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#Philosophistication

Breathe with me, the darkness
tries to intervene, the whole world
seems to be too weak, your eyes
are a broken faucet, they always
leak, hold my hands as I peruse
for meaning in this complex world,
do not run away from this veld,
we’re the species inhabiting the
velds filled with depression and
dying folks, poke you, awaken
now, follow my fading path,
scream out your wrath inside
my tides of thoughts, my palm
is open for you to grab on,
I’m not your Messiah no,
but I can be your image of
a survivor, come with me
into the tunnel, let’s all fold
the sky, blow away the clouds
that taint our judgement, clear
perceptions, insight less bleak,
speak your dreams into what isn’t,
blink when reality keeps deceiving,
open your palms and keep
subconsciously receiving, your
fate in your dreams you should be fishing,
your negativity learn to be releasing,
this isn’t some of that conscious beliefs,
let’s cocoon underneath the stars,
count the number of galaxies,
escape this collective perception of
emancipation, this is a fallacy,
a stronger weapon, tired of walking on eggshells,
drowning in wells of tears,
haunted by fears, barely making
it to the next day, threatened by
the depression, searching for that
speaker who seems more awakened,
everyone is too corny, too ratchet,
too fake to be understanding reality’s
perception, tired of hearing about
lost men and women in mental incarceration,
I’m offering you the way to
the freeing wilderness, where purpose
is more entrenched in your own
understanding, less pressures from
other people’s dimensions, I’m
here trying to be your defendant,
they offer you heaven’s gates, I
offer you heaven in words,
same source, yet different way
to the destination, hold my open
palm, let your guard down,
die to self and wear this crown
of the enlightened, this is the age
of choosing a relevant direction,
this path is not patched with stone
tablets from ancient old world ruins,
here we let the divine fruit inside
our heads emancipate us instead,
this is a home where less are mentally detained.

These doing words can help you
do what you failed to do,
I’ve learnt to pull the
light out of the pitch black firmament,
lying on the cosmic pavement, I found
the truth through moments of
seeing moving beings back and forth,
undress yourself of everything,
before your emotion manifests into
something too hard to place in a
description, follow the path of
the different indigo being,
reborn everyday through the seed
of thought and womb of time,
my philosophies are a crime to refract
your existence upon,
sulk on these pages, be the sage
don’t follow the one who jots,
follow the freeing word not the
disciple expressing what he sees,
you can learn to be free, to understand
what it means to climb a cliff and
dive into the unknown from the edge,
life’s a stage and the props is
the pain, walk off the stage, the
performer is too insecure, the script
is too immature, are you the performer
who’s the director’s disposable tool,
don’t be a fool in the game of sages
and fools who inhale on sage within
pages and start believing they’re also sages.
This is a game of stages, the mistake is
that you’re also playing, instead of
decoding it’s matrix, victim to the
system of fascists and sadists,
too dark to be about the eternal life,
too many rapists, the dead are
stabbed in the eye, structures
are always manipulating actions
in real life, strife and spite is
part of the Devil’s fetishes,
sign petitions, too much is
darkening this sphere, every corner
you smell the dense fear, drunk
husbands sipping on intoxicated beers,
this world will make you see the
beasts and beauties being peers,
the intentions are never clear.
I won’t know what you’ve gone
through in this life, but someone
awaits to make you see the other
side of the moon, there’s room in
my spaceship, you need no obligation
to feel enslaved, let’s colour the
dark sky with cool-aid…

This is the cosmic demeanor,
let’s dive into the pith of
the unknown, refrain from the
dark norms, where energies scorn
and souls mourn, let’s roaming
amongst the Nebulas, messenger
with an envelope filled with
disturbing words, follow
this path into the veld,
derail the serpent from the
path towards our details of
pure bliss…

By Eugene ‘Philosophisticater’

Artwork by Jaroslaw Jasnikowski

Philosophistication Poetry © All Rights Reserved ©

559 Highlands •Paradise Lane•

A path that fades…

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