#philosophers
I can’t seem to show them
The things they can’t seem to see
My Fathering reputation at stake
Few were the tricks up my sleeves
Listen now my children
Take heed the words of love
Put on your thinking caps
Take off your boxing gloves
Open sesame oh heart I plead!
A solution has to be...
Teach them how to break them down
Their walls of misery
Oh Father how have you forsaken me?
Dec 9, 2020
Dec 9, 2020 at 7:09 AM UTC
To take a thought or some emotion,
and to convert it to the written word.
To have a voice unspoken,
and to know it yet may be heard.
To place before the audience
some learning or to simply share a view.
To tell of things, of love or pain,
and to give a glimpse of you.
To remove an outer layer,
or remove a mental crutch.
To open up your soul,
and expose it to their touch.
To etch into the mind,
of someone never met.
A hope a dream or some idea,
that they will not forget.
Each and every poet,
writes of what they have lived and feel.
And from their own experience and dreams,
they paint for us unseen worlds to real.
Through conveyance by the written word,
that great poets have oft expressed in rhyme.
Casting forward thoughts of love and wisdom,
to become unforgotten and to be heard for all of time.
Dec 16, 2019
Dec 16, 2019 at 4:47 PM UTC
I want to find you
Aristophanes told me about you
And the completion of my soul
Our soul
I want to find you
But Heidegger tells me to wait
Let the wind carry remembrance
Let love find me
I learnt it is possible
Your existence
Maybe you don’t know
But I am possible
I want to live in a van with you
Learn how to love technology
And appreciate what brings us
I want to live in a van with you
Learn to depend on my own
And paradoxically depend on our unison while self-relying
I am tired of planning my tomorrow
I do not wish to have you tomorrow
I wish to find you now
I want to live in a van with you
Travel the world apeiron* gave us
And be alone in the universe
Paradoxically enjoy my solitude with you
I wonder if you sing the same song
And if you are shaped to meet me
And the world I know of
I want to be your nobody
And live alone with you
In a moving home
In a moving truck
I want to hate me
And hate you too
Just to realize hate and love are the same coin just different sides
I want to depend on the harmony
And the tension of true songs
While we learn to fit in each other
And cry in unison
One song
Two souls
One friendship
Two forces
Apr 1, 2019
Apr 1, 2019 at 7:14 PM UTC
Isn't football such an event?
Listen to the philosopher's lament,
Old Socrates barracked for his team,
In the AFL, worst you've ever seen,
Socrates gazed at the replay,
Groaned, "We lost again!"
So he drank hemlock and gin,
Slit his wrists, did himself in,
Drowned in his phony spa,
His ghost calls down from afar,
"The premiership is what is meant!"
Woe, Socrates' eternal lament!
Apr 1, 2017
Apr 1, 2017 at 5:09 AM UTC
They say you can always tell a man from his shoes,
They say time makes a man,
They also said time is like an ocean in which man sails,
But if all men were to be on the ocean of time sailing together,
Would there be enough wind for all?
And if not would this be the reason for the inequality?
Would I be correct to say that God created all men to be unequal?
I know what you thinking already,
Here comes another atheist,
In fact I can’t be listening this,
But I understand you, as we all have an unequal minds,
Yes that’s true, and you are correct,
But only if you leave now and stop listening to this,
Then you would only have half of the message,
And a huge story to tell about an atheist you have met,
But this won’t end you story if I still have your ears.
They say
You can always tell a man from the shoes he wears
But that’s not true as not all men wear shoes, as some love to wear slippers
They say
Time makes a man
But they didn’t speak of women, would I be correct to say they were sexiest?
They say
Time is like an ocean
If so what will you call rainfall?
All of this were coined by men who loved to be philosophical or loved to be called philosophers
So their name won't just be on their tombstones but in the minds of the living
The truth is God is not unjust so all men were created equal
And if I were a philosopher this would be my word to the next generation.
We are all created for a purpose
Find it, Live it, Fulfil it, while you still human…..
After all I am being Philosophical…..
Jul 30, 2016
Jul 30, 2016 at 5:31 AM UTC
Dad!
I need you, Dad.
Dad!
Where are you?
What is this?
What's that smell?
Where do the ants go?
Can you tell?
Do snails have brains?
Can I feel their slime?
Where do bubbles come from?
Is there time?
Will I always grow?
Can I fly?
What can't I remember?
I do try!
Dad!
Where are you, Dad?
Dad!
I need you!
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 6:12 PM UTC
Blasting out of the fog and mud
Past the forests in the sunrise
Farms and high ways
Trotting through suburbia
Through the tunnel
Defacing and refusing to allow themselves to be part of an unjust ******
Believe in the intermingling of colors
Waiting for the planets to fall into place
To stop for a moment and inhale the abundant harmony that surrounds them and emote and create a inspiring response in the form of self expressive freedom that matches the beauty that had compelled them
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 10:51 AM UTC
I tried to be cordial with inactivity
washing it with weeping juice like a pardoned effigy
but the diamonds of determination were so wrapped in mind debris
that I threw away a fortune in potential
The smiles of the platitudes are louder than their laughs
An appeasing of their attitudes I warrant with the gaffes
of an undertaker's underling bestowing upon epitaphs
another deadened and deprived credential
*Seeing days in ways that never did occur to me
Every end a mending by default, a sour recipe
for compromise eroding in a rusty *** of empathy*
The dentist rubbed his fingers when he saw my gritted teeth
No sermon on the mount from me, more a mumble on the heath
My incisor is a tack that would support a giant's wreath
Thorns of novocaine will numb my Christmas wish
For the sake of universal order I will freeze a yawn
Mostly harmless said a hitchhiker of Earth so I can spawn
a batch of clones to live on hold where all the battle lines are drawn
I'll zip up and in the universal order I'll languish
*Seeing nights in ways that never did occur to me
Every satellite a telecast of fault, a sour recipe
for sleeping juice to boil over in Big Dipper's empathy*
Where's a pound of flesh when needed? I've grown tired of these ribs
On the grill of soggy marrow, hungry haunts will have first dibs
Call on William Blake to send the weepers to their cribs
Wishful thinking I'll preserve beneath the floorboards
With a hand in nothing new and an incisor in the usual
intestine chains surround my motivation's hot pursual
Don't read too much into my implied acceptance of a dual
with a messenger of fact's implicit hoards
*Seeing days in ways that never did occur to me
Every end a mending by default, a sour recipe
for compromise eroding in an empty *** of sympathy*
Sound the bugle for my bed is made, I'm rested for detention
Solitaire I'll play in my confinement for the crime of sought attention
I revolted the philosophers in plugging my intention
I would not concede that lab rats had it worse
The satellites are full and bright, the shadows walk on lakes tonight
I'll dream of sleep but eyes will play me in my bedroom's voided sight
Lay with me and sigh and the elastic laws of nature might
halt the quivering continuum of fate's forsaken course
*Seeing nights in ways that never did occur to me
Every channel plays the same old cooking show's ensoured recipe
Compromise a minor seasoning in liver-flavoured empathy*
04 15 14
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 1:33 PM UTC