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 Jul 2017 Paul Jones
Piotr Sordyl
River's flow
Steadily passing,
Like human beauty.
 Jul 2017 Paul Jones
Autumn Rose
On a crystal breeze,
across the forest lake about to freeze,
On silver bells someone plays my melody
Hear it and again you shall remember me
along with memories forgotten long ago
and a song you once used to know
as warm as a dying ember
glowing on a night of December ...
How can I not dream big
In this lackluster life of mine?
Overwhelming fear forces my hand
To play against any notion that this is it.
An artist, a writer,
A musician, a scientist
I'll take anything to get me out
Away from this life that is so called Mine.
To finally get the chance at an exhale
And have it not be my dying breath
I have to do something
Why must dreams only exist in my sleep?
I have to wake up.
I have to live.
"What is beautiful?" Aristotle did say,
"What is a question, anyway?"
"Why ask questions?" Ask Socrates,
"We ask questions, to need to know,
Because we're all human, you know,
Brains overthinking on the go,
"So, what would you call beautiful?" I ask,
The philosophers debate this task,
To love learning, I guess,
That's one answer to their quest,
Or to love wisdom and learning,
For answers we're all yearning,
"What is beautiful?" Aristotle did say,
"What is a question, anyway?"
Feedback welcome.
Let dos and don'ts prevail
Where man cannot decide,
Remove the uncertainty veil
And put instincts aside

And build a concrete fence
Between all right and wrong
For the sake of social rules and hence
For the sake of pitiful us all.

And let us grow less human,
Robotically designed,
With obvious solutions,
Uncertainties consigned...

Show me the spine of morality
And give me a choice to make
For who am I, if not a gambler
Playing on fine ethics edge?
After a long day of debates on morality. A recall of an inner monologue from a few years ago. Opinion refined, arguments sharpened, but basically... having the same first thoughts.
Life to me is a game. The day your parents give birth to you, your attributes, looks, social status are given. As you get older, you realize that each and everything matters to you. Money, education, relationships, your emotional well-being. So you try your best to gain recognition and appreciation. Basically like those game achievements. Each choice leads to a certain consequence. It’s up to you to decide on creating a better character or remain the same. In the end, the game (our existence) will come to it’s final chapter. It will be passed on to many generations. Hopefully the existing files (your kids, if you plan on making them) will keep you not only in their minds, but in their hard drives (hearts). If there is an afterlife, I hope we will rest in peace and see each other there.
I am. And this awaken shudder
falling on the sands of unseen hourglasses
is precious in itself.

We are flowing, both you and I,
on these sand waves,
worn by dust, from world to world.

we are tasted by rain and feelings
with the appetite of a butterfly
recently freed from its chrysalis.

oh, we are! us, two strangers,
in perpetual metamorphosis,
forever oscillating between all and nothing.
Another philosophical cogitation, naïvely constructed in both my maternal and adopted language. Below the Romanian version.

Cugetari naive - Partea a treia: Scurgere

exist. Iar acest treaz fior purtat
de fire de nisip in clepsidre nevazute
Este pretios in sine.

Ne scurgem, si tu, si eu,
in valurile acestui nisip,
purtati de colb, din lume in lume.

Suntem gustati de ploi si sentimente
cu pofta fluturelui
proaspat iesit din crisalida.

oh, suntem! Noi, doi straini
in perpetua metamorfoza,
vesnic osciland intre tot si nimic.
 Jul 2017 Paul Jones
Piotr Sordyl
Ubiquitous, frozen river of time,
You know neither birth nor life,
You bear no past, await no future,
You even deny the present time.

All-might, frozen river of time,
You don't even have to fight to survive,
Without an end, you fear no death,
You shatter beliefs and all of faith.

Indifferent, frozen river of time,
Every sailor will meet their demise,
No matter status, genius or valiance,
Nothing extends beyond your boundaries.

One force that governs,
All the minds' madness,
Never to be seen,
Never to be captured.
We all live according to it, yet we know nothing about its nature.
 Jul 2017 Paul Jones
Piotr Sordyl
Wind filaments
hurl withered leaves;
We cuddle our smiles.
In the autumn of our lives, we hold our hands close to our hearts in fleeting moments of decline.
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