"philos" poems
Sophia,
She was full of interest but silent
her view to life was lucid but dim
She knew her finish line
so she dug the world to find her answer
She locked all her doors,
counted the stars,
dreamt until dawn,
nothing interest her outside her room
Then Sophia met Philos,
a man full of kindness, affection, and compassion
The world was his adventure, his arena
And they fell for each other
Sophia didn’t get him at first
He looked like a fool
But he loved her dearly
despite her cold heart and her uptightness
Philos gave anything to her
Sophia felt different since Philos
He thought her a view she once misunderstood
An overwhelming warmth hugged her body
filled with ideas and hopes
She felt moved to bring her outside
Love is the cause of action
and now she know that
Because without Philos, Sophia is nothing
Apr 27, 2021
Apr 27, 2021 at 5:34 PM UTC
to be or not to be
that's not the question
because i have no choice
to love or not to love
suits life much better
to love
to trust, to open, to feel another
life besides my own
and all the insecurities
doubt
fear
elation
that come along with it
or not to love
to give in to complacency
and this overwhelming desire to give
up in smoke with nothing to show
no legacy
no survivors
nothing left
besides the end, the abyss, the void
whether it's love
is the more difficult question
how do i know if it's love i feel
fear or love
phobos, philos
amazing how two polar opposites
are so easily conflated in my
silly head (which i think is overrated anyway)
it's the subjectivity of it
all that i cannot bear
alone, or together, no way
of knowing
to love or not to love
and whether or not it's love
let's hear Hamlet's whingy romanticized opinion on that, the *****
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 6:14 PM UTC
Atlas may have shrugged
But you're a fool
I wish the weight of the world
Would simply crush you
And your blind faith
To which you hold esteem
That is quickly draining
Your life as you bleed
To death do us part
Theres always a plan
Whether divine creation
Or evolutions hand
You think I'm wrong
We'll let me teach you
For in every situation
My philos will be true
Never succumbing
To popular notion
The wisdom of your words
Like an empty ocean
So tell me again
The master plan
Because blind faith
Creates a blind man
May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 12:44 PM UTC
Festival of flesh flicks in my nirvana
Inside an ivory tower of Bella Donna
The carnival demands detachment from cure
As the whole world opens the gate for
Springtime in the curvy castle of obscure
There, the wiser seeks no privacy
The loser laments for democracy
While, the stoic savors the slavocracy
The bonanza begins with boisterous bounce
Heats from her chasm in the palace of Ivory
Distances the world and everything it surrounds
The whole ground becomes the ark of Covenant's
Last glimpse to the film which is profanely profound
A Kaleidoscopic cinema of desire runs with fat fun
The Ivory rains down hallelujah in the praise of wet ****
The ripple of The Marvel rinses my combustion!
I was dragged in there for the fetish of my concussion
To draw manna and salwa from mantra maniac's feisty expulsion.
All of them there operated on the perimeter of extremes
Like the ritual for ‘Knight of East and West' to redeem
The **** sapiens's refrain from super-ego, ego and Id
Summer of mayhem in there evokes Eros and Philos
The spring also gushes the gifts from the above
The Hoor's **** yes, the nymph of bliss which was
Guaranteed by the God, for the finest of his Zealots
In this incredible pilgrimage to The Carnival of Eros.
Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 7:19 AM UTC
Philos:
The question of
existence has
recently fallen into
the house of
insignificance.
You have no tiles to hang,
no metaphysics to
conjugate. I am substance.
Actuality. The froth of
conversation opened
into the accident
of birth.
Remind me. of last
night. The
bedsheets are stretched.
The conversation of
sheep, grazed on
the syllabed
Of significance.
We love in the green
Over lament of
Civility.
You are the brand.
I am the name
that shail
never be
Spoken
Caroline Shank
Jul 14, 2022
Jul 14, 2022 at 8:55 AM UTC
As it dawned,
The Golden age of man
A wonderful group was assembled
To analyze the Sands
Grain by grain
Hands that they shook
Forever questioning the meaning of life
Remembered only by books
Yet for the men of Philos,
Quickly did they die,
Were criminalized by the people they loved
Mourned by those that cry
Since wisdom is a trade
Surrounded by weightless fences
The spiritual, the ignorant, the arrogance of all
Left Philos nigh defenseless
For there is a price for everything
Just ask the great city
To tell the tale they all forgot
About Philos and its fee.
Feb 16, 2017
Feb 16, 2017 at 3:37 PM UTC