#Philosophistication

How old is Time?
She Asked; with frail skin,
and rotting teeth, she smiled
while embracing her cracked lips,
bones crackling within her hip,
she asked once again; how old is time?
I watched, starred daringly into her
eye’s seed, she held my forehead;
name is Nehanda dear, she says,
back I melted into a glitch of reality,
she smiled as I was being slingshot
into a colourful light, a scar around
her neck I saw, with gleam mine eyes
opened with bliss, I had been kissed
by the belief of those beyond the tree
of life, my flesh peeled away, consciousness
came forth to be merely a concept,
I saw self through a thousand thoughts,
this was me, us in breadth, as
the width stretched; all made bleak
sense, the beauty of what I had seen,
aye, not the beauty, but the death
of souls, the darkness and fumes,
the use of deadly tools to justify
what it meant to evolve, I saw this
earth of mine revolve, I saw back
to the monkeys, the primates
of the time of the illiterate wise,
shackled still to my sense, shackled
still to my humanness, a quagmire
is where I found my sanity in, yes,
a dissipating being, before I declared
self as a sentient being; all changed,
aye, all exploded from within, the
slideshow of history became clearer
than before, pieces of me scattered,
every part of I spread and smudged the
slideshow of the reality I had marvelled upon,
forth there I was, all but one,
I lived the privilege and the bittersweet
melancholy in those ancient villages,
aye, I aged and became a sage and
simultaneously I aged and sat on the
street corner of the ghetto, the shore
where the ocean of intellect found
it’s shore, aye, I sat by that corner store,
and I advised some with needles smudged
into their bloody veins,
such a profound sight of debauchery I
thought, aye, this was I, I swallowing
the wisdom of the dead shamans.

I felt the joy and sadness, gave birth
and aborted infants, I hung self
from a roofie sky, I tasted mine bloody
teeth, I swallowed the Gin, called
upon heavenly thunders, I dictated
what millions of lives would be like,
I shot heads off their spinal chords,
I belonged and grew less old,
I shat myself on that deathbed,
I was born, I was abandoned,
found self being chunked on by stray
dogs, I followed the sea, I smoked thy
holy weed; with small medium and larger co…,
I fell in love, and felt out of it, I felt in
hate and killed because of it, oh the beauty
and the sadness, how savage some had
lived to where they had found self upon,
I flew self like eagles, aye, Da Vinci I became
him too; the Shakespeares and their
erectile dysfunctions, the rabbis and
those spewing out their tantalising lies,
the eye colour changed various times,
the truths and the thick tasty lies,
I fell back on various beds many times,
I felt the existentialism and the justified
racism, found self praying at various
pilgrims, I was flimsy and strengthened,
I sat with the old as I had become old too,
I had the Spanish flu and the Black death too,
I became a Pharaoh and was enslaved
by the same regime, this was the gleam, the
beauty of the sadness that we read and
marvelled upon, the confusion and the
repulsion to faith, faint; all fading
slowly; aye, slowly I saw the kingdoms,
the African Igbo, the Kalahari cities, the
galactic fallacies, the beautiful anarchy
of the world in its brokenness and it’s
beautiful times, the various crimes
and crime scenes filled with bloody slime,
oh, the disgust or the disguise that humans
tend to wear, hear I, screaming with all my might,
this was I, having had enough I asked
to be once again saved; tired of serving
time I felt the gloom, the doom,
however, I forgot to see as everything bloomed.

I perused and perused for sanity in all this,
I cried and kept melting away with every
life that got lived, I crept and swept
what was left of my sanity in all
of these billion lives being lived, the
simulation that lacked reason, oh, the
golden age of nonsense, this was
what we lived for, aye, the purpose,
the illusions, the self-created deception,
the chase of riches, the search for thy b*tches,
leaches; all we were, destruction by every
life being lived, every man an island,
every man; all but one, consciousness
being one, oh and we did not see
it from the beginning of time; then
it suddenly hit me while I stood in
that gulley; time never aged; aye,
time died when it began; time died
after it’s own birth; and what we lived was
merely a shadow of it; time is a dead babe
I cried out; there is none; there is nothing
at all.
SUDDENLY:::::::::::
Aye child, ‘NOW YOU SEE IT’,
as she hung from a tree, lynched and dying,
I gazed at I, I had lynched Nehanda on
some false cruel ideal; colonialism and
racism, I had become the true I…

By Eugene ‘Philosophisticater’

Artwork By Tomasz Alen Kopera

℗ Philosophistication Poetry ℗

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