Best Philosophy Poems

Some of us are secretive at first. We hide our poetry’s soul self, 
gently letting her peep out; sometimes regretting it immediately.
Fearful of critiques from...

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Over the top lads, for old Blighty! Hold the colours high!
Say a little prayer for me, for this summer day we die.
My brothers from the...

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When hard times come they sit a spell,
Like kin folk come to stay
A-packin' troubles, pets an' kids
That always get ‘n your way.
It's drought an' flood,...

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Who but God could paint the evening sky
And use a brush that is a fiery torch?
Tonight, the garish sunset makes me high
In awe, I stand...

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Hourglass

Sand falls
Through the glass
Love falls
Within the past
Memories dance
They never last
Head in my hands
As I stare overhead
At the hourglass


Falling Down Stairs

Stairs broken
Wheels unspoken
I fell
Grasping for air
Are...

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The Park Bench

I wish I was a poet
With magical words
To make people see all of the absurd
Tears fly, paintings in pastel die

When we look into...

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have you not heard me?

borne upon the air at dusk, dancing ... I have whispered you in a million voices
    still, you...

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In my silent sanctuary,
my poetic garden blooms like sun kissed seeds,
carefully placed under a quilt of soil,
sprinkled with holy water.

In the vividness of morning mist,
spring...

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sometimes
we are afraid to jump
but we take the leap

sometimes
when we fall deeply
it's not our limbs injured

sometimes
what is meant for us
hurts too much

sometimes
nothing makes sense
confusion reigns...

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The Library of Trust and Hope
The Bank of Trust and Hope

(Cant decide on title, so feel free to pick or suggest one)

She was all but...

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The farm
     and the porch light hums 
the sound of another 
orange dawn.

Burnt up – crisp
     ...

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My shadow flirts with the sun
As I caress the darkness
We are one and separate
As my shadow smiles
Anxiety suffocates me
The shadow will soon fade
I shall die
One...

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The Scarlet Letter H



Two Windows                    The...

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All lovely words
when understood

All so misconstrued
silence envelopes our delusions

Desire, we lust the attention
at the forfeit of philosophy

Love, we crave at Kings expense
	at times
		Sacrificing those whom...

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The ranch on which I hang my hat, though short on most the frills,
Is thirteen sections, give or take, of rugged trails an’ hills.
We call...

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