"nietzche" poems
"The surest way to corrupt a Youth
is to instruct him to hold in higher esteem
those who think alike, rather than those who think differently."
-Nietzche
Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 3:15 AM UTC
(for Nietzche, who cowers behind art.)
The world calls the conquered ******
to remember that the sun every night yearns
to rise, to rise, to rise
when there is no guarantee, no promise, no sure thing.
Yet still it yearns
to rise, to rise, to rise.
The world called Canaanites ******
while they traded and toiled along the shores
of land promised to the aged heretic of Sumer,
whose wife could give only love.
The world called Hebrews ******
while they raised Pharoah tombs
Provided respite from the eastern chariots
Stubborn in refusal of the living gods
Drinking only Eloheim's bitter grape
That provides brief respite from his decrees
When delving deep in one's cups.
The world called Britons ******
When flogged Boudicea fought and fought and finally fell
To Roman spear and gladius
When Angles and Saxons raided then stayed
When Cromwell climbed the pale cliffs
The world called the Iberians, Gauls and Teutons ******
when Caesar crossed the Rubicon
Pax Romana for Citizens born
Land for the wealthy, voting rights too
Taxes and tithes from their toil.
The world called the Khoikhoi of South Africa ******
From the VOC to fatal Apartheid
Up rose a man
The heart of the land
A man named Nelson Mandela.
The world called the Viet Minh ******
from Can Vong to Dien Bien Phu
'till they slogged howitzers above
to reign Napoleonic terror below.
And to them it was just
The American War
After the world called them
Vietnamese.
The world calls the conquered ******
to remember that the sun every day yearns
to rise, to rise, to rise
When there is no guarantee, no promise, no sure thing
yet still it yearns
to rise, to rise, to rise
'though it never watches its own rising
undoing raiment of fading embers
swimming naked in the royal blue
bathing all with daily newborn naked glory
chasing the celestial tidal tease
that seems to wander where it please
reminding that all are born free
but can grow into ignorance
and be called ******
Seek truths
that hold in unity;
that provide nourishment
beneath the lash
allowing one
to rise, to rise, to rise.
Jul 15, 2019
Jul 15, 2019 at 9:01 AM UTC
It seems that I am indeed
Just another lost soul
Perhaps Floyd was right
Maybe the world is a fishbowl
But you see, the trouble
In all of this nonsense
Is that I still hope to see
You hop over my fence
Please tear down my wall
Oh, won't you come in?
I've been feeling comfortable
Yet numb, dismissing my sin
So what are we?
Essentially good, or not?
Do you find favor in Socrates?
Is Nietzche's idea the one you bought?
Let's question, let us wonder
Should my thoughts go assunder
Don't tip or toe, or go tumbling under
Nevermind the noise, it's just thunder
Get caught up in the spark
The rigid structure of light
Because you are alive
So live this gift of your life
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 12:17 AM UTC
NIETZCHE YOU ****
YOU'VE RUINED MY LIFE
I was once so innocent Without You.
Now I can hardly contemplate the light of day
from staring into the abyss for so long.
How can I ever forgive you?
Cynic-master, who taught me how to think for myself
who taught me how to speak with such lucid contempt
Now I can never trust the government
Now I can never have faith in anyone's heavanly aspirations,
The sun having long set on any protests of idealism.
And yet I still find you remarkable Nietzsche
You never fail to make me laugh
at the times when I need it the most.
You're the rebel friend who I can
never introduce to my parents.
Yours is the poster which should adorn every angry teenagers' wall
With quotes highlighting The Will to Power and violent determination.
A hopeful voice in a godless world.
I'm reminded of you in the girl that speaks
or stealing every crucifix in her former convent school
after her friend was expelled.
I'm reminded of you with every protester
who throws a Molotov cocktail at armed police
I'm reminded of you
in eery artist who does'nt follow formality
in every caged bird who continues to sing.
For all your anger
I must thank you Nietzsche
Even if I can never be as happily ignorant as I once was
For wasn't the very crux of modern life challenged by you?
All of Humanity
All the cruelty
All the spit Fullness
All the Hatred
when you threw yourself in front of that horse
being beaten in Turin
and for losing your mind
Just to prove a point.
May 4, 2012
May 4, 2012 at 5:51 AM UTC
I think about time I've spent
moments in my life
watching ****** movies
eating bad food
working dead end job
after dead end job
staring at the blank wall
listening to ticking clocks
cheerfully counting down my demise
long walks I'd take at dusk
down the trails by the river
pretending I enjoy running
because the pounding of my heart
in my head made me feel alive
I'd think about life and death
and whether god exists
and whether love exists
about *** philosophy, infinities
the hours I have spent writing
poetry and nonfiction
displaying myself for scrutiny
painting canvas that I hate
to make myself feel something
to hope it reaches someone
reading Nietzche and Foucault
as if my existence could matter
but along the way I found myself
and maybe all of these moments
have led up to something
consequential and meaningful
every moment is part of my journey
every experience is part of becoming
every hour has lead me to you
so not a single second
of my life has ever been wasted
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 5:40 PM UTC
Let the rain fall all night
Sitting in puddles on the street
With your ponytail soaking.
Let the May showers come again
With the repetition of Nietzche.
You lie on your back in the cool wet mud
Spitting insults in a million different ways.
You let your golden hair fall
As the leaves might in Autumn
Continuously spitting with fury
Hiding your anguish behind those self centered eyes.
When you fall to your knees like the mortals to gods
You sing, quietly, the song your mother sang
After which, your hair back up, you appear from the shadows
Looking a bit worse for wear.
You let the rain shower down,
Ripe yellow hair turns almost brown at the roots
And as you tear off the drenched silk dress
You find you might like yourself better that way.
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 5:00 PM UTC
Grading curves....
Wrongly ruptured neurological nerves.
Condemned by societal hate,
his fluctuating brain synapses tend to create
vicious, malicious and practitious acts
that gravitate to attack the faith
in every church enlisted in every homestead household.
Retaliation puts him in a chokehold.
A headlock, a leglock, a deadlock of the mind
consciousness revoked, the button is broke
vain attempts to find rewind.
Press Pause.
Bask in his murderous glory,
the bodies of the converted; epitome of gory.
Bloodshed because god is dead claimed Nietzche
He kills all his idols and struggles to think freely.
You see the doctors had his mind locked in a cage,
they built the bars since he was at an illiterate stage.
They taught him how to act, then how to think,
a mindless drone choked cause they revoked the power to speak-
toungue in cheek, they'll chop off your arm just to make sure
nothing's hiding up the sleeve
and questioning authority's their biggest pet peeve.
But enough is enough...I CHOOSE WHAT TO BELIEVE...
Drop my textbook, throw my desk, and through those
guidance doors I leave.
Jan 3, 2013
Jan 3, 2013 at 9:40 PM UTC
The hadron collider showed an unknown influence affecting subatomic particles.
“Is this proof of a higher power in the universe?” asked Marianne Williamson.
“Is this Will, is this magick?”
Yes Herr Nietzche, there will always be unknowns in human science as the scientists should have known all along, instead of substituting the most recent names of observations as the replacement of God.
No, there probably isn’t free will but we seem to be life in the unknown with more power than any other around.
This universe may just repeat on and on but what do you do with that knowledge? Can you even help to choose what you choose?
All these past influences and instinctual impulses lead the charge. But there's that spark. That mystery if we can ever really know and comprehend it all with limited senses, time, and minds.
Maybe you don’t have a choice in your life, but you can have the feeling you do. The feeling you can shape your world amid the destiny you feel in your heart.
Practice being a yeasayer to life because that just might be your fate.
Amor fati each time around.
Nov 1, 2021
Nov 1, 2021 at 9:10 PM UTC
Moses descends from the rugged heights of Sinai bearing the tablet
"You shall not ******
Nietzche organizes the cobwebs of his mind to declare morality is his own
"God is dead"
Even Monty Python creates mockery and mishap from "The Meaning of Life."
A Macedonian, a **** a Patriot
with Intelligence, Voice, and Sword
step over the caution tape and march nations
into the deepest valleys atop the heights of Everest.
The likes of Augustine put their chips on the table for patience
but Patton has a pair of aces and the academics fold before the river.
The denotations of Good and Evil are forever
infinite and versatile to the dismay of the Philosopher,
while God himself
is denied power
to undo the past.
Humanity lives
on the nourishment
of knowledge.
Mar 27, 2010
Mar 27, 2010 at 8:51 AM UTC
¡De qué sirve al triste la filosofía!
Kant o Schopenhauer o Nietzche o Bergson...
¡Metafisiqueos!
En tanto, Ana mía,
te me has muerto, y yo no sé todavía
dónde ha de buscarte mi pobre razón.
¡Metafisiqueos, pura teoría!
¡Nadie sabe nada de nada: mejor
que esa pobre ciencia confusa y vacía,
nos alumbra el alma, como luz del día,
el secreto instinto del eterno amor!
No ha de haber abismo que ese amor no ahonde,
y he de hallarte. ¿Dónde? ¡No me importa dónde!
¿Cuándo? No me importa..., ¡pero te hallaré!
Si pregunto a un sabio, "¡Qué sé yo!", responde.
Si pregunto a mi alma, me dice: "¡Yo sé!"
641
"Battle not with monsters
lest ye become a monster,
and if you gaze into the abyss,
the abyss gazes also into you...."
Friedrich Nietzche.
The struggle with inner demons
old as time.
The darkness that sometimes consumes
and cannot be avoided
must be tamed, controlled.
For I am not the victim
yet - if the monster is not constrained...
I leave a trail of victims
the innocent.
In my heart - that is a true sin....
"The purpose of life is not to be happy.
It is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate,
to have it make a difference that you have lived and lived well."
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 11:29 AM UTC
The so-called philosopher
Friedrich Nietzche writes:
"Wherever I found a living thing,
there found I Will to Power ...
to the stronger the weaker shall serve".
In an ideal
joy-and-happiness-society
would every person
be compassionate and cooperative
to every other person
instead of domineering and exploitative?
To achieve joy and happiness
in society
must we be
not domineering and exploitative
but compassionate and cooperative?
Jul 26, 2019
Jul 26, 2019 at 4:42 PM UTC
and I let it out and said okay
and I made promises
to what extent does what comes out of my mouth actually have truth?
what's the correlation between what we say and what we do?
the ideal chess set and the moves, the game plan and the...
truth, **** it keeps coming back to that
a stoic is prisoner to it, and nietzche warns and warns again
but I'm not sure if Nietzsche ever loved a woman
other than his mother, no, love turns you into a truth seeker
and you're doomed to be a hero, sticking your neck out for nothing, for blows,
and it *****
wishing yourself better
wishing yourself cooler, calmer
the self is confused and hides
why is it hiding? I ask those questions, which are the dangerous ones
will to power is an easy way out, but I read another piece that had a different explanation, the bible I think it was
and it had equal validity, it had me looking at things differently
and myself is the biggest scardy cat
I wonder what Nietzsche would say about that
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 3:48 PM UTC
Friedrich Nietzche once wrote that god was dead. It was a fictional death befitting Nietzche's fictional god, but as my eyes scanned the pages his words rang true. I am the world's ugliest intellectual -- stabbing at the eternal witness with shattered fragments of his own reflection.
Jun 24, 2017
Jun 24, 2017 at 4:23 PM UTC
Nietz
sche:
the warrior with the heart of a girl. According
to Will Durant,
odd intel-informs
this POV of the channel, deep 'neath this stream,
slow Sunday morning flow into a pond to wait, awhile, yet and we
shall see geni-us grow kind
of a blob of peace, a scab to dam the loss,
"the life is in the blood"
"your brother's blood cries out... how long?"
Study war for fifty years, learn one lesson last.
abso unique ununununun I suffer
this to be so, now,
how else might this be if may were your word,
now,
whodat? eh, we bein' odd, now, are we
even?
Only you would know, but
only if I allow.
You must shine for me to see your light.
Mightn't I reflect the glow,
whereby you see, through words to the mean
ing ing ing
first the thing, then the name,
knowing the name is not samesame
knowing first the
thinked thing, then the
name
by which you may know what I mean,
after
a period of complete ion depletion
batter batter batter upery upery up
and the magic pen flows once more,
once
more, past the sluggish mediocrity settled
into
quiet peacefully beyond the maddened crowd.
--- The mad Nietzsche, gone to Dionysus,
--- left a dangerous, laborious trail to peace and quiet,
--- "Lisbeth, why do you cry, are we not happy"
Oct 20, 2019
Oct 20, 2019 at 1:43 PM UTC
God is dead,
Killed stone cold in our head,
Buried in our hearts,
From which, one time, repentance bled.
An ocean of faith,
Shrinks to a sliver,
No laurels placed, any more,
At divine altar.
God's ceased to breathe,
With fledglings to bereave,
But no devotees to leave,
For him no soul to grieve.
God is dead,
Killed stone cold in our head,
In just the way,
That Nietzche said.
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 9:59 AM UTC