Tag Archives: philosophical poetry

The Ugly Face of Happiness

Posted in Poetry English by
mindfield_by_geoarcus_dclyl8v-fullview

What if happiness is not sweet salvation, but poisonous seduction?

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Happiness is a wretched prostitute,

in fancy clothes and a painted attire

Her seduction is old, in fact, it is ancient,

but it tastes fresh on the lips of desire

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Happiness is the sprinkled and colored dust;

on a butterfly’s wings as the summer lingers

The colours seem eternally captivating,

but they fade within the grasp of greedy fingers

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Happiness is a deceptive illusion,

projected by the frozen moments of time

The illusion seems perfectly alluring,

but it shatters with the very next chime

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Happiness is a vulture atop the tree of life,

disguised as a magnificent bird of paradise

The brilliance of its colours blinds the eyes,

while its greedy heart is as chilling as ice

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Happiness is opium dulling our senses,

overwhelming the awareness like magic

Its fumes give a pleasure so insane,

while it blinds us to the misery, so tragic

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Happiness is pursued, yes, but only by fools,

but it is not trusted by the wise, not at any cost

Happiness breeds hard and cruel insensitivity,

while sadness brings understanding, when all is lost

A Dialogue with the Darkness (Previously, the Darkenss Within)

Posted in Poetry English by

When the self turns inward, the sharpest blade is awareness.

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I want a sharp knife;

the sharpest of all I have ever seen in this life

A knife with an ivory grip and a gleaming edge;

engraved with obscure ruins, carrying a death pledge

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I want to plunge it into my belly;

slicing it across, all through the quivering jelly

Cutting open myself and savoring the soothing pain;

smelling the oozing blood and enjoying the red rain

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The steaming guts will spill out;

and so will the coldness, without a doubt

I want to confront the coldness under my skin;

I so want to face the raging darkness within

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I want to feel their texture and what makes up my core;

the ice-cold mercury seeping out of each pore

I so want to sense their force, so binding and so freeing;

their powerful darkness vibrating in my being

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I want to question them all, the unanswered queries;

hanging in balance, the forever silent juries

I want to challenge them all, the reservoirs of valor;

forever loud but hollow, the reds masking my pallor

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Why do you reside within me?

Perhaps two despising lovers smiling with glee?

Or are you sent by my respectful adversaries,

not really bothered, and just two emissaries?

Song of Lilith

Posted in Poetry English by
lilith_by_marinacoric_d3i9i9j-fullview

Before Eve, before obedience, there was Lilith—and she asked why.

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O’ Lilith, our one mother, and the equal,

was it really you?

Upon the flowers of Eden,

the very first drops of dew?

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You were created out of wet earth,

the very first man’s very first mate

You were his equal, you were his partner;

a companion to him, his destiny, his fate

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It was you who took his side,

and it was you who reasoned

It was you who protested the submission,

the Devil’s shrewdness was so seasoned

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But then you were made a demon,

a vile and dark entity

But then you were made the fiend,

and you lost your real identity

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Were you really corrupt at some level?

Or did you have a rotten soul?

Is it because you are the logic,

which defies all faith and Adam’ role?

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Is this because you realized the concept,

or is this because you disobeyed God?

Or is it because you understood Him,

seeing religion as the original fraud?

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O’ Lilith, I think it was really you,

our only mother and the equal

You could be our grand salvation,

perhaps, the only chance we knew

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You gave birth to reason;

you did not birth us, perhaps

And you gave birth to justice,

reason and justice, victims of our lapse

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We have inherited your wisdom,

though we do not carry your genes

Let it lead to understanding the purpose,

let it become the fundamental means

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O’ Lilith, our one mother, and the equal,

was it really you?

Upon the flowers of Eden,

the very first drops of dew?

Once I wanted to be immortal

Posted in Poetry English by

A haunting journey from the hunger for immortality to the longing for silence.

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Once I wanted to be immortal;

experience each pleasure that life was offering,

and live each dream, my imagination was proffering

But then I saw, and then I observed,

each pleasure came with regret and too much pain,

that dreams were a loss, and not really a gain

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Once I wanted to be immortal;

live each day with laughter, my heart brimming with joy,

and love the whole world, its beauty, and its clever ploy

But then I saw, and then I observed,

all joy was fake, and happiness was only opium,

that love was a farce, enacted from an egoistic podium

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Once I wanted to be immortal;

experience all my wisdom could understand and reach,

learn all the lessons that life could ever teach

But too many years have passed, and I have grown up;

now I just want to fade away and dissolve without a trace,

and sleep a blissful sleep, far beyond this time and space

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Now, every trace of my presence, I just want to erase,

the glory is all gone, and extinguished is the blaze

Now, I just want to find a way out of this fucking maze,

I just want to get out, without any kudos, without any praise

Go where there is no more me, no desires or ambition,

where all is always silent, the realm of the Great Magician

Me and the Devil, Walking Side by Side

Posted in Poetry English by
hannibalmanstag

What if the Devil was never evil—only loyal, misunderstood, and condemned?

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Me and the devil,

walking side by side

Me, the eager follower,

and him, the patient guide

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“Disobedience and arrogance?

Why, when you were His chosen?

Deviance and decadence?

Why, when you showed no cozen?”

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“Disobedience?”

The lightning flashed,

and in his eyes, a dark anger lashed

“It was always my plan,

not bowing to you, a helpless man”

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“Arrogance?”

The thunder boomed,

he whispered deeply and presumed

“It was always the obscurity,

my purity and your impurity”

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“Deviance?”

The wind screamed,

and his eyes darkly gleamed

“It was my sincere intention, and the one true path,

inviting His immense fury, His infinite wrath”

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“Decadence?”

The sky wept and went suddenly dark,

his smile grew wider, and there was a spark

“It was always the intention,

my love and my obsession”

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I understand all,

I comprehend all,

The agony of love,

misunderstood and rejected

The burden of loyalty,

a soul, broken and dejected