Category Archives: Peter’s Writings

Things Peter writes for his own benefit, not necessarily intended for or made available to the general public.

The Modern Moral Compass

While our country remains untainted with the principles and manners which are now producing desolation in so many parts of the world; while she continues sincere, and incapable of insidious and impious policy, we shall have the strongest reason to rejoice in the local destination assigned us by Providence. But should the people of America once become capable of that deep simulation towards one another, and towards foreign nations, which assumes the language of justice and moderation while it is practising iniquity and extravagance, and displays in the most captivating manner the charming pictures of candor, frankness, and sincerity, while
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Quote of the Day

While scanning a news site I ran across an article talking about a collection of letters Albert Einstein had written.   One of the topics reportedly addressed in the letters frequently was Einstein’s thoughts on God.  One section quoted struck me:

I prefer an attitude of humility corresponding to the weakness of our intellectual understanding of nature and of our own being.
-Albert Einstein

While I don’t agree with Einsteins thoughts on the childishness of believing in a personal God (contained in a section of the quote I omitted here), I think his reasoning is something the rest of the world … Read the rest

Failure – The Forcing Function

‘Some conjurers say that number three is the magic number, and some say number seven. It’s neither, my friend, neither. It’s number one…  Only to show you my meaning clearly,’ said the Jew, raising his eyebrows. ‘To [secure your own prosperity], you depend upon me. To keep my little business all snug, I depend upon you. The first is your number one, the second my number one. The more you value your number one, the more careful you must be of mine; so we come at last to what I told you at first—that a regard for number one holds
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Worthless Sleep

Most people are familiar with restless sleep where the night is constantly interrupted by one thing, another, or nothing in particular.  Short periods of unconsciousness are only randomly interspersed throughout the night and insufficient to guarantee a reasonably wakeful and rested morning.  Over the years I’ve dealt with the effects and side-effects of this kind of sleep deprivation.  It would creep up on me frequently during periods of high stress such as points in my graduate studies when my mind would refuse to wind-down for the night and keep me up until I got out of bed and worked through … Read the rest

Poetry is for sissies and the lost DVD

It’s been a while since I wrote anything about the family…  It seems I’ve been on a poetry bender for the last several months, and have left the more weighty matters to moulder.  I can’t for the life of me understand why it is that I feel inclined to make up silly rhymes to go with stupid pictures, but I guess I find it somewhat therapeutic to pull myself away from the world of analytical and sterile language that dominates my days at work.  Unfortunately, that probably means that the three or so family members who have ever read this … Read the rest

Rain

A graying sky comes pressing on
It's twilight at noon day
Air's heavy since the early dawn
Seems a storm is on it's way.

A distant rumble passes by
The horses snort and stomp
A sudden flash lights up the sky
My outside work must stop.

In the barn a drum beat starts
Quick tapping on tin roof
A yearling kid now jumps and darts
Beats dirt under her hoof.

The tapping turns into a roar
Explosions shake the walls
Howling winds pound on the door
The roof makes water falls.

A thirsty earth gapes wide the mouth
To drink 
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Pray for Rain

'Mid searing heat we pray for rain
And hope for cloudy skies
To wet the earth and cool the air
Make shade for squinting eyes

Withered plants cry out for damp
And wilt in summer's heat
On cracking earth with fissures wide 
Growth turned in fast retreat

Dust and sun and baking winds
Blow grit in eye and ear
Peeling skin and cracking hands
Pray that rain is near

The Elephant

Acknowledged but unspoken,
Sitting heavy in this space,
A weight on every shoulder,
Tensile strain in every face.

It's name must not be sounded,
Nor its presence e'en confirmed,
It's substance flat discounted,
It's existence not affirmed.

If aired, the thoughts and feelings,
Formed about the ugly beast,
Would stir it from a slumber,
Then it on my peace would feast.

So better to ignore it now,
accept the stagnant stink,
Give up what was my breathing room,
Turn off my will to think.

Confine myself to smaller space,
Be glad I have some left,
Then hope it won't demand 
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Dawdling

How is it that they cannot walk,
When slower speed is wanted,
Can play all day and jump and climb,
On into night undaunted. 

Bounding to and fro with mirth,
While chasing wind and rain,
Grubbing, digging, wrestling too,
Impervious to pain.

But task them with some simple thing,
Then comes a sudden crash,
Aching backs and swollen tongues,
With joint-pain and a rash.

Bathroom breaks that take an hour,
Drinks that last all day,
Just anything to slow the pace, 
Because it isn't play.

Grinding

There is a kind of tired,
That resting can't assuage,
Not caused by sweat and labor,
Nor a product of great age.

Oft it creeps in slowly,
Caused by labors of the mind,
When truths compete as valid,
But no resolution find.

They grind against each other,
Then life adds in some grit,
Of reason, hope and longing,
That block and warp the fit;

Which erstwhile might be forming,
Were the process left alone,
To smooth the roughened edges,
Like a knife against the hone.

And form a polished surface,
Where the two can both reside,
Supporting one another, 
Standing 
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