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in pursuit of happiness aristotle said we seek happiness and of course he's right but what does god seek, having made us in this so the mystics with their human brains said god is happiness, since this is something less (for the inconsistency rattled around in the skull) then the philosphers (the pillow-cased rattle remaining) said Father is dead and me and thee (approximating we) realizing the bills would not be paid realizing the pain would not be soothed consciously put two different hands into two left gloves and shoveled (or at least you did) while weeping into the darkness. |
This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2014-07-06 10:34:55
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
I’ve given great consideration to most the philosophers, including Francis Schaeffer, C. S. Lewis, Saint Francis of Assisi, and the John Powell. (These are my four most inspiring).
I remember reading (long ago) all the books by Basilea Schlink, and my hero Dietrich Bonhoeffer, in the end there happiness was a peace of spirit and steadfastness. It is inspiring, though I have never been able to sustain such dedication.
Of the modus operandi being an ill fit; I have great ambivalence about the entire ambiguity. I do know this, regardless of the fit, left or right or right to left, or inconsistent metaphors
The bad guys will be bad, and the good guys will try to be good, and the rest of it all is a reaction to the issues of both
You make cogent analysis; but I think, aside- you are closer to the truth in speaking of the droll, everyday existence. For most people, happiness would be nothing more than not having to worry about it all, the bad are happy when bad, the good are anxious when not good, and the rest of us manage. Happiness being, as you prescribe; a state of mind.