Best Existentialist Poems
What is life?
Euphonies, cacophonies and chromosomal anomalies
intertangled destinies and illusive methodologies
Occurring in obscure dimensionless time
Millenniums fertilized to create the sublime
Perceived by ideations so pure it would seem
To exist beyond mind and to all in between.
Lingering as lore to an all distant past
There is no redo, there is no redraft.
The questions, the answers so rightly proclaimed
are composed and transported by thoughts still unnamed.
In limited struggle, the moments unspent
Become the result of a living lament.
In what and wherefore and why and with whom
we unwrap our existence in this paradoxical womb
Can we find meaning, a clear sign that we see
inclusive to all, this existential decree.
From naught made of all and conceived in a star,
we landed on earth, neither near nor afar
For reasons unknown and telegnosis unclear,
These salient projections are all jockeyed by fear
We stand in the way of unknowing surmise
And find the world is still much a surprise.
A quest overwhelming in distressed sanity
For answers not known play havoc to vanity.
To end these remarks with a questionable phrase
all becomes known in 'one of these days.'
SYNOPSIS
From the moment of birth to when we die, life presents us with dilemmas and questions that amuse, titillate and confuse us. As we get older, we realize that what we thought we knew was all pure conjecture. This poem is meant to reflect the myriad of disjointed thoughts that have run through my mind throughout the years. The "why me?" and "what is my purpose in life?" questions usually are met with ambiguity and incoherence.
Many of us are beleaguered with these conceits and although some find solace in religion, for people like me it becomes an existential never ending struggle.
CAK 8-18-2013
my voice may not be loud
I may not stand out in the crowd
not game changer
but a strange stranger
that's me
others have a louder roar
other wings, a higher soar
but, listen...there's more
epic doesn't negate my tale
Nor does fame make it pale
watch out for me
I date destiny
in my little sphere
I oscillate
making waves that vindicate
purposefully planted
I speak the
unique
a different take
a different shake
awake
faking fake
I'm real
sometimes a whisper
sometimes a shout
or in monotone metronome meter
I...get...the...truth...out
influence is what I'm about
silence is not golden
when happiness is stolen
catalyst reviver
destitute dream finder
prejudice grinder
a healer, binder
I am reality
existentialist examiner
look at me
I'm here to leave a mark
I'll not stay in the dark
Little light shiner
I may not be the blaze
but i'm steady,
it only takes a little light
to ignite
the world
I am me
not a Shakespeare or a Donne
no, neither one
but my place I have won
with a party of one
that's still influence
that's still power
in this time and hour
that's all we need
one person
to change...
one world
with one word
it can be done
I'm here
I'm your party...
your party
of
ONE
Eileen Manassian
Life secretly offering fleeting moments of happiness… but the underlying sadness creeps through; the grief of human condition always seeps through from the unconscious. I always imagined it as the watery liquid separating from the unctuous and the solid matter of the brain as a pervading force that relentlessly pursued my happiness.
I am reminded often that this life offers no protracted security of contentment only taunting bits of joy.
Is that what we must satisfy ourselves with then? We are to be grateful solely for the passing seconds of joy.
In this life we are offered only an empire of dirt and the subconscious encumbered with the knowledge that we are merely destined become part of that empire.
deep in the forest, a shot rang out
at least
I thought it did
or
someone
wanted me to
go to
line one
~
Loitering pain; existential in its core
Evicted; eradicated at child birth
From her core.
Self queries, examinations of the soul
Replaced by sense of duty
For the community
And offsprings, she adores.
Existential (ist) angst left her core
Without so much as a goodbye!
Without a farewell!
A feckless lover
Would have treated her
Fair.
Now she pieces puzzles together
Of galaxies omniscient;
For her five year old
Now she sews rainbow buttons on
The hems of pink tutus
For her little girl.
Now she talks about glittering mermaids, Rapunzel hair
And velocity of planes!
walking waiting for
nothing but walking
can't decide, just do,
actions mechanized
briefly burnt out, ai!
the end is the start of
something else (some
one break this box)