Whither Mankind?

My Dad was sort of a lay philosopher who used the term "whither mankind" to describe his thinking about the human condition.  He read layman's books on science and metaphysics just because they interested him; and would use that knowledge to try and find the common ground between the physical and the spiritual worlds.  He was always great fun to talk to about pretty much anything. And I sure do miss him!


QUESTIONS, QUESTIONS
Copyright 2011 by Roger B. Stone

Questions unanswered and mysteries unsolved.
Unprovable theories and facts unresolved.
Whither mankind?  Understanding one's wife?
And just what the heck IS the meaning of life?

Dilemmas like these are what prey on your mind.
You seek and you search, but no answers you find.
Quantum mechanics?  Do animals think?
Was Australopithecus really The Link?

What started it all?  Whence the whole human race?
What existed before the existence of space?
Big Bang?  Steady State?  Or divinity?
Is there really a God?  And is He a She?

So many ideas, and when you retire,
Your brain can pursue the eternal quagmire.
New issues to ponder and questions to beg.
Like which DID come first – the chick or the egg?

The Fountain of Youth

Can't remember what inspired me to riff on Einstein's famous mass-energy equivalence formula. This one's got one of my favorite words, "defenestration," in it.  But please don't hold me to the physics!

THE ULTIMATE VACATION

Copyright 2011 by Roger B. Stone

Our concept of time is subjective, you see.

(Don't ask Albert E. to deny it.)

He said, "Square MC and you're bound to get E."

With curved time and space. Do you buy it?

By squirting through wormholes and other phenomena,

At speeds that are faster than light,

You can travel the distance from here to Andromeda,

And get home by bedtime – last night!

The key to this matter is acceleration,

Thus greater velocities seek.

It's an intergalactic defenestration,

A window in time, so to speak.

If you leave here tomorrow and come back today,

You're not moving quickly enough.

The trick is to get back last week, so you borrow,

From all that primordial stuff.

If you save up the years and the months and the days,

They'll increase at a logarithmic rate.

You can lay by the pool and absorb the sun's rays,

And actually rejuvenate.

So go on a cosmic vacation each year.

Don't the travel brochures sound divine?

By taking a luxury cruise without peer,

You can always remain twenty-nine.

Baby It's Hot Outside!

The temperature today is supposed to reach 100 degrees... again, with a "heat index" of 105-110.  In honor of this sweltering summer, here's a poem I wrote several years ago during a similar heat wave. (With apologies to Edgar Allan Poe.)

IT'S NOT THE HEAT
Copyright 2011 by Roger B. Stone

Once upon a noontime sunny,

Overwhelmed by sweat a-runny,

Rolling down my brow and off my nose.

Ice-cold latté gently sipping,

(A vain attempt to stop the dripping,)

Drip, drip dripping; seeping through my clothes.

Then I spied a lovely lassie.

'Quick! Come up with something classy!'

Screamed my re-fried brain that steamy day.

But my mouth intoned stupidity,

“It’s not the heat, it’s the humidity.”

She glanced at me… and quickly walked away.

Upscale Mongering

Since my Dad also wrote poetry, our back-and-forth greeting cards often focused on the topic of, well, writing poems.  I gave him this one on Father's Day in 1995. If you've forgotten what was going on in the news that year, read on...

HOW HARD CAN IT BE?
Copyright 2011 by Roger B. Stone

How hard can it be to write a verse

That's warm or wise or witty?

For you and me it takes two secs

To pen an intelligent ditty.

So who are these guys that write the crap

That's stocking all the shelves?

They must be washed-up seasonal help

Like Santa's laid-off elves.

Say, maybe you and I should start

A business writing cards.

A highbrow venture of the mind

For two um...mortal bards.

We'd never stoop to age, or sex,

Or fishing, golf, or drinking.

We'd stick to wordly topics

So our cards would get folks thinking.

Of course it might be tricky

Using Chechnya in a rhyme.

And Bosnia-Herzegovina

Just might take a little time.

It's kinda tough, but I found a way

To make a rhyme with Cali –

But we'd need a big eruption

Or an armed revolt on Bali.

Well then, there's always Castro

and the goings-on in Cuba.

A well-constructed verse might say

That he's their...uh...Grand Poobah?

I've tried to rhyme with Clinton

But my efforts really stunk.

And when it comes to Gingrich, um...

Aw screw it - let's get drunk!

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY 1995!