Philosophical epistemology strumming adventures
Albeit, coherent mental decoding stratifications structured
Supposedly our world rests in our minds, revolving knowledge
An entwine of conceptual abstract flowing within oneself
The mind in the “I” the “I” a reality lived in my experiences
George of Leontini, a mine mind approving solipsism exploring innatism
Imaginative insights that nothing exists, the secrets secreting secrets
The knowledge behind the veils that remains un-communicated
A reverse of normality and known existences, moral disposition
Hypothesis of depersonalizations, adventures of self internalization
Justifications for what lies outside the Medulla Oblongata
Skepticism and just alternatives to western philosophy
Subjective unapproved experiences only robust in one’s mind
Descartes abstraction of inner experiences, reciprocated paradigm
Intuitively, perceived lived formulations of "Cogito Ergo Sum"
Psychological conscious undoubted individualistic thoughts
Berkley explored perspectives that physicality is an embodiment of the mind
The mind a decoding visualizer, that encompass the non-existent
An idealism marriage of ‘metaphysical’ and epistemological philosophy
The intense esoteric “dualism” verses the fiery “monism” reality
Mind boggling differentiated truths bleeding with blinking unresolvable hypothesis
The jiggered methodological, streamlining the un -logic sequential beats

Within the four walls
Below a roof
Busy with play of words
The poet is aloof.

The sky is breaking low
Pitter patter rain
Capture they must the flow
Of drizzles soothing pain.

Outside on a stretch of green
Drenched to the bone
A man with cracking skin
Hoeing from morn.

The toiler is tasked to ****
Paid by the hour
Must earn the precious quid
Whatever the shower.

The poet is lost in the toil
To grow his rhyme in shower
The **** works fast the soil
Growing hope by the hour.

Knowledge, is not always wisdom.

Wisdom, is not always knowledge.

Strength, is not always shown through muscle mass.

Muscle mass, is not always shown through strength.

Love, is not always kindness.

Kindness, is not always love.

Changing our point of view, helps produce a clean perception.

Be humble enough to notice when our point of view is breaking.

Changing is not giving up, it's simply adjusting.

We are but two roses in the same vase
sharing the same water
same light,
but our leaves never again touching.
You've grown colder
we've grown apart
separated yet together dying.

Tell me, why do we, roses, die so easily?

Our scents fading,
but our thorns getting sharper
in a world where all the flowers bloom
we are the ones to be wilting.

Tell me, why does the moonlight darken our colours?

I know
I will love you with all my thorns
and with my fading shades
until the last petal will fall
until the sun upon me
will stop shining.

*Tell me, why is there blood on your thorns
and why is my heart leaking?

What if I told you I was dead inside?
That when I fall asleep, I feel the need to hide.
Hide from all the shadows that lurk around my bed.
Shield myself from voices swirling in my head.

What if I told you my life was stolen?
Had only I been miscarried while her belly was swollen.
I was never child. I had never had the chance.
But I keep telling myself, "All you can do is dance."

What if I told you I used to stay locked inside a room?
To avoid what's called a family as their presence would loom.
To hide in the bathroom after dinner almost every night.
Because every meal, offered a fight.

What if I told you the bathroom floor is my home?
The only safe place. Better off alone.
Hot water and porcelain friends.
It's the only place my pain ends.

What if I told you of blood soaked wings?
You wouldn't understand any of these things.
Maybe I'm crazy. I guess it's okay.
I never had hope you could stay.

There is a weariness of fairy tales
A magical desire to just surrender
To sleep dark and seamless space
And let the gaze follow the black

Shifting sand with nothing to hold
Onto,dust falling through fingertips
The gap in the curtains showing the
Black dog the way to a saddened soul

Smooth sea that never made a sailor
Years of education that never taught
How to love yourself or have dignity
Or how to nurture with open hearts

A child's high voice sounding like
A spash of pennies falling together
A life waylaid by regret drowning
In shadows,untruths and uncertainty