Philosophical Poems - Poems about Philosophical

I've been fed a prune of life, Spooned it silver, everlasting. I spat it out to seek a knife, To chop and cease it of forecasting. The birth is reason as much itself: Not 'yond the self conceived. Wrote for book on busy shelf, Whose tales unread aren't grieved....

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Philosophical Rhymthmic Duality Imminent calamity collides with structured debate Virulent profanity confides with punctured ingrates An insolent generation of insanity resides with a debunked hate The innocent audacity presides over the opinions that rank and rate Alchimedes problem solving in the middle of the night Socrates deliberating over what is wrong and what is right Sophocles writing...

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They all took their seats round the table, It had no head, but all knew where Power sat. Summoned in haste by Ideology itself, for the matter was pressing and oddly stressing. Capitalism sat back—legs crossed, arm draped, already reclined like comfort was inherited. Feminism adjusted her seat, raised it two inches—just enough to be noticed. Consumerism fumbled with six filled bags, Communism leaned...

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In our universe so vast, life and death is an interpretation. In our life, we hold dear sadness, and joy is an imagination. Our life is full of colors, or so we assume, But there are no colours — just the product of our brains. Reality is beyond what we imagine. What we see around is just an illusion. Nothing is...

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S-ilent A-uthor's R-eliable I-nk S-moothly D-esigns I-magery, N-aturally G-iving L-ife A-s S-imple A-s N-ame ©bfa042725 Monocrostic (Birthday of Saris C. Dinglasan) ...

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Maybe I’d be happy if I had a swimming pool Maybe I’d be happy if only I looked cool Maybe I’d be happy if I won the lottery Maybe , just maybe, well maybe. Maybe I’d be happy if I owned a flashy car Maybe I’d be happy, if I was a music star Maybe I’d be happy if I was...

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And We should not be here in the first place: in last place in the worst space. This Earth! The Disgrace! But should we be here at the right time: at due time at the fine line. This Life! The Great Race! So Save yourself: a piece Of peace in one hand. Still Stick to what your gut Would: want at one hand. For There is a proper place for Everything: A place to live, And a...

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Blind My eyes are dim, I do not see. How could this happen, to someone like me? I’m not a bully, a thief, or a cad. Just a hardworking man, like my grandfather and dad. As children we played a silly game. Called blind man’s bluff, that was its name. With our eyes covered, it’s just...

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my heart, the perfectly shaped egg oh dear, hear me out, would you? i can explain it, everything, for you it's a philosophy only one can understand, will you? i'm not like the rest i used to want glasses, freckles, and even braces i used to rock back and forth like i was in a movie at some point, even wanted to...

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In Judaeo-Christian cultures, when we equivocate, evil as good, it marks the very beginning of our soul’s swan song. ...

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Does the winter really turn into spring, Does it go from a white to a green sort of thing? Or, is a winter a thing of its own– A singular winter, past, off to places unknown? -- by ThoughtsFromB4 ...

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THE WEIGHT OF OUR THOUGHTS Mind, the supreme gift to humankind is, Plentiful thoughts criss-crossing whiz; Enchanted spirits gliding high, Success triumph when almost nigh! Gratified the mind, with content filled, Appeased exuberant gladly thrilled; Vibrant agile mind dancing sprightly, Energetic playful the outer selves’ lively! When crestfallen desolate state of mind, Languorous listless strolling down the alley blind; Depressed psyche despondent gloomy, Anguished being humming...

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For My Children - Daniel Henry Rodgers As dawn's first blush ignites the eastern sky—a cool Caress of dew upon the breeze—and the birds' serenade Pierces the silence, their notes ascending high. The mist, like a spectral ballet, pirouettes, twirling In the light. And the flowers, in their resplendent array, Bloom, banishing the night. My beloved, her face is like a sonnet, and our...

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I use philosophical musings, My key maker is reverie, A few attempts may be needed, Alignment may not occur each time. Upon success, the door opens, A mirror stands there, devoid of reflection, Then a ripple, whatever part of you hidden, Manifests. It grasps you digging talons in, drags you inside, Beware, can take possession of your husk, enjoy the ride....

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Which version of yourself, do you regard the best? Which version of yourself, well and truly beats the rest? Which version of yourself, would you prefer to be? Which version of yourself, should the world not see? Each day of your life is a chance to improve, Each day of your life there should be nothing you need to prove, Each...

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