Short Existentialism Poems
Short Existentialism Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Existentialism by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Existentialism by length and keyword.
Is life meaningless or full of sense?
Can we tell? Or perhaps we're too dense.
But I'd rather not know.
It's a good status quo.
I prefer existential suspense.
drove wife to doctor
counting wheelchair ramp spindles
~waiting for Godot
7/10/2020
My wife smiled at this one. Or was it a smirk?
Waiting for Godot is a play by Samuel Beckett
When something of substance is written,
It impedes the senses.
When bric-a-brac is offered,
People flock to it.
At the end of life
Those of common taste
And full of depravity
Will never escape
earth's gravity.
A thing that yearns in constant devour,
And finds itself to be a constant sour,
Totally dissolute… and an accumulation of none,
Is the thing that burns, at a constant run.
For the thing is… in all its effortless glory,
The ache of a thousand suns.
In what good has it all come to
In my imaginary mind?
We roll through the wake of the water,
Goddammitting our way through.
Rising with our victories.
Cursing in our swift descents.
Buddhists are laughing on the shoreline.
I’m selling popcorn on the boat.
All Dreams end, sadly
The stardust they are made of,
Scattered,
To form again for others.
We travel with the dust,
Blowing,
From dream to dream.
A caravan of moments
Held together by our feelings.
The best of these dreams:
The one I had of you.
Don't give up yet,
we'll travel through time
searching for answers to
fix the perfect crime.
The plan is set,
try not to drop the line
but it seems so hard
when I'm still drawing mine.
So take it back
and give me a sign,
tell me this is it
and we can let our bodies shine.
Like you, I too once entertained the childish theology of monsters beneath the bed.
Only, where you slept with your face toward the door, praying for survival, I turned my back to the darkness, because I did not care whether it killed me—
for I did not fear being destroyed when I was already tormented by the violence within my mind.
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.
Sitting in a void
Staring at vacant walls,
Imagining its myriad colors,
Reminiscing about the binding brilliance in life
Ah, the heart!
Such a terrible foe.
Futile perceptions of the past...
Mercilessly, all the vociferates are ignored.
The venom inoculated with such lethal fangs
I will have to bleed a river for it to find my existentialism.
you've got religion on your breath
and existentialism hanging in your closet
politically correct
cannabis vapor
give me purple diesel
or give me death star
some mental exercises
for longer life
and longer eyelashes
taste another green world
vegan parmesan cheese
saved by zen medicine
and rapid weight loss
philosophy isn't books, honey
it's a skin care offer
I can see a
pale green
farmhouse
against the
nearly neon
vegetation
of the cornfields.
Soybean sprouts
are shooting
up here and
there.
In this place,
there is no
existentialism
or angst
questing
against our
sanity.
There is no
god or God.
Just the cornstalks,
the soybean sprouts,
and the pale green
farmhouse
in the distance.
couple on a motor
cycle with a death wish
drum drops
still pond
early morning
coolness broken
pull that poison, pull it deeply
deeply, deeply
pull it deeply
keep that breath, like memory bitter
sweetly taste that lungs can know
a good will, strong, and a one hundred
these are made alone
for breaking
benjamin Wishing, Well behind
our time,
our pennies
are made
for throwing
B R E A T H E . . . .
As though you are breathing in all of everything you have ever known
H O L D Y O U R B R E A T H . . . .
As though you are the only thing of every thing that exists
E X H A L E . . . .
As though you are releasing all of everything you have ever lost
S T A Y . . . .
As though you are the entire universe
B E . . . .
And you will know
this four-cornered cave, i’ve been calling my home
the sun has dried up
and left bleached like a bone
this bone i’ve been living in, like an old woman’s shoe
but i have no children
and i have nothing to do
this deed that i’ve done, it has been done for me
but I was condemned
and condemned to be free
this freedom is nothing, not like freedom at all
i sit staring at shadows
shadows play on the walls
To Dine, To Die;
Conversations spiral
While thunderous eyes
Grasp concepts to recycle.
Constant debt crisis
A political paradox
Grating social devices
Over the sorting of socks.
Pseudo-analysis
An endless groan
Argumental paralysis
The debate grants no throne.
Existentialism
Over a roast
Potatoes won't listen
To who talks the most.
"That point is so interesting"
The floor is open for chat
"What is real?" not a thing
"Meow" adds the cat.
We've begun to live, spare apart vicariously.
To actively probe and grasp aggressively.
Existentialism and ethics are linked inextricably.
Individual liberty is a wonderful property.
Nonetheless, it is frequently not taken seriously.
We may convey our concerns and difficulty.
We all fathom the same solution to life's mystery
Regardless of our specification, assiduously.
Written: August 11, 2021
If I says I love you,
That is love you
"Gentleman"Yeah I says
Night is gradually being softy
Gradually night is being been softy,
That become pretty
If I says you are pretty,
That is you are pretty
"Dear"Yeah I says
The dark is gradually being softy
Gradually the dark os being been softy,
That become away
At the end with that gradually become
"Existentialism"Yeah I says
If I says you die,
That is you die,of course
Thwelt Di Nwe
By day,
By night,
We fight,
Summoning all of our might.
They try to douse our flame, but it's still burning bright.
Our crime,
in time
You’ll find,
Is popular for a certain kind of mind.
Goodbye hate,
Goodbye sorrow,
Wonder who life will take tomorrow.
A product of our wills,
Crossing the hills
cranked out by the mills
of those who are ruled by this system still,
who believe life is already filled, and distilled,
discounting freewill.
Magical words
Utter from lips
That speak of love,
Magical are the eyes
That sparkle like stars,
Magical is the mind
Conscious and pure
And aligned,
With the cosmos
And creation
With love and light,
Magical is the cure
To our quantum existence,
Than can be found deep within
In existentialism let the magic begin,
Surreal is the soul and mind
Within our beings,
We just have enough to keep on
Always believing.
In a world where you are normal
only if you behave like the ‘others’
where normal is defined
by the powerful and disconcerted
I scream existentialism
I scream individuality
I scream for the voiceless,
the painful, and distressed beings
that walk this earth
I pray for a quiescent state
of mind
Yet, I find that it is an impossible
dream just because of the circumstances
Only in a world where animals
dictate what is normal
will normal ever exist
Form:
Trying to overcome the enemy
Society calls celebrity
Feeding on social media
Regurgitating stupidity & salvia
Driving off the cliff of existentialism
Crashing head first into television
Starry eyed & zombiefied
Trapped in a book of sci-fi
Howling at the moon
Again the morning comes too soon
Turning into a beast
When my heart retreats
Drowning in a pool of dreams
Swimming in a sea of moon beams
Picking stars from across the sky
Before I sleep the wind sings me a lullaby.