Best Plato Poems
Dramatic prose for the pompous asses
I throw my Platos at you
If you come any closer
I will Socrates you right in the nose
Demands, demands!!!! The clowns now have demands?
I say, rise up oh poets of the infinite dot universe
Proclaim the revolution a new
Justify our fight with words wrapped in doo doo
When I see a condescending donkey trip on his verbatim
I laughs cause I know he will fall into Satan's den
I am at eleven, usually a sober man
I carry my saber high and shout "Ekphrasis I don’t give a bloody damn"
Infinite ............................ Universe
Can we contemplate a love between friends
phycically attracted but spiritually exempt
from the common consummation?
Can we sustain a love that never ensds,
a touch of hands, a kiss, to obviate
the threat from consummation?
Can we contemplate a love complete
within our understanding,
give all to each other as never before,
stand firm. reject ridicule and pain
united in avoidanceof the disaster
to be wrought by Plato?
Disobedience fires that ancient, vengeful master.
We must contemplatethe love that never ends,
the innocence of love between two friends
eschewing consummation,
consummation is for the weak.
A BRIEF HISTORY WITH PLATO
At the beginning Plato reigned
in a way they never quite explained
or understood; the mutual attraction
obviated thoughts of sexual satisfaction.
For so long being together sharing time
was enough, and in retrospect sublime;
beyond that moment when Nature took the course
it did, bodily coincidence foretold divorce
from the friendship they had shared
lovingly, eschewing known conventions, they cared
for each other, defiant in the face of rumoured lust.
Lust once only in the mind now turned to the dust
of disappointment, racing to the point of satisfaction,
stuttering to the depths of disaffection
from the moment they confirmed Society’s fashion,
eternal friendship sacrificed on the altar of instant passion.
The lifelong friendship abandoned in momentous heat,
an experience of life they can never, ever again repeat.
[ Form - Rap ]
( "Love's Survival" is a paucity. The proper dress is ice-skates and blind-folds. - © 1998 - R.W. )
what to do about Plato of late
the Greeks convinced
and about Pluto
lost planet status
he-haw atmospherics since
lost again when earth's bit brawl is done
say fie to sun and moon
who glaze your suspect skin
born of light
some bummed else
styles back up to air tumbles
traffic stumbles
write poetry
the kind
obscure agrees
always something sticks
as world goes why
unmasked
erasing blue
long after head-lamps cool
corners tangled fools
who think they may get rich
reform in morning phenomes
songs of lovely aches
all for your sake
maybe me too
The sorry state of stars
they dont know where they are
the mice of earth
haggle sparkle verse
the awful beauty breaks
to spell your name
music intimates
the crippled rain
or just wear a funny hat
identity looms
found exactly where
you thought she'd gather
how she longs
each winged gesture
plain or complete
to be anywhere
anyone else
assay
any New York street
a poem
or Heaven's Gate
of ladder games
___________________
Notes:
1. Symbolic Poetry: A regurgitated commons.
2. Intentional obscurities wont thrill nirvana and bus fares remain alleged.
( cutting-edge technique for placing tongue in cheek ).
( a tooth-full... wouldn't you say? )
No Respite for Plato
I was born into the wondrous light that bore down upon me illuminating the world before my eyes. In my youth I chose to turn away and seek the refuge of the shadows. But always could I feel the burning of the light upon my soul, and solace was not granted me. My fortitude was weakened and I stood as an outcast among the many that had found peace in the shadows. The burden weighed heavy on my being as I stood alone, compassion to me was not forth coming. As I watched the others mired in their blissful slumbers of puppet dreams, disdain and contempt crept into my heart. I despised my inept attempt to darken the light, I waited for release from this prison of shining purgatory. It did not come, would not come but by my own hand and yet again another failure.
As I wander alone through this dismal swamp between shadow and light the occasional glimmer of light befalls me as does hope. Though more often then not doused in my next sluggish step forward, bathed in the darkest filth that surrounds me. I raise my fist skyward and curse the heavens in vain to appease my agony, no avail. Others I see in the distance trudging down this path of despair muttering inane obscenities that echo in the darkness. Imprisoned by their own accord and speaking in tongues of wonders hidden within the light. My mind races from before time and through the vast wasteland that lay in my path everything is visible. I see into the abyss ahead my eternal damnation to walk alone bathed in this sublime light forever ensconced in it's beauty. Forever alone in admiration of the reality unveiled that Utopian isolation, form without substance, cold existence.
Plato's Cave Allegory below for those unfamiliar with his work.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Allegory_of_the_Cave
31.01.2008
The theory of Plato
Even old Plato said
There will be us forever
-
Two halves that make an apple,
Two ropes tied in a knot.
Even old Plato said
We’re meant to be together
-
Two stars from the sky – falling,
Souls always bound by love.
Even old Plato may
Be wrong once in a while,
For even philosophers
Do sometimes make mistakes
But we are still so young,
So let’s believe old Plato
And somewhere deep inside
Let’s hope it’s not the case…
To adequately consider the problem of one and many,
place yourself in orbit
and distinguish between what you see each successive time around.
Today I’m grateful for music and for Plato
to his words I often cling :
Music, he said, gives soul to the universe
Wings to the mind
Flight to the imagination
And life to everything…
dead men walking
predicting patterns
anticipating outcomes
self limiting possibilities
languishing in darkness
blind leading the blind
a tragedy of our times
14-December-2022
Plato to Aristotle….”you made your bed, now sleep in it”
Aristotle to Plato….”if you lie down with dogs expect to arise with fleas”
Plato to Aristotle….”Ekphrasis makes strange bedfellows”
Aristotle to Plato….”never wake a sleeping blog”
Plato to Aristotle….”no matter how you slice it, it’s still baloney”
Aristotle to Plato…”sleep tight – don’t let the bedbugs bite”
Plato to Aristotle…”ever slept on a bed of roses?”
Aristotle to Plato….”required some thorny removal”
Plato to Aristotle…”let us remove ourselves to the fireplace
and look at some pictures”
Aristotle to Plato….”Yeah, but don’t go asking them any questions”
Aristocles Plato
Tried to prove a poet as a fiasco
He wrote his Republic
To save his people from emotional epidemic
ALL ABOUT NOTHING
Long before modern nihilism
Plato spoke of khora,
the receptacle of nothingness
as the existential foundation
of all things shown and known.
Nonsense, the men of Athens said
for we stand firmly on the ground,
to which Socrates replied:
If no space is in and about the ground
how could you or me be found?
(And in China in this axial age
Lao Tzu told skeptical men the same:
The origin of things had no name
but as the nameless eternal Tao
for which nothing could be shown or known.)
To learn how to recite koine Greek
That I may drink from the life-giving creek
Finish reading the words of Plato
To grow my knowledge thereto
Give up eggs and milk
So I can fully wear the white silk
Travel this dark world of hellfire
That I may hear Christ’s silver lyre
Be better for aeons to see
So I can become a marble tree
a Zen philosophy states
that all form is emptiness
yet it’s not
as all emptiness is form
but in essence not
Plato maintained that
its essence
is in its purpose
the idea of the chair
preceded its existence
the idea of the chair
contains its purpose
while the philosophers are bellyaching
over whether one could and
actually should
fashion a chair out of an imaginary log
we have long ago
carved a rocking chair
out of treasured memories
and apricate at leisure
on the front porch of our own reality
He had doubt about telling love … to laities.
Doubt does sprout, and he stopped writing, Ladies,
Not lines, nor about wines, yet about his love,
But he thought: ought I not to find why and how?
He found that Plato, not NATO, nor Tomato,
Warned and scorned at us for writing about love,
Yet he taught and wrote a text on love; this Plato
Did, and he hid his love that he did like a dove.
“Love is not climate, it's private," thought laities;
So, they said, “Hey, No love in lines; it’s private”;
Donne, a great one, told his love….to pieties,
And when I meet my friends, we just dissect climate
This tells us why he feels shy and does not write
On his love, and how this torments him like a blight,
And I'm sure we can write on love: lily, pure white
And dispel this spell as sun does expel, sheer night.
A 4th Place* in the following contest (judged on Nov. 19, 2020)
Nov. 12, 2020
In Rhymes Sublime Poetry Contest
Contest sponsor: Joseph May