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The birds the bees the trees, to the streams the rivers ocean or the seas,
They dont threaten me, I listen to them talk rapidly and also wildly,
They despise the wickedness of humanity, because every thing is money,
Money and more money, the taste of a golden nugget, you can't even get with,
Dipping sauce, look at the humans, running around forever loss,
Claiming they love God, and his creatures, but dont even love themselves,
Can't even eat right, over doped and slipping through the ropes, of fragile hope,
But I ignore the peasant, sounds of vehicle horns, people bustling and hustling,
To get to a place, of nowhere nowhere,
And once they get there, theyll just stare,
Like looking down into a dark alley, and drawing the deepest pessimism,
But it's only what is driven, that becomes lively, this doesn't require an Ivy, league
Diagnosis no, it requires your eyes your soul, and grazing thru the unseen peephole,
I've been to that side, where lots of people, would dare to hide,
The visions, of Rod Serling, truth is a menace and logic is a bully, but here me,
Out this isn't a rant about, anything of normality, I'm just showing you the brutality,
Of humanity, that we dont quite see or study, in that fact, see we are passioned by pain,
And prisoners to the most vane, acts upon mankind since we've crawled out the slime,
There are no exits and no there is no entry, there's only here,  and here we only have this one life,
To cherish, to make the most impact out of, people who we dont know, we've impacted,
Funny how, when you're dead, they all come around bearing you the finest gifts,
comforts of love, joy and passion,
To saying delightful, things about you,
But only when you're alive, they seem nowhere to be found, no gifts no love no joy  to trace around,
I find it very interesting, as I dig deeper into the abyss, of my mind, that we are tasted,
By the flavors of death, it's a like a scent we can't ignore, to the very core,
They may take this as *******, but it's nearly the first stage of wisdom,
Observance, and what I see is a failing society, when the bees disappear so will humanity, said by the great Einstein,
Einstein was considered a slow, crazy, low level human during his times,
Now a few decades later he's deemed a genius, an unsung hero, quite like Mr Tesla,
And many others just, too many too name, then they are enriched with the spiritual tag,
God compelled in you, as if it's a precious medal pinned by some war hungry General,
For fulfilling death, to other countries and the same country you serve in,
Will throw you behind bars in, if you spread blood shed on theirs, funny isn't it,
I've had many dangerous dreams, some vivid some violent some I can't even think to remember,
But all in all they couldn't hurt me,
Because my soul was too strong, the light couldn't be dimmed, or trimmed
By the perpetual darkness, that loves to lurk like a great serpent, awaiting its meal, and strikes its prey, as in pray..
So take a quick gander, through uncomfortable scopic, and you'll see a slight, reality check of a Philospic,
Jasper May 7
Sitting under the infinite cover of the stars.
I asked you if you had to live your life over and over again for all eternity would it be a blessing or a curse?
You said a blessing because you got to know people like me.
I said a curse.
But you made me rethink my answer.
I’d always wanted to end my life so of course to have to relive it seemed to be the most cruel thing imaginable.
But I think that getting to be friends with you over and over would be wonderful.
You made me glad I was such a ****** assassin of this body
For now it is the soft embrace you find comfort in.
And my eyes don’t stare blank as a broken clock, but gaze lovingly into your eyes like I never want to see anything else.
You laugh and that is when I know the true opposite of death.
It makes up for all those lonely night where the aching seemed more real than the being.
If I had to live forever I’d want it to be with you.
Francie Lynch Apr 30
Nietzsche postulated His death.
tRump proved it.
But gods are known to resurrect.
"God is Dead"
Laokos Mar 5
i'll raise an electric fence around
the gods up there
in mountains and ivory towers
and they'll all wear shock collars
too

i'll spread peanut butter on bread
and send it to them through
the mail

i'll write them letters from the
lower world saying that 'time
really isn't a bother anymore
because apples rot in home
baked pies down here'

i'll reach through my own
tainted build up of corrosive
discharge and pull a petal
from the flower of life
to eat in front of
them with a coffee toothed smile

i'll throw weeds over
palisades into
groomed gardens

i'll **** on the flaming sword
spinning like i do
outside
heavenly gates

i'll put AA batteries on
my ******* and force
feed the north star
until it bursts

i'll stain the glass in windows
extolling failures and shining
blunders under vaulted
ceilings

i'll be nothing less than
the imperfect son of
an imperfect man and
an imperfect
woman--

human
all too human
after all
Rhys Hebbs Dec 2020
I spent twenty-three years
gathering my army of One.

So, on the eve of the dawn
when all inner-demons are born
and forlorn dreams all bleed at the seams,
the whip-snip of winters wind
will decimate the gold in the day
to proclaim the heir to my king...

and the sacrifice I must pay
for the essential exchange
of any ail-led aspirant
to annihilate any alinement
with the archetype of a tyrant?;

All unearned falsehood must never depart
from any sacred facade held in my heart
lest the lust for Pura Vida be the preacher
to my inner-creatures beseecher,

for adversity is the shunned sage
to those who prefer comfortable fables
and a prophet to those
who harken to heroes.

Thus,

it matters not
any amount of pain that you gained
from playing the truest game
you could play,
with whole heart,
in the wretched world of man,
when now all that remains
are the paint strips flaking away
from the walls in your room
with old age greeting the faith
concealed in your doom

nor, if the portrait of your greatest fate
has forsaken its grace
for the sake of that gorgeous
echoing bellow
heard within the hole in your soul,
for it’s the price all must pay
in the pursuit of being whole.
Pasquino Dec 2020
Cohen wrote of broken praises,
and Shakespeare of unchanging light.
Aurelius of unyielding ways;
Descartes of impossible sights.

An ironic Socrates goes
on to fetch the hemlock cup,
while Nietzsche wanders on to rot,
content, he never drank hemlock.

But now what am I supposed to
believe– which truth is really clear?
When I see your gorgeous eyes– blue
I remember only Virgil, dear:

“Amor vincit omnia, et nos cedamus amori”
The only truth I’ve ever seen.
Matt Oct 2020
Temptation unravels like a flower abdicating her bulb
For to fair maidens, my life I’ve sold
Hold me and dawn your lips upon mine
And let you and me sail through Paris, down the river of her Seine

Warmth I know not, yet nathless I seek Apollo’s chariot mare
And to hunt ‘til dusk at us she stares
Lay here under the veil of twilight
Under the twilight, ‘til the sun lays forth her light, nay any brightness

Follow me down the Rhine, right, follow not to the river of Styx
Rise with me amongst Alps, like Frederick
When I call, will you find us a niche?
Or tell me Atlas has fell, and your thoughts have shattered to pieces?

Endeavor to find my ailing pen and fly to me on winged shoes
I juggle your court, the fastest fool
Woman, I thought you my medicine
But the turmoil you pave, leaves me a reluctant libertine

Here am I, waging a war wherein I will dutifully fail
But for thee, Cupid’s arrow I’d impale
Then in my failure I find discord
Oh how my war ails her, bind me in brass under the lunar cold

How could you forgive me? Wearied, hands I forged flames and scarred your heart
And left you hideously distraught
Should you, I’d build you a throne d’or
And father for us four children, each as innocent as a fleur

Cast me out like the dawn, for in my heart, the wind blows full of sand
Deep in there, your Trojan horse still stands
Down in the earth you will find my soul
You brought your wars-men to lay waste what could have been wonderful

Proud, are you?, for waving the air under my wings upon which I
Climbed to the Sun, in euphoric high
Now to the maze where I still devise
To face your wrath and wrestle your beasts to ensure our love survives

Tis a hopeless cause, I walk like the air on a stale summer day
And I’m dreaming of your sharp green eyes
And I remember your skin like silk
Woven by the Fates; “us,” I thought we were to be bred of the same ilk

Resign to Versailles and sit beneath the Sun King, his brightly “or”
Run to the valley, you did before
And in there find your poisoned lily
Your fallen stars unveil your sympathies; marked by your fleur-de-lis

Stand like a pillar of salt, lick your wounds, and try to quench your thirst
You were born with two snakes in your fists
And you fend off all men; lonesome blues
You deny yourself passion and love, but dress as if he seeks you

I drowned myself beneath a circle of stars, searching for answers
And came upon a ballet dancer
I asked her, “don’t dance in paraphrase”
“Let me see you at réveille, and peer on your inward gaze.”

Show yourself to me, self proclaimed Queen of many-a-mans envy
Your masquerade ***** hide your beauty
You speak endless lies, but show not a man
When you stay behind your dramatic masks, you’ll never know friends again

Throw out your doctrines that bind your immeasurable concerns
Turn off the things you think you have learned
And decide with your mind and your heart
Seek Saturn to announce your mysteries, now then, think like Descartes
Emry Oct 2020
When all is lost and all is dreary,
When fate is gone and you must go on,
When you go on without a light,
When you fight through the worst of night,
Du bist der übermensch.
When you beat the hopelessness and decay,
Du bist der übermensch.
When you fight a world meaningless,
Du bist der übermensch.
When you create meaning from naught,
Du bist der übermensch
The poem is based on Nietzsche's idea of "the übermensch", literally the "over-man" or "above-man", thus the repeated phrase means "You are the over-man", but "übermensch" can't really be translated. It's the idea of the person who finds his own meaning in a godless world. Nietzsche belived that the Enlightenment "killed", or rather disproved, God, making there be no objective morality and meaning.
Kagey Sage Jul 2020
Done with thinking because that's for god to do
I am just this appendage of a greater consciousness

Ahab is blameless
in his small existence
Don't quote me
quote Herman and Freddy Nietzsche
They and their hermits
coming down from the mountains
to declare they ought to have
loved their fate all along

Amor fati
Why couldn't we have been stuck in the herd all along
guys who get love and happiness effortless
no need to spend their life in anguish
searching through tomes
found in tombs for eons and eons
enhancing their social aloofness
and their unremembered trauma
'till those sad souls give those pansies confidence
to leave an exegesis of their own

Too smart kid
that decried Christ and
the shadows of a god all around
only to find the search for truth was hopeless
Find a way to dumbly enjoy life again
and you only say again cause
that's all we can control
our memories
and we too often forget
our thought habits
the pre-neolithic mind tricks
on ourselves

Too many MLMs profiting off false mindfulness
missing the point beyond exercise
and short stress relief

Change your thought patterns to love your destiny
That's the best we have
to pretend to have control in this ̶h̶e̶l̶l̶ hole
Harley Hucof Apr 2020
The pen of the past write the future in the present
People pretend and never learn their lessons.

And they fight their ego, but it always prevails
God's existence doesn't make sense,
Life's not fair
I guess Nietzsche was right ,
God is dead.

The pen of the past write the future in the present
What i am trying to say is that your choices will haunt you forever
And make you lose control and forget that you are blessed
Aliens are the new religion and GOD is dead.

As i declare it
I write it and turn to sleep
If GOD is dead, he is living in my head
I say my prayer and fade away
In the dreamworld where the ego always prevails .

Words Of Harfouchism.
Loop
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