Biography of Nathan Coppedge
QUOTES AND POEMS BY NATHAN COPPEDGE
Nathan Coppedge is a philosopher, artist, inventor, and poet who lives in New Haven, CT. He is previously the author of dozens of books, including texts about his unique contributions to perpetual motion engineering and coherentist philosophy. His poetry and artwork has appeared in the small-print publication THESE Magazine, and his own self-printed 'chapbook' collection, called Inverse Threads (2004) .
I am one of two sons of divorced parents. My father is a political scientist with a Yale PhD, and my mother is a college valedictorian, homemaker and nurse with a BA in history. Other members of the family have been interested in computer programming and midwifery, and both my grandfathers are engineers.
Although I am equally interested in many other areas, poetically I am an Urban Romantic, modern with classical roots. I'm influenced by Roethke's theory of stressed syllables, Dickinson's energetic abstraction, Coleridge's 'sense' for sentences, and Blake's imagery. I have published widely, including the poetry books listed below. I also have been quoted in Book Forum and the Hartford Courant in relation to philosophy, and I am a member of the International Honor Society for Philosophy.
I have a wide variety of quotes which may be more famous than my poetry, so one option is to view the quotes page.
I also recommend visiting nathancoppedge.com to view my perpetual motion webpage and a wider selection of publications.
Nathan Coppedge's Works:
The Old Incantations: or, Sorcery in the Dark (2014)
Poems by God (2014)
Creeping Cadence and Cadence Continues (2013)
Inverse Threads (2004,2005)
Nathan Coppedge Poems
God In The Box
The only problem is, we don't know. Everything else can be determined. Good things in life = good god. Bad things = bad god.
I stopped calling things eachother long before I knew I’d found a way between the walls where I could always go—
There's Only A Handful Of Forms (Song/ P...
There’s only a handful of forms In the moonlight kept all in tether The people laugh and they shake their heads They ask me about the weather
A song for every avenue? A desert where the rain-cloud comes A parched land where no needle hides A harsh land where seeds are buried
Do Not Follow In The Footsteps
Do not follow in the footsteps of the master, master His garden is no humble pasture-
Under the preponderant clouds wishing mist on the outskirts of cities The crowd roves and raves Speaking with the hearts of dead men
crooked finger, stalling star light of bottoms, branching bear the fullest approbation of the far where yet it hurries on the near
I’ve known lust since I was born for pangs that carry on the air— droplet notes and woman-song— deeply sugars for the just-begun.
Grudge Of The Universe
A box of tissues is soaked through A pink hand written, unbesmirched by any deeply blue
Where No Crow Flies
Like a lark in a cage —Like a shot Between the eyes— Where an old woman dies
He Assesses This, A Work Of War
Planches of starlight, creases of fear Worry the lost, teach the year Press the cost, preach the air Formula lost, year to year
A Cubic Wood (A Longer Poem)
... Suffice a cubic wood a step beyond less real the moment all itself
To humans, things fall in pairs This supplies an order to the world Supplanting what we most desired Supplanting God’s symmetrical absurd
My Greatness Poem
The commissioned road widens / As though paved by gold
A song for every avenue?
A desert where the rain-cloud comes
A parched land where no needle hides
A harsh land where seeds are buried
And nomad goes.
By harsh lands where no needle hides
By rusty ocean-sides