The Philosopher of Fools

WHAT ARE YOU

SEARCHING FOR

IN THE DARKLIGHT?

The world loves you when you agree with it. The world loves to learn old tricks. To see the same thing done again by a shiny new face and if that face should happen to be yours…

No, we can’t begin this way. He was a genius!

A true visionary. Although he did nothing truly new, all he had to do was agree.

To avoid the controversies that are thoughts and the controversies of the heart. Stop looking at the sky DarkLight!

Look at the people, give them what they want for no one has sent you. There are no voices in the clouds.

You have made yourself a philosopher.

The philosopher of fools!

But I refuse to believe in the foolish and in philosophers, that they are but hallucinations of ego and selfishness.

That we plagiarize the unknown and the unknown is all around us.

We are the birds who paint the sky

with their songs and the

butterflies that were allowed

to paint their own wings.

What am I searching for in the dark light? This false light is but a black darker than any shadow, that it would seem the shadows be glints of light amongst it. Its power is tempting but I am not here to be overcome by it, I’m here to fight it.

THE LOST

Find the lost.

Lose everyone you have ever found, but find the lost.

Look for them in the dust and when you go, take your

own way with you. Even if you have scorch the ground,

even if you have you have to tear down walls,

Find the lost.

RUN

If you are going to run,

run as if someone is chasing you

and if you see the gloom ahead,

do not slow down,

run faster!

Run like whatever is behind you

is much worse

than what’s ahead of you, run.

Run.

Run.

EVERYTHING YOU ARE

Do not hold on.

Do not hold back.

The best parts of you are infinite

and if any piece should stay with them,

If it should ever turn into regret,

regret is such a small space to get

lost in, but they won’t know their way

around in that coffin.

HOME

We have wandered into life feeling lost

because we are lost.

We do not belong here and we do not know

where home is. We only know

what feels like home

and love feels like home.

Love, and you will find

your way back.

I am just a writer leaving words behind in

an imaginary world

and it’s not that you don’t exist,

It’s that only you do.

THE WIRE

The ground became a wire at last and we were not afraid

to fall.

We barely even held on and all the world in all its havoc

was a tightrope,

but we could fly.

Yet, I would abandon the beauty of the skies to land

amongst the miseries beneath, just to see catastrophes

struggle to

breathe

in the deep beauty of your eyes.

Prisoner

I want to tie you up with my veins if it’s all the same.

I want my bones to be your cage.

I want to burn your name and breathe its sweet smoke

into my bitter lungs.

I want you to forget what is light and what is dark,

to become a prisoner of my heart.

PRIDE

She had too much pride.

If she walked down

the aisle it would be with

a bouquet of knives, and

would pluck those flowers?

Who would say aloud and inside,

She loves me, she loves me not?

Who would tell her, "Be careful of too

much pride it’s hard to kiss anyone

with your head held so high."

She had too much pride. In her eyes,

in her bones, in her blood, and if she

ever cried

her tears would be undignified,

if they could not cause

a flood.

Her Beauty is a Myth

But Her Love

Is A Legend.

She only had enough gas for one trip, so she drove to the stars. One night, she hitched a ride back on a falling star and as someone wished on it, she crashed into their world in magnificent brilliance.

Thorns

There may be thorns in her veins and wicked limbs,

they may seem like nothing less than a mess but they all

lead to that beating rose in her chest.

Royalty

She’s the only girl I know

that can sit on a sidewalk and

make it look like a throne.

She walks with torn pants as if it’s an art,

to let you know you don’t need pockets to carry a heart.

She’s the only royalty I’ve known who could make any

smile rise and any frown bow,

whose eyes could make the sun squint,

for her eyes swallowed the emeralds of her crown.

The Shooting