Whiskey/Materialism | Carlyle R. Phelps

Whiskey

It’s like amber, maybe fire
A nectar, perhaps ambrosia,
Transfixed or reduced to vapor—
Burning and yet wetting my lips.

Materialism

Matter is trapped within a closed loop.
The system is an unrepresented defendant.
‘S No first principle found in primordial goop—
Slyly suggesting an outside transcendent.

The mind is smaller than the nous,
And it’s unable to contain consciousness.
Witty arguments are of little use
Within the paradox of energy’s endlessness.

Experience belies self’s reduction to a brain—
Electric currents somehow becoming love?
Only Uncreated Energies could sustain
The unmeasurable substance of resolve.

If you are no more than looped goop in a contained brain,
There is no basis for me to heed your retort or refrain.

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