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graduated *** laude
with a PhD in madness,
practitioner of your
  own philosophy as
    a harbinger of doom,
tales of darkness where
the deck is always stacked,
what's the sense of light
   to a harsh night
or spring's flourish
   to winter's brashness,
you don't need to be
      a rocket scientist
    to diagnose absurdity
Manu M Jun 2015
He did not know happiness without her
He could only be happy with her
He felt lost and lonely when she wasn’t around
He couldn’t help but smile when she was around

He loved the sound of her laugh
He loved the birth mark on her neck
He loved the way she cried softly during movies in the theater hall
He loved the sparkle that never left her eyeballs

While she,
She knew happiness even without him
She could be happy without him
She felt free and elated when he wasn’t around
A tinge of insecurity outlined her smile when he was around

She liked his voice but loved hers
She liked his honey colored hair but felt hers were better
She liked his crooked smile but could have never loved it
She liked his eyes but loved the face that was reflected from them

She never said she loved him
She always said-“We’re friends”
But as time passed
She did not act very much like one

He assumed she had fallen for him
But she hadn’t
He fell in love with her
But she didn’t

From the moment he saw her
He thought that she was the one
And it was until later
When he realized that she wasn’t

She kept saying-“We’re friends”
And he did not understand why?
As they did nothing of the sort as friends did
When he asked him she said frowning
“I do not want to be more than friends”
The answer to him seemed pretty dry

She broke up and said it was meant to be
He shouted, cried and hit an unknown street
There were many fish in the pond he thought
But none matched her elegance
She was special, he thought,
She was special, maybe, because he loved her

She adored him
She was fond of him
But with him she was just not sure
Of what she was sure with John
When he heard this he was shocked
She had never asked him to love
But he did anyways
He gave her all that he had
Even when she hadn’t asked
Now he is loathing in a corner
And she, living her life with another
I wonder whose fault is that.

~Manu M.
Rebecca Wolohan Jun 2015
The couple sat together on opposite wings of the jet plane. “I would like to know you from the inside out. To swim up through your toes and fingertips and learn to be as you are,” she called to him. He replied, “Your pain and despair taste like spinach but I will eat them anyway.” She peered at him across the sky, saying, “I do not understand your hills and valleys, the forests and seas that inhabit the recesses of your heart. Show them to me, let me learn how they sound.”  To which he answered, “Your joy and compassion taste like caviar and I wish I was richer.”
Matt Mar 2015
Philosophically, Camus is known for his conception of the absurd. Perhaps we should clarify from the very beginning what the absurd is not. The absurd is not nihilism. For Camus the acceptance of the absurd does not lead to nihilism (according to Nietzsche nihilism denotes the state in which the highest values devalue themselves) or to inertia, but rather to their opposite: to action and participation. The notion of the absurd signifies the space which opens up between, on the one hand, man’s need for intelligibility and, on the other hand, 'the unreasonable silence of the world' as he beautifully puts it. In a world devoid of God, eternal truths or any other guiding principle, how could man bear the responsibility of a meaning-giving activity? The absurd man, like an astronaut looking at the earth from above, wonders whether a philosophical system, a religion or a political ideology is able to make the world respond to the questioning of man, or rather whether all human constructions are nothing but the excessive face-paint of a clown which is there to cover his sadness. This terrible suspicion haunts the absurd man. In one of the most memorable openings of a non-fictional book he states: “There is but one truly serious philosophical problem and that is suicide. Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy. All the rest – whether or not the world has three dimensions, whether the mind has nine or twelve categories – comes afterwards. These are games; one must first answer” (Camus 2000:11). The problem of suicide (a deeply personal problem) manifests the exigency of a meaning-giving response. Indeed for Camus a suicidal response to the problem of meaning would be the confirmation that the absurd has taken over man’s inner life. It would mean that man is not any more an animal going after answers, in accordance with some inner drive that leads him to act in order to endow the world with meaning. The suicide has become but a passive recipient of the muteness of the world. “...The absurd ... is simultaneously awareness and rejection of death” (Camus 2000:54). One has to be aware of death – because it is precisely the realization of man’s mortality that pushes someone to strive for answers – and one has ultimately to reject death – that is, reject suicide as well as the living death of inertia and inaction. At the end one has to keep the absurd alive, as Camus says. But what does it that mean?

In The Myth of Sisyphus Camus tells the story of the mythical Sisyphus who was condemned by the Gods to ceaselessly roll a rock to the top of a mountain and then have to let it fall back again of its own weight. “Sisyphus, proletarian of the gods, powerless and rebellious, knows the whole extent of his wretched condition: it is what he thinks of during his descent. The lucidity that was to constitute his torture at the same time crowns his victory. There is no fate that cannot be surmounted by scorn” (Camus 2000:109). One must imagine then Sisyphus victorious: fate and absurdity have been overcome by a joyful contempt. Scorn is the appropriate response in the face of the absurd; another name for this 'scorn' though would be artistic creation. When Camus says: “One does not discover the absurd without being tempted to write a manual of happiness” (Camus 2000:110) he writes about a moment of exhilarated madness, which is the moment of the genesis of the artistic work. Madness, but nevertheless profound – think of the function of the Fool in Shakespeare’s King Lear as the one who reveals to the king the most profound truths through play, mimicry and songs. Such madness can overcome the absurd without cancelling it altogether.
www.iep.utm.edu/existent/#SH2c
Andrew Wenson Feb 2015
Determine meaning of toxic
probe quantity of goodness required
to cease metabolic function
Give space to inspections
of remaining affect-reserves
Adjust interior humidity
to +/- decency

Console yourself.
Kagey Sage Jan 2015
Back to the scrawling pad
a cheap red notebook
wide ruled, with the perforated pages in it
in case I wanna punch one out easily
Those moleskin daze were measly
Thinking I'm creative and potent
but spending two years
to fill those tiny pages
Please, help me
reinvent the feel and manifest it
to real, accomplishment
Songs, verse, or vice grip words
to change a nation with
- to start a new nation with
Bokonon Bhikkhu
hurling Pikachus down from Mt. Olympus
land on the concrete with lemming splat
Get the metaphor?
I don't. Make your own up
I just an absurdest
A poor boy humming Queen
and writing rap atrocities
Nah, the rap "apocalypse"
minus all the apostrophes
Write so much anything anyone says
from now until oblivion
was just quoting me!
Leyla Aurora Dec 2014
I wanna live an absurd
I wanna live in pain
I wanna feel excitment
And dance in colored rain

You are the one who made me
Feel alive again
You are the one who taught me
Cruel rules of this sweet game

You are my grug, my teacher
My love, my dark champagne
In my dreams you're the torture
My absurd, my bright pain
Aaron Bee Nov 2014
It has been
awhile.
My tongue went
missing,
a tape recorder
of things people
already said shoved
into its place.
The blood in my being
is heated with the love of my significant,
without him my heart is
cold.
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