

I like the phrase "Given that we must live by starlight". It's a poetic image of the "lovelorn teenage girl"