Philosophy Now Forum

bus2bondi wrote:Piss Off

I take it you did not like the ditty?

no, that was the poem, it wasn't directed to you or anyone here

Considering that you've
been gone too long
and that your ideas
have lingered
I decided to write
you a letter in order
that I may try to
explain myself

bus2bondi wrote:no, that was the poem, it wasn't directed to you or anyone here

B2B, I like it, it has a subtle flow that leaves you in no doubt as to the direction from the first word of the first line, and you are fully conversant with the theme by the time the last word rolls around.


TRAVELLER

I stood upon beaches bleached and blue,
and in this glory I stood alone.
At the moon from the summit I longingly reached,
with gripping winds laying me prone.

I watched water being drawn from an antique well,
the drawers face etched in life’s long pain.
On Southern Lights fluorescent ballet I gazed,
the magnetic master directing the train.

Ancient valleys ruins left by man's hand,
stand as a monument to humanities sorrow.
That they did build and that they did pass,
builds in me no faith in tomorrow.

The travelers eyes have supped the world,
but the voyeur is still incomplete.
The commodity of time was used and had,
the lasting memories bequeathed to the streets.

From dust we came and upon dust we viewed,
memories are the dust of our days.
That dust does creep and memories form,
our dreams when our souls want away.

So farewell the traveler from this earth,
their passing a statement of giving.
For from their demise a life will gain,
and experience the shortness of living.

i was dead and then your random acts of kindness made me feel alive

Chickentown by John Cooper Clarke

Not sure if I've posted this before.

that was great, this is poetry to me http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cp7_u0kcQRo

An life itself washing over me in your heart and in your eyes I can't live without you

I grew up on American tv culture watching dallas with mum and nan - played football in the evenings till it went dark and watched excitedly for the catalogue van coming up the street. Spent solitary hours in my room drawing or playing with toys

Poetry from the suburbs.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hhHJ4zEKDZY

Pluto wrote:I grew up on American tv culture watching dallas with mum and nan - played football in the evenings till it went dark and watched excitedly for the catalogue van coming up the street. Spent solitary hours in my room drawing or playing with toys

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ypn9oKaO ... re=related

far outside of the chaotic spheres
in liminal realms calm with no fears
sit men so ancient; the eternal seers
with wisened old faces wrinkled they peer
and see something thats nothing, inside their ears.
slumping old shoulders under the weight of stale years,
i wander amidst them, curious i leer.
and what did i see? everywhere tears

Psychonaut wrote:far outside of the chaotic spheres
in liminal realms calm with no fears
sit men so ancient; the eternal seers
with wisened old faces wrinkled they peer
and see something thats nothing, inside their ears.
slumping old shoulders under the weight of stale years,
i wander amidst them, curious i leer.
and what did i see? everywhere tears

Why tears ? For wasted years ?
I often wonder about modern day philos, some of whom spend deadcades pondering and arguing and so on...
about a concentrated part of life. What is the end result ?

I love your poems, Psycho - always thought-provoking.
M.

Why tears ? For wasted years ?

You'd have to ask them.

I often wonder about modern day philos, some of whom spend deadcades pondering and arguing and so on...
about a concentrated part of life. What is the end result ?

For the large part, absolutely nothing.
I think that most of the 'problems' of philosophy are created by philosophers.

I love your poems, Psycho - always thought-provoking.
M.

Thankyou