I
I sit here among the books of knowledge.
Working on some pointless task.
Mind and brain not in sync;
Drifting indeed from point to point.
II
Reading famous names, Cicero, and Pascal.
On these volumes dusty and leather-bound.
What knowledge they contain; I cannot say.
Years have gone, and here they are.
III
Unopened they have languished here;
Decades have come and gone.
Digital world and knowledge on demand.
The yellowing pages, the mark of decay.
IV
Dead wisdom of Plato and Lucretius;
Upanishads and plays of Sophocles.
Existentialism of Jean Paul Sartre;
The list is long, and the dust is thick.
V
Sitting among the poets and philosophers;
Once dominated brightest human minds.
I ponder over theses thoughts as useless
As the volumes on the library's walls.
VI
Empty mind playing with my Bayesian brain;*
Creating these inter operative prediction errors,
I am only struggling to solve own puzzle;
One that boredom has spawned.
*The Bayesian brain refers to brain function that investgates the capacity of our nervous system to operate in situations of uncertainity. Reff.-Wikipeia.
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Author Notes
Oft in a pensive mood mind wonders and takes us into uncharted waters of random thoughts. This poem is one such voyage.
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