Philosophy Poems
Empty
by Richard Randolph
I think that I think.
Therefore, I think that I am.
If I didn’t think, I wouldn't be.
I’d be like a hive without a bee.
Empty.
Harvest
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
The toothache of the earth ceases when from behind
Ailing soils, browned to coma, muffled air breathes . . .
Autumn signifies the yellowness of strife, the redness of soothing
Cusps and the flowering of weeping, desiccated grounds.
We raise decibels of canticles, wafting atop candle flares
Of seasons’ end.
Let midnight keep with us the lucubration spirit, when like
Renewed sprites, we hinge our promises on patented soils laid
Bare by the sputum of harvest.
O’ Harvest, hear us well.
......
Cigarette Smoke
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
On a warm, dew-weakened day,
Watching the grey void of a lost
Sense, anxious moments recline
On whiffs of ancestral propitiations
When rafters regain possession of
Filched roast fish, balanced with
The fumes of a wild dance heckled
By chokes of a chagrined weekend.
Who rises faster than smokes of a
Low tar, ascending
......
Night at the Necropolis
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
Night,
Ageless and porous,
Sang screeches of fireflies of
Crescendo-diminuendo sparks.
What hour?
In the midst of the hustles, I lost my hoursight
Different, tonight, is my eyesight, seeing even
Through the darkest foliage of gentle, but sinister
Caress sway.
On the broken, cracked slabs, squatting, dark torsos!
......
Bleed to Succeed
by Somali Mukherjee
The way to success
Is stony and full of thorns;
We’ve to bleed, for sure.
Empty
by Richard Randolph
I think that I think.
Therefore, I think that I am.
If I didn’t think, I wouldn't be.
I’d be like a hive without a bee.
Empty.
Magical activity is not an entourage
by Michael Rufman
The magician lives not in the usual flabby and rarefied state, suitable only for the endless and dull repetition of the same lessons, which is “ordinary” life, but in an intense “training center”, where every action is called upon to “squeeze” the maximum out of consciousness. what it is capable of, to realize its aspirations and aspirations as effectively as possible
"Magical activity", rituals, spells are not just an entourage, games designed to make life "more interesting", they are ways to increase the intensity of awareness, to take it beyond the limitations imposed by upbringing and the forces behind it – Archons, predators, parasites
The key rule of Magic is: "you only need to do what you can't help doing," and all the training is needed only to find these "anchor points of consciousness," those actions that are overdue and can trigger an avalanche-like reaction of Enlightenment
By coming face to face with the players hidden behind the screen of the mundane, the magician can no longer pretend that "everything is fine" or that "everything is still ahead." The reality he is facing is so merciless and terrifying that it is impossible to simply ignore it, and then there is a state in which the magician "cannot but be a magician"
Shaping an adult
by Azaad M
If I could make my own adults,
I’d shape them gently—
after the foggy warmth of grandmothers' laps
and the way a mother tucks in the corners of a blanket like a promise.
I’d build them with leftover laughter from childhood
pressed into the hollows of their cheeks,
the kind that resurfaces when they laugh with their eyes closed.
I’d stir in a spoonful of Camus—
so they'd look at the sky and feel both lost and held.
......
The Road I Frequent
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
If you have seen it or traipsed on it,
You would have long since observed
That it's not paved with slabs of deception;
It’s a simple, lean road, fleshed and naked
It blends well with culture and the harmony
Of peace, curved effortlessly on its western incline.
It clutches at its vegetation when storms pervade
The earth
......
end’s beginning
by Rikske Kessner
end’s beginning . . . .
. . . . a seed that falls
strikes the ground and ends…
the goodness of its covering
fleshy fruit but an aftertaste…
then germinates and sprouts,
with daily nurturing sunlight
to spawn the next generation
......
