Philosophy Poems | Examples of Philosophy Poetry

I'm a poet And I don't know it My rhyme destroys My pen is Poised To trickle out Some tale about A butterfly Or sunset sky As sweet as jam With rhythm slam Dunk in your tea My soliloquy I'm a poet Happy to show it So on your bike As I drop the mic You may have guessed If you passed the test As you peruse This...

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The Purpose of My Existence A billion stars, a single flame, In countless seeds, I found my name. From crores of sparks, one soul took flight— A chance, a breath, a blink of light. The sun rose not for kings alone, Nor rain to kiss just golden stone. The air is free, the sky is wide, Yet humans build their walls inside. They chase...

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VI. We are all metric modulations of our former selves—changing time signatures mid-measure, learning to count in odd meters when life refuses to conform to 4/4 expectations finding beauty in 7/8 existence— the off-kilter cadence of becoming. The teenager tattoos pain across her skin in sixteenth-note flurries— razor crescendos marking flesh rimshots echoing in a locked room her body a snare absorbing what no one will hear. But the counselor...

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Everything is temporary. Maybe it's not even real... Life, this life... I think you know, we have already been here. Post-apocalyptic existence. Utopian dreams. Uncertainty at the surface, the shift in between. Contemplation and choice. Birth. Life. Death. They are all one and the same, sharing the same knife, to carve out the same name. ...

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Teasing twang See-saw folklore Darkness & light Mellow bedfellows? Less is more Wheat & chaff Wrong is right Day & night Elite meet riff raff No fuss or faff See the wood From the tree Pleasing tang Of Yin & Yang Iffy Sisyphean shuffles Squiffy Faustian kerfuffles In a jiffy Feathers ruffles Nirvanas & nadirs Pleb & peers Cheers & tears Grin or chagrin Through the years Proustian pang Me & you Yin & Yang ...

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Everything has an END The time I spEND And sentiments I intEND With my family and friENDS But not with Jesus Everything has an END The breath I expEND Trying to drive a point to its END Maybe just driven crazy as one may contEND Jesus I need you now “All things must come to an END” Said Chaucer as the 1300’s would dispEND Never say never:...

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Birth is a common denominator, Where the journey begins anew, In the cradle of dreams and laughter, Life's canvas awaits you. Age humbles the most valiant, With each wrinkle, wisdom grows, The fierce warrior of youth, Now dances in softer prose. Work is demanding of our essence, A grind that shapes...

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i will just ll. like leaves lean low in wind, not asking why the sky keeps its blue to itself. i will just ll. let light leak through the blinds like a quiet kind of grace on a wall that forgot to hope. i will just ll. not rise, not fall — but linger, in the hush between hours. i will just ll. like the last word on the...

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On a moonless night riding back from my tired job I opened my wallet on the bus Giving the conductor a few bucks The conductor gave me a note and a coin I carefully placed the note in my wallet As it was time for the coin to join the fate of the note The coin slipped away through my careless...

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Things are not making sense, and I am questioning if my reality is so because I thought it in to being. Am I the only one hearing the truth? Am I the only one believing? I think I am in need of a witness. Archons deceive souls using the illusion of separation. The mind is the sole...

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Said he, “Life is but a short journey, a dead end at best and over all too fast, but along the way admire the view, enjoy the ride while it may last. No ifs ands or buts, there are no shortcuts, we all fall by the same sword and the race well run, from the starting gun, is...

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Silent Sounds And in the naked light I saw Ten thousand people, maybe more People talking without speaking People hearing without listening From The Sounds of Silence by Simon and Garfunkel We speak in sentences that have no meaning Empty words flow from the mouths of fatuous politicians, but who listens. Earbuds drown out the cacophony of crowded streets as we hurry to...

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An old man once said: Freedom isn’t free As a child, I grew up, never understanding those words. As an adult, I learned, the tree of freedom is watered with blood. I thought we had paid enough. But as trees wither without water, so does freedom without its tribute. As such I hoped, we could pay with sweat and duty. But once again-we choose red......

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Bright orbs that shimmer, secrets yet untold, They pierce the dark and trace the fading light. Through love and loss, their silent stories hold, A world within each gaze—so soft, so bright. They search the hearts once open, now concealed, Reflecting dreams that linger, lost in fire. Some truths they guard, while others are revealed, Mirrors of passion, sorrow, and desire. They cast...

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I. In the beginning was the Single Stroke Roll— left-right, left-right, the primordial heartbeat of existence itself, each alternation a binary choice between being and non-being, the eternal paradiddle of consciousness striking against the drumhead of reality. Listen: the Buzz Roll of morning traffic— ten thousand souls creating multiple bounces against the stretched skin of commuter silence. Each ghost note a rhythmic prayer unheard each...

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