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Epic Philosophy Poems | Epic Poems About Philosophy

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

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Details | Ballad | |


(Groom speaks...)
In this world are things to contemplate.
Therefore, life can be complicated.
Stairs we must climb to overcome conflict.
Heaven is an open door of realities.
As my adoration of you is metaphoric, 
I am blessed that you feel the same.
We are together as one.
Our passion flows.
Our ardor is aglow.

(Bride speaks...)
In this life are confrontations.
We must address our demons to form our inner being.
Nothing is more than the characteristic of self-worth.
I see yours darling and it is me.
May I be shallow in the passion I feel?
I adore you.
I am yours.
Let’s share this with the world.

(Groom speaks...)
I asked you to marry me.
You said yes.
My head start spinning.
I felt the depth in my chest.
Our marriage vows have been written.
Our big day has come.
I am your man.
You are my woman.

(The Groom says his written vows.…)
Complicated the world may be.
Our time together will be cherished by the passion we feel.
You are my paradise and my sunshine.
I am yours until the end of time.
Our life, as one, is intertwine with all aspects.
As a tree grows, so does our lust.
As a river flows, so does our thirst.
As a meadow brooks the crows, so does our fascination accept our conundrums.
I will ardor you forever.

(The Bride says her written vows.…)
Complicated the world is.
Our time together we cherish.
You are my sunshine and my paradise.
I am yours until the end of time.
Our life, as one, interweaves.
Life aspects will challenge each.
Our fervor defeats all our troubles.
As landscape flourish, so does our lust.
As lea bravado, so does our thirst.
As a meadow brooks the crows, so does our infatuation withstand any rival.
Our ardor is dominance.
Our ardor is exuberance.

(Bride speaks...)
I adore you my man!

(Groom speaks...)
And I, adore you my woman!

(Music continues to play in the background until the symphony ends.)

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker

Details | Rhyme | |


Sad Heart, now thou art wither’d from the Sun,
What man, or god, will near thee run?
Wrought in twist like branches in Tempests' gasp,
What Comfort, or Gauze, shall be near to grasp?
True ones begotten are the ones now Rotten
And the ones now Rotten will never be forgotten
They are merely sad remains of assiduous Tears
That have been meddl’d with and tatter’d Raw throughout the years

And thou, cruel Mind, that sat’st still thru toiling trail of Night;
Must dream your broken Dreams; thou’rt a sanely flight!
Can thou extinguish passions of Fire, Disease, or Rain?
—tho thy distinguish’d influence trains to abstain
Thy Remnants brought to debris in thy Empty street,
Devour’d by Vultures, their bestow’d beaks entreat
Merely are they cleaning an inexhaustible Mess
Alas! Leaving thy rudiments of Identity to redress....

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal

Details | Free verse | |

The Day That Died Forever

When I am Colder,Older and then alone...
I will collect the sky on my own...
When the art has faded and the days then fade-
when everyone has gone away...

I may finally see what never was saw
.....ahhhhhhhhhhhhh............... the quiet sky

The unlit room which bares my end...shows the flashes of my pains my joys and sins.
This life has been a strange one since the curtains were drawn
These paper and plastic figures have clouded the dawn

I was once younger,foolish,and obsessed with truth
Now I am bitter,sour,dour faced with my heart under shoe

The children were all searching or lost in a crowd
All weeds in a garden...growing vile and foul

Though beauty was sold it never came true
Obsessions and vanity have traveled safe through

Materials and poison and everything lost
have been burned in the fires or lost in the frost

I stand face to mirror tearing my being apart
Winding thoughts of love,pain,god,and art

As the sun sets and the darkness grows
I too shall follow this pattern in tow

Death has a friendly hand and a pretty face
She has given me comfort as I leave this place

The wars have occurred,humanity's lost
Souls have been burnt in the fire or lost in the frost

Day was Life,Night is Death

And the latter has given counsel on my final steps

Copyright © Winter Wallace

Details | Rhyme | |

Nature's Kiss~

Connecting with nature
Walking along I find peace…
Autumn leaves surround me
Crunching rhythms at my feet
I Step inside harmony ~

Brown leaves start swirling
A Tiny tornado forming
Admiringly…I stand glowing… 
A mighty wind blows off my hat
Quickly…I wonder …what was that?

As I hold onto my head
It blows away end over end
Nature playing games instead 
My gracious hat…ahead it blew
I ran after it fast and true~

Blown up against a Willow 
Floppy hat blocked indeed
Tiny raindrops starting to fall 
Cool drops kiss my cheek 
Nature’s spirits forever speak ~


Copyright © Jane Bowen

Details | I do not know? | |

1-15-10 Commands

Smile. Laugh. Why must you command yourself?
Dont cry. Dont show them your organs. 
Its all a lie, isnt it?
The very fabrics of life. 
Do they see pain upon your face?
Does the sadness seep through?
Tears crystalize in your eyes. 
Your too brave to risk wiping them away,
and not brave enough to let them pour. 
Blink them away. 
Good, you follow commands. 
Do you know how to be a leader?
Do you close your eyes and walk?
Trust me. Follow the sound of my voice.
Will i lead you safely? Dont be so sure. 
We are all liars at our root. 
Push your self forward.

Copyright © Jay Loveless

Details | Free verse | |

Moments In Time

The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark

The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been 
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark. 

Copyright © John Paluszek

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 | |


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 | Free verse | |

Carbon Monoxide (CO) Week 2: Carbon Cabrona

Smokeless inhales hurt.
I cough tar on my shirt.
As my black lungs breathe,
Shrilling exhales wheeze.

Falls me
Down to
My knees.

The nicotine cracks
My will.
My composure

I want 
I must 
Have this.

I sink
The brink
Of madness.

Copyright © Hyle Chu

Details | Free verse | |

Carbon Monoxide -CO- Week 3: Talkin' 'bout My 'noxide

The steady pull
of temptation--
a tease on
my resolution.

When I can sleep, 
I take what dreams 
afford me.
In these dreams,
my 'noxide comes
to ward me.

Her smoke is an invitation.
my conscience
falls for
the con science
of my imagination.
I give in
and reality spins.

Between the sleeps, 
I lie in sanity. 
I wonder:
Did I give into 
my humanity?
did I'd err?
Is that
smoke in the air?

Copyright © Hyle Chu

Details | Free verse | |

Carbon Monoxide (CO) Week 1: O.D.A.A.T.

Chain smoke until
I'm in care of the CO.
There's one left, still.
I smoke it really slow.
"It's the end," I anticipate
As the last inch evaporates.

I can't get
Over it;
It's over before 
I know it.
Butt, I can't quit.
I'm possessed with this 
Obsession; I'm addicted.

My lungs have oxygen,
Yet I'm suffocating inside.
I can't breathe again
Without my 'noxide.

Copyright © Hyle Chu

Details | Lyric | |

Sgt Griffin

A sorte protege os audazes
Yes a sergeant rode in here as always with
A daring pair of rangers that made us just
Go pray it's back to Fashion Day because
Baby we won't have to pass away, oh no
To the reality of a fascist state

It's hard it's envious of me to see you apart from me baby
Yeah into so many things that aren't a part of me maybe
It's the coat of arms oh stitched by those that harm
That cause alarm
Or the green card rejected by the armies of God be-
Cause they frost The Fall and that's

That's just to save us all
And the justice saves us all

And the style is designed
And with the sign of a Griffin
The symbolism of a lion of wisdom
Where the kings have wings
Oh don't you see
Yeah my envy of these things that separate you and me

So the poet in the philosopher
He said that he'd
He'd throw us the thrill of a cross but first
Put on a gauntlet, in a British accent "lad you can't let
Oh the truth bring out the worst and let it get
Yeah the best of you" so

We'll catch it without the hurt but
Still left with a loss of words 'cause

The style is designed
And with the sign of the Griffin
The symbolism of a lion of wisdom
Where the kings have wings
Oh don't you see
Yeah my envy of these things that separate you from me
My envy of things that separate you and me

Copyright © Criss Jami

Details | Epic | |

All we need a pot in one piece

All we need a leader 
Guide us become one of us
Make us sincere against any killing
Protects our family to live our destiny
All we need a world leader one of us making in one piece

Making it boiling it
 Be part of it
 In taming is music to our ears
 Every morning sliding our badges
 Making our leaving gone in sinful slips

 Only hope rests pray our best
 Every morning sinking reality 
 Surge become more innovative
 Making us in a pot all sincere 

 All we need a commitment in changing rules
 Where money plays reigns in market
 To adapt them after turns our sake
 It may be time to think learn to leave as one piece

Copyright © reyhan yucebay

Details | Free verse | |

the art of persuasion.

She and the handsome gentleman finalized the contract, and he gently placed 
the antique pearl necklace into the palm of her tiny hand.  As he walked away,
she fantasized about making love with him, for he possessed both charm and 
exceptional good looks; he certainly was enchanting...thick, black wavy hair,grey-
green eyes...tall...muscular ~ oh, those muscles...all over his tanned body...head
to toe.

But she wondered about that limp as he walked away, depending on a heavy 

after all, an eternity of beauty and power in exchange for 

The evening of the deed was a frigid six degrees, and there was a dead smell of
the sun.  She stayed late after work, waiting anxiously until everyone had gone.
Finally, he was alone in his office, so she placed the pearl necklace around her
fragile neck and unbuttoned her red, silk blouse so to reveal her sexy red

She entered the office, and gently leaned over him from behind; he was aroused
by the scent of her "Red Door" cologne...his favorite, and his senses were even
more heightened as he turned around and observed her erect breasts speaking
in a language only he understood.  With his large hands, he slowly explored her
thighs, making his way up her black skirt.

"You have beautiful legs."
"You think so, huh?"

They kissed, and the necklace brushed his chest; he didn't feel well, at all.  He 
was hot, and his body began its metamorphosis, retaining a grayish
tinge....then blackish...


then, disappeared along with all omens of the deed.

She walked over to the black wrought iron mirror and smiled; her wrinkles were
gone...vanished...just as promised; she was ten years younger.

The windows began sweating, and the handsome stranger appeared.

"I have one more assignment for you."
"But we made a deal, one soul."

She began to feel peculiar, and as she viewed herself in the black mirror, she 
began aging...ten years...twenty...thirty...she pulled out a large clump of thin, white

The room darkened from his moonly mind.

"My dear, the other yours."

Copyright © Tamiviolet Manchas

Details | Free verse | |

My Awakening

When the world is fast asleep not me, I think and think and think how can I be more unique more I think, and think and think how will they remember me? how can I change it, more differently? how can I push and challenge me? now that my mind is unlocked and free the new sun rises and startles me my trance is broken, my awakening The new dawn rises, surprises surprises thankful to the twin gods, Isis and Osiris for removing all the sins of my past lies that was bringing me down to my demise The balance, my chalice, now undisturbed its order is hanging by my good word I do not wish to go unheard but who is there to hear me when my thoughts are stirred? In a sense of peace drop to my knees look up to the heavens they're smiling down on me how can I repay them? what is my creed? I rise now awakened revived in my belief.

Copyright © Bj Fard

Details | Carpe Diem | |

Why Vote?

why are our tax dollars being spent on crippled
and paralyzed drug hoods?
why are we supporting teenage girl having babies 
and not trying to do any good?
how Is It possible for foreigners 
to get supplemental security income?
and where Is all the money supposedly coming from?

yet, when we the American citizens 
who have worked and struggled all our lives 
attempt to get any assistance from the government 
we only get a lot of bull and some jive
what in the world could the politicians 
have been thinking about?
when we have families right here in America
having to do without
Is It political policy 
over social responsibility?

the American Government aspires
to be the world's police force
by deploying our young men and women into war zones
without any recourse
but who Is to blame for making all these
life altering decisions?
It's not those who don't vote
for they have no voice nor position

now Is the time for all Americans
to step up to the plate
make your voice and choice be known
before It's too late
we need to stop this madness 
and unnecessary spending
call the politicians on to the carpet
and bring about some ending
Is It political corruption 
versus social reconstruction?

so just get out and vote
and make your choice be known
put who you want in positions of power
with ideals like your own
It's time to take a stance 
and get back our power
be more socially and politically conscious
at the voting hour

Copyright © louise nelson

Details | Ballad | |

What are your Words of Poetry meant for Oh Sage

The wrothful man has regotiated his saliency,
The humble man has neglected his post of "Your Excellency",
Let the pirate look through my one eye of transpareency,
Hope my superman sings along to those dracula's frequencies,
These are not Bulls written in pure fantasy,
Our fleur-de-lis and its very ecstacy,
Not meant for agilely minded Perverts,
Spliffs meant for Godly minds,exhalling Wisdom and Truth.. Selah

Reading to the salient ears of age,
Your teeth gleaning this vast ears of corn,
Seeing men's rage shorten their years,
Or what your ladies who smiled at my no-beard-style have become,
Easy skanking is what my ears hear,
A tip of God given talents,
Many a quail showering my Sweet Heart with "Works so excellent",
God breathes his creative spirit to minds We call "Salient", Selah

Copyright © Anthony Edmond

Details | Bio | |

Podium Monarch

The brilliant propagator spoke in rhyme carrying my mind back in time in awe this 
master-orator captivates me ecstatic and frenzied hypnotic and mesmerizing 
absolutely astonishing. His authentic rhetoric could persuade the masses a 
genius and intellectual spectacle, impeccable words that rattle my nerves 
charismatic qualities preferred ambitious he conquered my sense clever and 
constant prophetic and uncanny. Deliverer of outstanding effects undoubtedly a 
shrill diction none the less, a repetitious tongue he used to arise emotion and 
manipulate devotion his dramatic performance would manifest power to the 
point of spiritual rhythm.The psyche of such a speaker a ruler not a pleader with 
such anguish he reached out to his awed audience and wiped away any 
negative faculties still burning inside them. This mere man is intoxicating the 
reciprocal respect between he and his listeners leaves them numb and 
overwhelmed an honor greatly upheld. Superlative speeches with tremendous 
will a concept unreal but to his followers a thrill, fanatical man of words on 
educated grounds his legacy is bound decorations of noble peace is with in his 
reach. Paramount of virtue in the mind of this modest man a gift to our time.

Copyright © Cole Beck

Details | I do not know? | |

Keep My Faith

Lord, I believe in You and myself,
With You I can do almost anything.
Even if I'm overweight...
I believe You'll keep me alive until the day
You want me back home with you.
I'm sorry for my sins
And all of us are imperfect humans:
Debating about beliefs, greedy thieves,
And everything else you hate.
So please forgive all of us and open the gate
To Your Heavenly Kingdom.
Have Your Son save us all.
Sometimes I believe I don't deserve You
And Your Promise for Eternity,
But Your Son's words reassure me.
I feel scared of the destruction in Your Revelation,
But remember You'll keep me safe
If I just forever keep my faith.

Copyright © Marissa Faries

Details | Epic | |

Contagious Judas

Imperfect tendencies emotional scars suited amber falling stars, 
paranoid blame oblivion shame beautiful southern waltz in cinematic
stubborn fault. Seven missing memories method praised shroud of shade
innocent mask guilty if you ask precious paths of poisoned passion raged
and belligerent as we fade. Euphoric flawed charade diluted in constant rain
unique perception of secret aim comfortable locked in chain, conjure magic 
trance surrounded authentic pinnacle devastating interval. Revered prophet of 
past impaired by moonlights last search your infinite glass testify on millions of 
preaching lies nightmares erased intervention with in Judas faith truth be told 
face to face time is haste.

Copyright © Cole Beck

Details | I do not know? | |

Hopeless and Filled With Heartache

Tell me why doe’s the wind blow,
When it seems that almost anything can over power this boat,
The waves rise slowly and surely a storm is on its way,
A day of innocence equating beauty,
For tomorrow may fall,
And today is already gone,
I've decided that tonight is the night,
That I set love aside,
This whole time we're provoking each other in a blinding violence,
The ship rocked and I plummeted into the sea,
And you dove after me,
But now you know that I’m cold,
The mast snaps and the ship floods,
We wash up on a shore and you seek us shelter,
Crying out my name you try to resuscitate me, 
Keep your hands on my chest and wait for a beat,
I'll keep your trust in my arms and pain in my feet
We will all fall in the end.
As the time to rise approaches
No one will take responsibility
So tell me why does the wind blow?

In this poem i give credit to 4 bands 
for assisting me with the words 
I could not find.

1.Our Last Night
2.As I Lay Dying
3.Dance Gavin Dance
4.As Blood Runs Black

I Hope you enjoyed it

Copyright © Garreth Turner

Details | Free verse | |

Generic Minds

generic minds listen to generic music
have generic thoughts that are unknowingly abusive
watch generic things talk about generic things
gee this generic *****is spreading like a disease
better get your flu shot 
thats what they said to me
a suicidal vaccine 
a subliminal killing spree
its contagious and the outrageous
thing about it is that the people are blind in an eye
that they didn't even know they had
it's sickening to watch these clueless civilians 
inside the looking glass
with nightmares of being free
without a key to their mind
for it is trapped in the frequency
in the illusion of time
bathed in our universe
killing all that refuse to see
those that admit to hypocracy
or see the message in hip hop
how cant you see
the message in the lyrics that
bring adolescents to their knees
from bullet wounds conflicting their flesh
contradicting that they're the best
but the songs keep telling them that they dont need no rest
that they dont wanna go home
that they should ride alone
with the gat as their only companion
and so the only path they choose is the one that they're told
until they grow old and hope turns to a window pane
inside a window pane, until all they feel is pain
they realize that the music itself is ashamed
so whats to look up to
when you cant even speak when you cant even walk because you look so bleak
your eyes are sunken from the tv you're infested with the dee zees
now its too late to turn around and live for your conscious
so when youre screaming oh please
close your eyes and bring your mind to life
open your eyes for the first time
and never wonder why
since the answer this entire time
has been inside
and you better find it before you die
you dont want your soul to be in a pool with all the others
a buncha brothers missing their mothers
but only seeing strangers
only feeling the haters
wishing they would have used their minds when they had them
and now its too late,
now it's time for another new born fate to grab them

Copyright © Green Trees

Details | Rhyme | |

Don't Drop the Soap

I bet you're out of hope.

Dude, don't drop the soap.

I bet you find it hard to cope.

Dude, you're crude and rude,

And full of dirt and oil.

Wash yourself clean,

Because you are mean,

I don't wanna be on your team.

You hung yourself from a short rope.

When you shower,

Dude, don't drop the soap.

Next time you'll treat someone right.

Next time you'll wanna do it too.

Next time maybe you'll wanna live the life that's true.

Maybe you'll stop being so cut throat,

But in the meantime,

Dude, don't drop the soap.


Copyright © Nicole Sharon Brown

Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: II

Invisible chap
Bearded egomaniac
Probably not real

Copyright © Dan Keir

Details | Verse | |

I Don't Hate America

I Don’t Hate America

I like the country I live in
That doesn’t mean I have to sing their songs
to prove that sh@!.
That doesn't mean that 
I can just can’t get over the fact that
they murdered the people who built it
America was dedicated to a proposition that
“all men are created equal, except
for women, indians and blacks

The white men were just fine is what we were told 
but what about those who were stolen that never made it over to NEW WORLD?
The ones that were thrown overboard and
those who died from sickness while in transport

Remember those who were born into slavery and never even knew what freedom was before their physical bodies left
and people like Thomas Jefferson
He understood that slavery was wrong but did not free his own until his death
What about those who beaten senseless and burned, and hanged,  
All while screaming “Nigger" What’s your new name?
Oh how soon do we forget…
That’s why I despise that word and
I don’t care who it is that uses it
#u$k that slavery sh@!
And #u$k that flag b@%ch!
#u$k you America because you’ve always made things hard .
So don’t look at me strange when I show those songs disregard and those fake ass patriotic undertones about how we are the land of the free
more like the land of the captured and the Home of the Slaves, see

I don’t’ hate America
I can be and do and go as I please
But, then I remember the poor people they injected with disease 
They thought they were getting free health care but the doctor is giving them syphilis 

I remember the natives of this land
They slaughtered and labored them to work for freedom in their own land 

I remember the Civil War 
where we were a country divided by the Mason Dixon Line
The north and the south of the same country at war to save lives
I don’t hate America
This is my home 
But I refuse to let the things that 
my ancestors endured during the struggle of building SUCH A FINE COUNTRY be forgotten
It’s 2012 and the politicians still plottin to find a way to take away the black vote 
It’s the same shit, but now they just don’t use the noose to choke the life out of souls  
I’m so tired of the constitution and it’s loop holes, and amendments, and acts, and laws
This just proves that man can’t govern themselves because even with all these rules we constantly fall into the black hole deeper and deeper
I don’t hate America
I just choose to not take part in its little song and dance
I pledge my allegiance to God 
and continue to write and lose myself in my poetic trans 

Copyright © humble b

Details | Rhyme | |


What is a fight without a cause? Is it just a hidden affair that has no voice? Only knowledge that cannot be divulged and when discussed, the topic is irrelevant. Mentality is a place of iniquity. Mediums are designed by civil engineers to place mentally captured vestibules; those, which will manifest identities. You can hear their mundaneness in their conversation. You do not want to speak to a naked wall. As a result, they enter your vocal environment. For that reason, you speak out. ___________________________________|
penned on october 24, 2014!

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker

Details | Epic | |

Scent of Paddy Flower

Scent Of Paddy Flower

                                   By Goutam Hazra


My father told me 
first time 
I was just a boy then,
“Follow the scent of paddy flower
move with the wind it carries,
surely you will go to heaven.”

I remember
he would catch 
fistful of wind
bring near to my face
and wonder,
“Isn’t it godly!”

Magically, opened his hand
but I never felt
what scent he meant.
Days of kind rain

“Son, see the misty wind
rushing all over the paddy field
comes every year
to drink the scent of paddy flower.”

Mere as a boy
I could see only
tides of a green plane
touching my little finger
and racing far… too far.
I would ask  
“Where have they gone?”
Smiled my father 
and said
“Did not you listen,
they are going to heaven,
call the goddess then,
‘come goddess dear’
we all are ready with paddy flower.”

Curious was my face,
“Papa, then?”

“Goddess will arrive smiling
her feet will be here
Seeing a pot in her hand
all those paddy flowers
delighted, will open their mouth more wider
and life will be poured…”

“Where these flowers come from?”

Remained my father smiling
speaking all his mind
looking high at sky
asked me to see there
spoke he again.

“Rain, rain, kind monsoon rain
on the first day of its shower
kind rain would ask me to come here
with bagful of paddy seeds,
‘let seeds be spread all over,
let its eternal relation with soil
be the fertilizer’
when all said is done
waiting rain 
starts showering its kind
make visible hiding life in the abyss of seed.
Happy wind changes color
being green all around
waits for the day
when the wind would smell the scent of paddy flower.”

Days passed by,
kind rain was still in waiting
sometimes hidden beyond horizon
or simply making sun blind with its smoky face
and whenever wind said,
‘Dry I’m now’
quenched the thirst.

Someday wind played naughty with sun
asked kind rain to make it misty
and with brushes of sun rays 
painted a rainbow on the face of east sky.

Wait was over
green field blossomed with flowers
and wind said,
“Fill in my heart
with scent of flower
I shall bring life…”

Happy was my father’s voice
“Rain, rain, kind monsoon rain
said so
green wind brining life 
did so
scent of paddy flower
is made so.
Bare footed be here
print your soul
in the dust of this soil
kind rain will come
green wind being there
life will be yours 
with the scent of paddy flower.”
Cruel entropy

How old was I then
nine or ten
my father looked up
up to the sky
again and again
for a month long
only to see 
change of sky’s color
from the color of a summer day to a long humid night.
Dry wind cried at last
over my father’s sweating body
“Rain, rain O kind rain, where have you gone.”

One day sudden
kind rain came again.
Cried to my father
“Why no green wind came this year
from ocean 
to bring me here.
Desert wind why
dry my breath
seeds you have sown
how could I then
enliven with my rain.”

many question
my father had asked the rain.

Short-lived, hurried rain could spell its last breath,
“I am not that rain 
as was your friend,
I am the curse of dying forest
I am the ghost of all pollution
I am born out of acid weather…”

Who knew, it left for where?

My father cried 
As kind rain left him alone
hiding in a dry wind’s bone.

My father was still
going every morning
asking the soil
in vain
if soil could alone
make the paddy flowers to be born.

Year passed by,
came back the time, 
for green wind to bring kind rain.

Rain came one day.

But why
as a cloudburst
roaring always
pouring unwanted
like an unkind monster
flooded misery
in the life of a simple farmer?

Dumb remained my father
for days together
sad was his voice at last,
“Run away, son, run away from here,
sky rain wind
river village land;
thread of this garland
who cuts it
go, stop now there hand.”

Draught and flood,
uncertainty of life 
changed my mind 
as of a farmer’s son.
Books, studies and education
reasons, truth and compassion
might have had fulfilled my father’s mission.

Does not this civilization
converts us 
as the products to do more production.
Run, run and run 
run ahead of time
let be it, at the cost of inhaling killer tension,
stress taking  over your life.
Insomnia, cholesterol or cynicism
is our success’s companion? 
‘A’ is shaped as ‘B’
and ‘B’ is sold as ‘C’.
but I found the basic
what it remain
as life’s supreme conviction 
‘simply a fist full of paddy
and its grain’.

Scent of life

So here, I am again
standing in front of this green plane
searching for the shadow of my father.
Green wind surrounds my existence
I can see the dance of those bunches.
My mind whispers to my ear
echoes those words of my father, 
“Bare footed be here
print your soul
in the dust of this soil
rain will come
green wind being there
life will be yours 
with the scent of paddy flower.”

I never felt so,
what I smell now 
is the scent of paddy flower.

Copyright © Goutam Hazra

Details | Epic | |


If forever is a moment in time
An’ my life, a blink of an eye
Its still worth the fight
To make it through the night
Cause the nights added together
Make up most of my life
And even that in forever
Is just a glance, just a glimpse
Of what forever might be like….

Copyright © Tinbit Daniel

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Becoming Something More

Into dream, unto life 
To love and then, back again
What shall be discover

It’s the yearning 
For beyond 
The unknowing amid next to other

And when I do partake
I reach further 
Over bridges into another

Thus, for me, I am never ending
Always wading in
To shores upon beginning

Sensing each of nuisance 
And its unrelenting offer

So I am…
Able to love, to live 
And to dream abound

Past the last of moments 
That time has stored

Being me 
Becoming something more

Copyright © Michael Smith

Details | Epic | |

If Visions Mattered

I  set sight on visions 
Picture little if visions
Matter ,i paint a photo 
To vision my pictures
My vision has lost it way to my tongue
I speak what I see,visualise or better yet picture
My vision set scenes like am Picasso
As I speak out my words in a Pablo
More or less a parable of my words painting 
A vision of Picasso ,a pain tainting

Is it a beautiful vision that i now draw 
Sharp words sketching fine black &white 
Lines of how the vision begins 
Curves and edges on how 
I flip and toss these metaphors
And I colour the corners of my visualised picture
With idioms and shade it with similes
As it is similar to the photo of my vision
I speak fluently with coloured thoughts 
Penciled on my incomplete picture 
As I have my vision destroyed

For I set sight on visions 
Picture little if visions
Matter,as I have less of a picture
More of a photo
Photo my visions
Picture my visions
Spoke of my visions 
Frame my visions with
Synonyms, antonyms
Or shorten my picture with acronyms
Then the picture becomes and is less of a vision
The absence of words paints an empty picture

Words as powerful , dreams as wonderful
Actions performed, as visions are destroyed
destructed and demolished 
Words conquer, visions follow

I  set sight on visions 
Picture little if visions
Matter, i paint a photo 
To vision my picture 
Without these words I can not paint my visions.

Copyright © Vuyolethu Sithatu