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Couplet Philosophy Poems | Couplet Poems About Philosophy

These Couplet Philosophy poems are examples of Couplet poems about Philosophy. These are the best examples of Couplet Philosophy poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Couplet | |

Person of Colour

Person of colour is coherently germane,
He is never insane.

Some things about this person of colour may seem strange,
He is simple and he is yet to engage.

This person of colour loves the critics,
It is from them, he ticks.

This person of colour is natural,
And so, he is not a trial.

This person of colour loves to exchange
Ideas beyond his range.

This person of colour loves keyboard,
Tis with this he comes on board.

This person of colour is a charcoal- a black beauty.
This person of colour is me.

Copyright © Abdulhafeez Oyewole

Details | Couplet | |

A Bag of Popcorn

They ask me why I’m so happy
Asking me, if I just won a prize
I replied, well I reckon I did
Today is a wonderful surprise

When you have a past like mine
My today is always bright
There is no better feeling on earth
Than the joy of doing right

I may be an old man on a cane
My heart is skipping along
I learned to embrace the meaning
Life is a beautiful song

True life has its ups and downs
There’ll be forks in the road
With a smile I’ll stop for a while
Help you with your load

I had me a bag of popcorn today
It tasted exceptionally good
In fact, I will go as far as to say
Better then it probably should

For years, I had a guard in the pen
Popped him a bag each night
Then he would simply throw it away
His twisted little delight

He knew, it was those little things
Ate at our heart and soul
Movie with the wife Friday night
Popcorn in the bowl

I had a bag of popcorn today
Wife sitting at my side
I had a smile, which lasted awhile
One I could not hide

They ask me why I’m so happy
Asking me, if I won a prize
I replied, I reckon I did
Today is a wonderful surprise

For some reason today I was thinking about C.O. Talbert and
how he would pop a bag of popcorn even though he didn't eat
popcorn. He did it just because he knew it would make everyone
want some. I always felt sorry for him. His life must have been
very disappointing. The moral here: when you learn to appreciate
the little things in life your popcorn will taste a whole lot better. 

Copyright © Michael Jordan

Details | Couplet | |

Theatre of my Soul

The flying sent projections free to see,
from adjunct Astrals singing bold decree.

Perched on Pisces’s cusp, forsaking Plato’s cave,
Puppets casting shadows, chancing me a slave.

They hang from dreams of higher forms, allures
Contempt in self when loving carnal cores.

Haunted by women’s passions kept in Spirits,
Dawns my sleeping stages now inherits

Marionettes aloft eternal twists
of spinning truths with lies recalling trysts.

Killing prone volitions, changing essence.
Chosen starlight’s beings guiding presence.

Upon a love in purest form demands,
Forgotten suicides of ego strands.

Risking Pirsig’s fate in Zen and journey,
Waging sanity, a bounty worthy.

The stringing of my soul and bracing seeks,
A pulling truth beyond this death it speaks.

Alternating stanzas of iambic and trochaic pentameter

Copyright © rob carmack

Details | Couplet | |

Second Chance

As the never world awaits me, 
The lord darkness, his cloak now draped.
Haunting images that appear in dreams,
Invade the subconscious, till again I wake 

Complative thoughts well before the dawn,
I walk the morning shore,
How many have stood on these same sands,
Reflecting the echoes of those no more.

And still the waves they pound the shore,
Relentless in their quest,
As they crash on the rocks with deafly roar,
White tipped and foaming zest.

Dawn breaks with gilded cotton clouds,
Waiting like courtiers to their king.
Gathering round the sovereign sun,
Bestowing his warmth on everything.

Would that life compare to the shore,
All worries get washed away.
Cares thrown to the four winds,
As on my knees I pray

© N A Windle 2009

Copyright © nicholas windle

Details | Couplet | |

What do you think

You and I would make a terrific poetic pair 
Yours all flow free with so much care 
Some say an Artistic poet I have become 
Jerk then smooth out and hum along. 

You to me are like a Robert Frost 
While I in my imagination am lost 
Being daring yet avoiding a crash 
And enjoy humor of Ogden Nash. 

Will Rogers is last one I longingly like 
Can you imagine if in front of a mike 
How impressive he would have been 
Through the thick with all of the thin. 

So Andrea Dietrich what do you think? 
In my poems, help me work out each kink 
So mine also for long time each endures 
And some day too will be just like yours.

Copyright © James Horn

Details | Couplet | |

Previous Poems Protruded

Previous Poems Protruded

Two previous poems protruded from my mind
Then to many more facts I became resigned
What I had looked for often and found
Is much happiness in those all around.

Lack of love was leading cause of insanity
And it has always been known to all humanity
When it is only my poems which you prefer
This could be know to cause and create a stir.

Poems from God were granted with gratitude
On some parts of bodies have been tattooed
Like good weather which they are forecasting
My poems are appreciated and also everlasting.

With a great memory possessed by your mind
Would you my beloved friend be so kind
After killing and insanity is brought to a halt
Kindly with much pleasure, please pass the salt.

Does this remind you of one of those seagoing movies?
It was something about ten items in the Bible which I
often have a hard time mastering. Jim Horn

Copyright © James Horn

Details | Couplet | |

Ream After Ream

Ream After Ream

What I have written was ream after ream
Of good poems which I rated as supreme
Of such great quality could hardly find
In any imagination of a normal mind.

When I wrote this it was at midnight
After sleeping tow hours with all my might
Suddenly I awoke and each poem was there
Appearing incredible and beyond compare.

Many can't make any sense of them at all
And to others are outrageous or may appall
While I wondered how much effort it took
To arrange poems so they could become a book.

Was struck by awe while my eyes opened wide
My new poems did come out from deep inside
Me, myself and as hard as I definitely did try
Wanted to complete poems before I would die.

For writing my poems, I have this great thirst
And even if it is for better or absolute worst
Every day I keep trying to pave the way
For nice things about my poems thou shalt say.

James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran
(Only considered to be
a Viet Nam Era Vet.) 
PS. Birth of new ideas.

Copyright © James Horn

Details | Couplet | |


The paper lay flat
on a low reading table,

yet thick in it's pages,
a days worth of fable.

Our library bright with it's
rays to it's sills

and the paper bleached white
with a grey side of gills.

It's HEADLINE in blue
relaxing your eyes.

Large print making stories
seem simpler than size.

Text in black letters;
dragged out into words.

Knowledge you crave for.
Ideas in herds.

News from a paper
pressed for attention.

Left on a table
as though for detention.

Copyright © Trevor McLeod

Details | Couplet | |

The Conceit of Poetry

What is a dream 
if not reality's conceit?
What is reality 
if not a shadowy deceit?

The dream circle was unsealed 
when we were born
and dream-time filled our lives 
from night to early morn.

The circle grew ever wider 
in our youthful days of yore
with unbounded dreams of glory 
on some far distant shore.

But then the circle tightens 
when our days near to a close.
Dreams replace ambitions 
as one's mortal body slows.

So our dreams in poems we'll write
hence when we disappear,
we'll leave our mark in some small way 
to show that we were here.

And in some far off time we hope 
someone will read our verse
and a dream that was a part of us 
will shake the universe.

Copyright © Roy Jerden

Details | Couplet | |

The Leader Bunny

All the little bunnies were lined up for a race. Why, you may ask?
Because the dear old Leader Bunny was stepping down with grace.
He had led the others for years without disgrace, in all pursuits.
He was their advisor, friend, and confidant... solver of disputes.
Such a lofty position was dearly sought by all…from all around.
But he could pick only one to wear that lofty, wonderful crown.
So a race was determined to quickly resolve, the question therein.
And a lovely little laurel crown was offered, to the one who did win.

Now many strategies to win emerged from within the race.
The most common was the notion to set the fastest pace…
A few would use tricks that might hurt, in order to slow others down.
A few were mean, for they wanted the power that comes with the crown.
Two were clever and would catapult each other at the very end.
A few just practiced running to gain the added stamina needed to win.
Only one little rabbit found shoes for the poor, for it was a rocky trail.
And when the race began he helped those hurt in the prevail.

Now the dear old leader had never actually worn a laurel crown.
His had been symbolic; his works had brought him his renown.
When the Leader Bunny gave the laurel crown to he who won the race…
Only a few were surprised, when the little helper won the Leader’s grace…
Though some would go on to complain because he had come in last…
It truly takes someone who knows how to serve, to lead and guide the rest.
But my moral to this story is that…. Regardless what some may think…
It takes compassion to correctly lead…and sometimes the last can be the best…

Copyright © Carol Eastman

Details | Couplet | |

Greater Love

Greater Love

I shivered and watched him as the snow fell 
Frail, tattered clothes, bearded, no shoes, but--smell!
I thought--what a contrast--comparing sights,
But love was a lesson I'd learn that night!

Not from plastic steeples or rhetoric,
Philanthropy or emotional trick...
I would learn to look in my own mirror
For compassion, mercy, empathy--clearer.

       This complex multiple of nature lives
       In dying daily to Ego-------Forgives!

Then I saw neither black, white, red nor green,
But only insolence and heard him scream:
"Get away from us! You Freak! Reprobate!"
Then with his cane, knocked him down--oh such hate!

Top hat and tails perched with pride by the door
Assisting the dilatant he adored.
Snow was a gossamer curtain all 'round.
Vision obscured even steps on the ground.

       Lights came from nowhere as they crossed the street,
       Aimed for the dilatant--innocent, sweet.

Watching I saw from the shadows immerge
Sprinting like 'Coldstream Guard'--out past the curb,
That same man, pushing the dilatant fair
Out of harms way as he flew in mid-air.

Emerging unscathed from the ice and snow:
"Who was that man? Tell me! I want to know!"
The crowd huddled 'round like a football team
Gawking with questions of what they had seen.

       A donor card was his only ID.
       No name--just a wish--was all they could see.

Donor card cashed in...Science and query...
A grave in an obscure cemetery,
With small unadorned head-marker amends:
"Greater love has no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends."

deborah burch©

*For Michael's "No Names on This Love Contest"

Copyright © Deborah Burch

Details | Couplet | |


Some lives are like a stone quickly skipping over the ponds top, forever tossed.
My life is below the surface trying to reach upward with each breathe lost.
But there is still beauty, deep down here in the great depths below…
For the solitude holds me in its grip as I dwell with what I know.

My occasional trips to the surface leave me vastly wanting more…
Still, my life below the surface doesn’t scare me as it did, once before.
And the breaths will come when given, as my life continues to flow.
True it is dark but beauty lingers, everywhere the currents move below.

At times, the surface reflections seem surreal, as if it’s a place not to go.
Comfort comes more and more to my soul, as the deeper I glide below.
Here I dwell within myself, with words, and thoughts, that carry me along.
Perhaps I have found where I truly belong, as I sing my siren songs.

Copyright © Carol Eastman

Details | Couplet | |

Truth of Luck

"THE whole truth and nothing but the truth"

I have never failed or cheated, on any test I took.
Though I have taken best guesses upon one look,
I know I was a nerd, I read everything in every book.
Maybe that is why now reading is not part of my nook.
Poetry is the only thing I can handle by hook or crook.
I would have to read a recipe if I was going to cook.
Maybe there was one test that I almost failed, I took.
It would have been English, which I passed in a rook.
Now the only thing mostly I read is a manual book.
Except for poetry, which I read out loud, upon my first look,
Not that I am very smart, I guess luck is what I took.
Truth is, if it were not for luck, I would be a closed book.

written by
Cecil Hickman

this was my quest:
Cecilia, how about a truthful question!!!! have you ever totally flunked out on a test, or cheated on a test... I want the whole truth and nothing but the truth, in a poetic way... p.s... make your answer fun as can be... I think limericks, or couplets would do your question perfct..always..pd

Copyright © cecil hickman

Details | Couplet | |


When you pluck a flower, the tree remains silent                                                              When you remove a leaf, it reposes to relent

When you climb over, it shields                                                                             When you sever a branch, it yields 

When you harvest the fruits, it doesn’t demur                                                             When you cut a portion, it doesn’t murmur

When you replant, it don’t quit                                                                                  When you cut the whole tree, it is quiet

For the tree treats you, as its’ master!                                                                                So your needs, happily it does cater!!

By silence, it symbolizes surrender                                                                                     It silently shows a noble order

The tree, to its’ master, contently admit                                                                                         Like the tree, to your Master, learn to solemnly submit!

Above poem is adapted from the eBook “WHEN DESTINY DATES! AND OTHER POEMS ON LIFE ” by Mr.V.Muthu manickam. Copyright is held by V.Muthu manickam.


Details | Couplet | |

There is no spoon

When the sun has set like a ball of fire
colors like a funeral pyre

crescent moon in deep blue sky
indigo blue that sears the eye

crickets start their monotonous beat
praying in the sultry heat

hand in hand and heart to heart
infants waken with a start

old man takes his dying breath
soul escapes his body's death

spiders cross doorways with their web
a work of art so filled with dread

the rapping on the midnight door
the ghost who's there was here before

a child cries out, a nightmare dreamed
realities blur and rip the seams

what may appear as solid fusion
is just an agreed upon illusion.

Copyright © Danielle White

Details | Couplet | |

Shadows and Light

I'd rather be the moonlight and stare at the sea all day, then come morning, by the sunlight, like a shadow be chased away. I would rather be the sunlight and dance all day on the sea, then come morning, by the dawn's light, as a shadow be made to flee. Than to break a vow I make to you, my love - to spurn uncertainty. As everything in life is transient, dear, there is no permanency. And someday, love, I know we'll well see, that this is all too true, the old fades to the shapeless past, as will my love for you.

Copyright © Paul Allen

Details | Couplet | |

My Honesty

Do you ever think of tomorrow and wish you had a glance?
Tell me if you had a crystal ball would you take a chance?

Do you ever think of yesterday, a song you used to sing?
Embracing all the memories, joy and pain they would bring

In the space of your today, up underneath your skin
Do you find a certain comfort the one that’s born with-in?

There was a time in my life I really couldn’t stand myself
I was so confused as to what a man should hold as wealth

Every life has a turning point as it teeters to and fro
And sometimes it is very hard to know which way to go

There is no way to excuse the choices that I have made
And I’m the one who is to blame for prices I have paid

There is nobody else to blame for the things I’ve done
It was of my free will I chose, not to follow the chosen one

I rode with demons as they laughed and watched the angels cry
Never even once second-guessing or asking myself why

And I used to be a liar I would lie all the time
Was no end to the excuses come out of these lips of mine

But that was many years ago I’m not that man today
You see I found the Lord and got down on my knees to pray

I said, Lord as you know I’ve wasted every bit of my youth
Today what I’m asking of you Lord, please grant me the gift of truth

I figured truth and honesty would be a good place to start
To try and better understand how the bless the human heart

I quickly learned a lesson, a lesson of untold wealth
The trick to being honest is being honest with yourself

For if your honest with yourself to another you can’t lie
And if you just confess everything you have no reason why

My methods may not always appease but know these words are true
Honesty is the motivating factor behind everything I do

And everybody knows it they don’t even question why
They know I would have lied about myself if I were going to lie

And the reason that I know this I’m very proud to say
Is by the comments left to me just the other day

I just wanted thank everyone for their supportive 
comments the other day. You have became such
an important part of my day I would be lost with
out you guys, God bless, MJ

Copyright © Michael Jordan

Details | Couplet | |

The Gospel According to Me (2006)

It is not what I see but how I feel
It is through expression that bad times heal
Not true for all but certainly for me
We can not forge someone we were never meant to be

Moving a rock that will never budge
He did not put me in any position to ever judge
Our path is our own
In company or alone

There is or there isn’t that’s is your choice
Ignorance will never drown your voice
You will find your way just as it was meant to be
This is the Gospel according to me 

Copyright © R Kumari

Details | Couplet | |


The dead and all they own lie in their box alone 
Covered by sod under the grass beneath their cold gray stones. 

As they lie in the endless dark rotten of meat and bone, 
Free of pain and hate and greed their spirit forever gone. 

I ask if the dead are lonely? Do their ghostly spirits roam? 
Do some dance in glory before the Master's throne?

Why do we rail our graveyards? Dead can neither walk or run. 
While the living find no reason to never again see the sun. 

There seem so many among us rotten of spirit and soul 
I pray for them to find their way before their spirits go. 

For when the box lid slams there is naught left to chance. 
The sharpness of one's faith will punch a ticket for the dance. 

Copyright © Mike Samford

Details | Couplet | |

God's Bouquet

Gazing on the meadow, glowing all a bright with flowers,
I fail to see a blossom wasn’t nurtured by spring showers.

Colors envelop this small world, and none the better be.
We all behold the beauty, as far as eyes can see.

But, for some ugly reason, as some glare upon this planet,
They try to conjure reasons why God placed some people on it.

Let me cut right to the chase, each and every human face
Has a right to their own place, as flowers of the human race.

Copyright © Ray Dillard

Details | Couplet | |


All we are is all we are meant to be.
The sooner you stop wanting more, the happier you will be.

Copyright © Kirstie Fontes

Details | Couplet | |


Oh please don't use the never word
The thought of it is quite absurd

To never having loved at all
Into his arms you may not fall

Instead please say "you can", "you will"
Loves sweet journey is such a thrill

For if you say you never will
Your void in life will never fill...

Copyright © Sharon Ruebel

Details | Couplet | |

Drifting Through The Stars

Looking at the Milky Way, I know I am far, 
far from the high way, I left and you are.
I, for once should have known, the ride and the drift,
cause by what you have shown, be no voyage so swift.

Now that I could touch the dazzling stars you gaze,
should I paint a nebular without the scars of your face?
With a stargazer shining through your hair,
that waves across the universe blown by air.

My senses frozen, my soul feather light,
I feel slow motion, swimming in aurora at night.
Gently thinking, how shall I do it right
to rise knowing, I am your white knight.

When all the black holes vanish or die,
should I unfreeze my senses and fly,
to earth you never said me goodbye,
and show you what I painted in the sky.

Copyright © Hasan Hilmy

Details | Couplet | |

The Library Man

How often do you visit the Library? And what do you see?
I see oceans and seas of books plus a homeless man doing zzz’s..
He’d apparently been reading before, he fell deep asleep.
He can stay there, they say, as long as he doesn’t lie down to sleep.
Sitting up is OK and of course, as long as he doesn’t create a scene.

He’s kind and gracious and a little strange but can debate any role
When he walked over, we had a talk about the devil verses mind control.
Without asking, what he really wanted was someone to buy him lunch.
There’s a McDonalds two doors down from where we were bunched.
I don’t know what I expected when he woke up and looked around.

But when I asked if he was homeless he wasn’t fazed at all.
Yes, I have been for a while, he said, but my boat will soon come in.
And I realized the library is a warm, safe place to relax and to be.
And the librarians seem content to just let him be.
In the end, I was sorry I couldn’t buy him that lunch.

But recently, my abilities to do so had become a little stretched.
I used to buy the books I read… now the library is more my taste.
I just hope if it comes to that… he’ll graciously share this place.
The library even has computers from where you could write.
And the people there are varied and really rather kind.

I’m on the edge but whole family’s once prosperous are already there.
Cheap hotel rooms in even cheaper hotels, once skirted are full.
The jobs don’t pay for anything more. They are: Bitter, Disgruntled, Lost.
Needed are better and more jobs to re-establish the American Dream.
To give them some hope so they can go back there again…
And don’t just act toward them… like they’re your library man…
Give them back their American Dream as best you can.

Voice of Reason Contest

Copyright © Carol Eastman

Details | Couplet | |


Intuition has a forceful voice
It speaks aloud, though makes no noise
No fear, no anger, not hot nor cold
A spiritual encounter within the soul.

Instinct walks a different plain
An experience related, alert refrain
Fear or joy might mark its course
Sharp hidden probes might give it force.

The mental is the strongest link
It controls and rules the way we think
Thought tries to oust out all the rest
It attempts to enforce, what it thinks best.

Emotion’s the spontaneous part
No grid, no goals, no weather charts
If in need to cry, to laugh, or scold
It frees itself from the mental mould.
The physical is oft the one deprived
For the mental takes it for a ride
Don’t drink nor eat, no time to sleep,
All bodily needs are trite and weak.

Life could be a kinder friend
If we’d but listen, and not pretend.
For our pieces should all synchronize
One can’t undermine, the other’s size.

Copyright © Michelle Mac Donald

Details | Couplet | |


Why should I care if sharing my truth causes offense?
In a world of shadow, is it not the one worthwhile defense?

For the Couplets Contest.

Copyright © Timothy Hicks

Details | Couplet | |


No valentine on Valentine's.
I haven't met one yet.
Each year I wait another
for a person I've not met.
There's nothing I've done wrong:
yet waiting is in vain.
And all that's left is hope
that love's a ball and chain.

Copyright © Trevor McLeod

Details | Couplet | |


Always pulling rabbits 
From the bottom of my hat,
Always looking forwards,
Never looking back.
Like to keep you laughing,
Laughing through the night,
Keeps our broken hearts at bay,
Hidden from the light.

more of my poems at:

Copyright © ness tillson

Details | Couplet | |



Yesterday is the day from which you came
Tomorrow is  the destination you will never gain 
Seeking tomorrow thinking it is near
But at 12:01 AM is tomorrow really here
Time shows you just came from yesterday 
And stepped into times grasp of what is now today 
Once again you find tomorrow is not here
Just wait 24 hours - time whispers in your ear 
And then tomorrow will appear 
Time of course is playing its eternal joke
For again at time appointed - tomorrow is up in smoke
Time it should be known is an unawakened dream
With no more substance than ripples in a stream
Never ask time about future intentions
Future is another of time's jokester inventions

Copyright © Elizabeth Smith

Details | Couplet | |

Happy is a Child

True joy is to hold a newborn child Their God's gift to make you smile you'll never find more earthly worth then two souls joining who give birth Grandpa's pride and Grandma's idle for these new parents it's their child To hold, love, teach, nurture and guide They do it all with a smile and pride All of the fear, worry, happiness and joy Unequaled by any store bought toy The richest people, you'll see around Are playing with children on the ground Long life, for a child, to breath earths fresh air Hear the echo, as all repeat the same prayer
Contest entry for "Children in rhtme"

Copyright © Tom Larrow