Poetry by John Kirkwood
- 2630 Pettit Road
- Pennsauken NJ 08109 1 November 1989
- Mr Johnathan Newcombe, President
- Professional Services
- 440 Sylvan Avenue
- Englewood Cliffs, NJ 07632
Dear Mr. Newcombe,
I recently received some cards to mail out to various publishers
of text books as part of a mass mailing. I was urged to send to you a
card with a preprinted message damning the teaching of any alternate
thought to the theory of evolution.
Since a good theory will fit and explain most if not all of the
observed data to which the theory applies, the theory of evolution
does not stand up to scrutiny as even a moderately good theory. A
simple example will serve to illuminate the flawed thinking patterns
in the theory of accidental and chance evolution.
There is, in true science, a postulation so well founded and
carefully tested that it is called the principle of entropy. This is
the postulation that every complex construction or system will, if
left untended, become less and less complex as time progresses. A
house of cards becomes a pile, a sand castle on the shore becomes
beach, not the other way around.
With this principle in mind, let us look in on the evolutionist at
work in the field.
"I have in my hand a small item of flint that seems to have been
created by an intelligent being. The shape of the whole is purposeful
and the working of the edges shows fine evenly spaced chips producing
a carefully crafted tool. The workmanship and the product was no
accident. It therefore is unmistakeably of human origin. However, I
conclude that accidental evolution produced the tool's human
If this is the scientific thought being taught in our schools, we
indeed, as the card I was asked to sign stated, "... cannot afford
yet another generation of students unable to distinguish between
science and dogma." whether it be the one dogmatic extreme or the
I personally ask you to publish ideas and inspirations that urge
and entice the science student to think and discover the truth,
whatever it may be. We need more young scientists who can reason from
the evidence to clever flexible ideas that withstand the rigors of
We may or may not be thought of as the product of an evolutionary
process. However, we are certainly no accident.
- Wishing us all the very best in books,
- And to you the wisdom to choose them,
- John M. Kirkwood
- Ergonomics Engineer
- General Electric Co.
- Down on the ocean edge
- A green tide is sighing
- Whispering tenderly
- caressing the sand;
- Shimmering, motioning,
- beckoning me.
- My thoughts are there often,
- And often my heart,
- There with the seagulls
- whose flapping and cries
- Seem to be saying
- "Rejoice we are free."
- The seaside is laughing
- and shouting to me.
- Flee to its heartbeat,
- Bound into the sea.
- joy is mine always
- when there I can be.
- With each cool murmur
- with each subtle laugh,
- The seaside is joyfully
- calling to me.
Soft White Feet
- The snow drifts down
- On soft white feet.
- Slows, then waits, still
- Drifts, drifts on.
- White sheets slanting
- Across my window pane.
- Halt, turn, and lightly
- Drift, drift on.
- Cold silent forms
- Erase the window sill .
- Stirred by winter's breath, they
- Drift, drift on.
- Falling, drifting, slanting
- From heaven's heights
- Fleeting frozen patterns
- Drift, drift, on.
- Sighing softly,
- She stood,
- In the Twilight.
- Her beautiful outstretched arms
- Swayed gracefully, tenderly
- In the caress of a soft breeze.
- Snow nestled in her fingers,
- Dressed her in peaceful splendor
- And sparkled silently on her
- In the chill of the gathering
- I stopped and gazed in breathless
- And time stopped with me,
- Halted so that we,
- The tree and I,
- Might exchange our feelings thought for
- I watched,
- Lost in an eternity,
- Yet caught in the flight of time.
- A sunset,
- A shimmer,
- A gleam, Then it's past.
- A twinkle,
- A glimmer,
- The night's here at last.
- A night
- Like an
- With gold dust afloat,
- Or fireflies
- An old castle moat.
- The moon
- Makes its
- A silvery glance.
- A knight
- In his
- And preceding lance.
- A drama
- of beauty
- In wonderful light.
- This is
- Awe inspiring night.
- The weather seems as though
- It were a curse upon the land;
- Torrential rain and hail stones
- Piling up on either hand.
- The clouds are gloomy gray
- And the rain comes down in sheets,
- Making rushing, gushing rivers
- In the gutters of the streets.
- The torrents seem to thin.
- The sky turns from gray to blue.
- An awful storm is over.
- The sun is breaking through.