Best Philosophylife Poems
I rose not like flower or like tree
Not like eagle's hubris in the sun
Old skin shed in the divided city
Last clone of a manhood almost done
And so I tasted the salt that lingered in blood
When the sea was pushed to the edge
And the land was wet and squirming in mud
I was in the litter of its self-knowledge
I know my city better now, where met
The passions of my birth, life is beautiful
But shallow here, much to regret and forget
But I will exhume me from the bountiful
Shallowness and litter, I will my heart
To the silent stars and write my life
In words of truth. Montego Bay, let me start
In you, the doldrums where the fear was rife.
It was not the wind, but the fire that sent
My mother descending through smoke of tears
Along the pavement hard without lament
And her three children pined at crowded stairs
My brother was swallowed by the city's mire
My sister's drug was her desire, she called
Eight from her flesh to mother's feast of prayer
Thank you God for your mercies that enthralled
That's context now, while I bleat my life
From the ghetto's battlefield to stable and school
Something provoked my hunger and strife
Something led like a pen along the edge of a rule
For I have smelled the cordite fumes of death
And the magic scent of ganja on slum night air
I from school have fled and gasped for breath
Along a street where splintered blood appeared
So I dispense this news for you struggling child
Wriggling sand to walk out of my burning shoes
Soon I shall strip away the mask pile by pile
Promise you will dance, dance slowly to my blues
I give you more than wax feathers for the sun
For old Sisyphus by labor endless was worn down
And did not see the rise sinking to the run
In each man's failure another man's victory abound.
Life is dying in a soul;
And the soul is the vault of life
Hope is killed by a goal;
And the goal is holding the knife.
What’s a soul when life is dead?
And what’s a goal when hope is killed?
A skilled tailor without a thread;
Or a raining sewer which is filled.
Dream is choking in a sleep;
And the sleep is the gas of the dream.
An eye is unable to weep;
And the tear turns into steam.
What’s a sleep without a dream?
And what’s an eye without a tear?
A born baby without a scream;
Or a sense of courage drowned in fear.
What's a poem without a verse?
And what's a sentence without a word?
a wicked witch without a curse;
or a brave knight without a sword.
How closely do we wrap our faith and conviction in life,
is it the things that determines who is our wife.
What morals do we instill and what scruples do we throw aside,
what is the true meaning of life and where does it reside?
What book, of Text is the complete divine word of all truth,
and are we to understand it before we walk away from our youth?
What priest's words will convict some but show pride on the few,
and why are those words the only one they think are true.
Is Salvation given to the slave of ignorance and greed,
for is not our own hunger for life and justice, our only seed?
I am truly vexed at the world that I was born into this time and place,
for I see only greed and selfishness, on every living face.
Where is Jesus? Buddha or the prophets that came before,
is this a world these want prophets of no more?
Where did we go so wrong, that we are left completely alone,
cast in an ocean of discontent, dyeing on a forgotten thrown?
Stewards of life and the Earth we are held to this sight,
maybe our real salvation lasts in our very might.
There is the rub, for why should we look for God to do,
when the true work resides in me and you.
The rapture does not reside in the heaven's above,
it is to know that we should live with each other, in respect and love.
The truest God is perfect like we all can come to be,
for if you really understood life, you will see that God is simply you and me.
I imagine a universe without god
What a powerful man !
I imagine a world without man
What a lovely place !
I imagine a country without politicians
What a peaceful land !
I imagine daily trade without businessmen
What a simple life !
I imagine a way of life without machines
What a romantic life !
I imagine a day without women
What a quiet day of rest !
But when I imagine my own self without you
Who I am then …
Is it possible that I may strive to think
Of what has never been
Or that such would raise me from where I sink
And wipe my sorrow clean
Day and time pass but memory remains
The archive of our knowledge and our pains
Against this bruised part of me your face press
Little nephew, and my love finds no rest
Your mother says, as if the dead still grow
Out of the dust of time,
You would be thirty five, could you but know
This side of life sublime
But I shall never see you stand again
Beside the gate, calling my son to ride
With you, or play like swallows in the rain
His brother came though to be by your side
But none can tell what compose that world yet
Nor how my flesh keeps faith
With me, if may leave its house at my death
Leave close its broken gate
And free from time and space reclaim being
In some place where spirit returns longing
For earth within the bars of time, for old
Memories that round eternity roll
Yet without the pulse of time's cycling pall
The ebb and flow that age
The lost past living only through recall
The shadow on the stage
In which we believe, but ne'er apprehend
The fading light and the shift of scene again
The laws we write as candles in the night
A wind broken dream intimating sight
Bobby, Bobby, I have no final why
Or reason for my tears
The deeper things that make the oceans sigh
Through veils of misty years
As if some deeper wisdom unengaged
Ponders something in our frail sorrow caged
And yet can find no wing except this grief
To weep our life and renders some relief.
I miss you, little nephew, and remain still
A fan, though no more you
Play the ball and let men shout at their will
Or sing melodies blue
About the earth, and man's injustice to man
Nor can I listen the telling of each plan
You had, and against this void now I scream
This senseless violation of our dream!
He worked on the land, a farmer by trade.
He never will know the impact he made.
When plowing the fields, his mind would be filled
with lessons in life he taught and instilled.
“Life’s pretty simple” my grandpa would claim,
“The rules we should live by are always the same.”
He delivered his thoughts in a wry kind of style.
You’d think he was mad, but then he would smile.
He was always profound, a man of his word.
He would always look forward despite what occurred.
“I’ve never reaped anything I didn’t first sow.
The seeds that you plant is the crop that will grow.
Fix your eyes on a spot, if you want to plow straight.
If you need to start over, it’s never too late.”
One thing I remember, he often would share,
“Don’t tear down a fence, ‘til you know why it’s there.
Some fences are built to keep danger away,
some fences are built so we’ll know where to stay.”
His philosophy in life was to, “Let people be.
I’m not here to judge, lest they should judge me.”
“Some things are better off left on the ground,
manure doesn’t stink ‘til you stir it around.”
The best thing he taught me was how I could find
the answer to anything crossing my mind.
Whatever I’d ask him, he’d get out the Book,
saying, “God wrote it down, if you take time to look.”
He understood things that few understand.
A farmer by trade, he worked on the land.
be careful what you wish for on this journey called life
and that what you wish for lines up with the spirit of Christ
be careful what you wish for just make sure it's Godly inspired
don't be a fool nor the devil's tool by what in life you desire
you thought you had found Mr. Right to you he was the perfect man
he turned out to be a loser and abuser who only showed you the back of his hand
you thought you had the perfect woman she was smart, pretty and sweet as honey
but when you feel in love she broke your heart as she was only with you for the money
you thought you had that dream job which gave you power, prestige and control
instead it was an all consuming stint sucking away at your soul
you desired a certain type of car the most fabulous vehicle you could get
but instead you got a big fat lemon that wasn't worth the polish nor the spit
they say that the grass always looks greener from the other side
just don't hate, appreciate, seek God's guidance and with Him take the ride
If you allow God to navigate you on this journey that is life
I guarantee you will experience less trouble, struggle and strife
God wants you to be happy, God desires that you have the very best
so for everything pray to Him and let the Holy Spirit put it to the test
God can send you the right mate someone who will love and cherish you
God can hook you up with the perfect car and so what if it isn't brand new
God can give you a career that will fulfill you and make you feel whole
allow the presence of God in your life and it will nourish your soul
so be careful what you wish for as you just might get it
all I can say is that on it pray that it's sanctioned by the Holy Spirit
Three D’s of life are dreams, desires, and death
If you have the first, the second will come running and
the third will be on your doorstep
Dreams stir up desire and too many desires leads to death of soul
So is it better to dream of life or have a life of dreams ?
To die of desire or to let desires die?
Seems much to me like a paradox of life
Take life in stride
Peaks and valleys as I ventured
Take life in stride
When slipping down, seek the upside
Sell your soul; you’ll be indentured
But heartfelt words can’t be censured
Take life in stride
*Entry for Dr. Ram’s Rondelet Contest
(Correction made thanks to Francine)
I pledge allegiance to each self-loving, self-made individual
Whose sole need of men is force-free profitable trade,
Who judges aims and acts with his own thinking mind
And stands proud to receive judgment, sure and unafraid.
I pledge allegiance to the state of individual rights,
The law-bound republic of only private property---
Private flesh and thoughts and lands and tools and lives,
Where each man holds the wheel of self-responsibility.
I pledge allegiance to the rationally selfish self,
And to the happiness on earth that each may find;
And I pledge totally against the death-blow evils of altruism---
Communism, socialism, fascism, religion and environmentalism.
I pledge allegiance to life---human life above all other--
Actual life above potential---fact above wishing.
I pledge allegiance to me; yes, to me I pledge allegiance;
With myself and by myself and to myself, I pledge allegiance.
Through trials and plans
through darkest hour
into troubles and
peaks of the joys we devour
Where all is not finished
until a life is complete:
friends tended, gardens mended,
homes built on unyielding stone
In the final days of a fading thought
in the obscurity of oldness grown
Where life is less than it could have been
and all that is left is you
In the end of all: Integrity
summed up not in how we began
in the midst of tribulation
Nor, what we did along the way
When walking into the darkest valley
and having stumbled on feet of clay
how will you finish?
I pray you finish well.
Do you understand the reason for this?
Do you think your life is all, but bliss?
Can you hear your heart calling to your mind?
Can you leave all your past fears behind?
Can you live without knowing tomorrow?
Can you believe in yourself now, without feeling hollow?
Can you live your life without hoping for better things?
Did you know you can fly without wings?
Seeing life the way I do
Looking at colours, seeing more than the hue.
Gazing at the stars, I see all eternity
My history, my past, my diversity.
The truth is we all are one
What is done, is done
Forget the future and the past.
Live each day as if it was the last.
Be here, BE right now.
It will be your day soon to take a bow.
If your cup is empty all your life,
And you never seeks it's fill,
Then you are passing up good things,
And denying lifelong thrill.
If your cup is halfway full it may,
If things become quite shaky,
Turn and tip and spill and drip,
And leave your heart quite achy.
But if you fill your cup right up,
And refill it many times,
Then you'll never be the empty soul,
Searching for the perfect life.
You'll laugh and cry and love and lie,
You'll cheat and steal and kill.
You'll be the best friend someone's known,
Or stay their enemy still.
A full cup is the fullest life,
And no life was ever perfect,
Save the Savior, tall upon the cross,
And his loving, caring Father.
A full life is extravagant,
It is full of everything!
Beauty, passion, hate and ration,
Ideas that spark anything!
The fullest life is dangerous,
It grasps you in its claws.
It tears you up and wears you down,
You learn to bend the laws.
I know you may be saying now,
"Those things I'll never do!
The things that she says that I might!
I know that it's not true!"
I warn you, it's still dangerous,
The fullest life to lead.
If it becomes too full, my love,
That is a deadly deed.
So as we live our cup-based lives,
Half empty, or half full,
Remember dangers, big and small,
And those who love you, short or tall.
Remember that an empty cup,
Will give you no love in return.
A full cup may run over,
If that's good or bad you must discern.
Live your life the way you choose,
Live it happy or drunk or sober,
Whichever way you choose my dearest,
An empty cup will never run over.
You plot and scheme but things
don't always fall into plan,
I know now what most men might
learn in a life span,
but all my knowledge of philosophy
cannot spare,
the rare yet paralyzing storm of
despair,
my life of mediocrity was traded in,
for a life full of agonizing doubt yet
one free of sin,
I often wonder how people get
moved by sayings so plain,
and how do you find the meaning of
life when life is so mundane,
Nietzsche was supposed to teach
me how to deal with pain,
Aristotle was supposed to cleanse
my soul and brain,
how could the pursuit of simplicity
drive me insane,
perhaps I overestimated what I
stood to gain,
So I adopted the infamous
Schopenhauerian concept of love,
claiming conspiracy over something
so rosy as the above,
a life based on rhetoric, a life devoid
of all romance,
the possibility of which I passed
when I had my chance,
we the blessed modern beasts claim
that instincts are for men of the
past,
"except when it comes to love", a
paradox my head cannot grasp,
I spent my time of recreation in
elation
admiring intellectual creation,
which lead to hesitation, stagnation
and later self-condemnation,
but I stopped fearing the
unfathomed,
gratefully, profound discontempt
gracefully unraveled,
I don't promise that you will find
bliss in midst of the abyss,
but if somehow it's my point that
you've managed to miss,
its simply the unexamined life isn’t
worth a drop of piss.
(From Apology (by Plato) 360 B.C.
"The unexamined life is not worth
living" said Socrates before his
execution.)
A seed is planted
new life begins
tended, nurtured
brought to maturity
ripening, blossoming
Sending forth it’s seed
to begin again
before it dies
the cycle of life goes on
with each new seed planted
Mother to daughter
a cycle reborn
hope is renewed
through the eyes of an infant
the laughter of a child
Gentleness and strength
moral character
values instilled
teaching them, preparing them
hoping the best for them
So what happens when
natures cruelty reigns
suffocating
a cry silences the night
the seed cannot be sown
Immortal spirit
the cycle of life
stopped, broken
empty womb, dry barren soil
no one to take my place
Do my hopes and dreams
my visions, my truths
die then, with me
wither up and blow away
Will my life cycle
my spark, my flame
be extinguished
Or will I continue on
through the souls that have touched mine?