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“on transience”
At time of age I watched ants,
at a time I embraced chaos from
a glance, day to day in acceptance
of nature dancing out her ways,
survival and Darwin’s thesis in act.
Then once upon a moment, a praying mantis
marveled at the sight of me from
an anthill, worshipping and awaiting
her slaughter by her peers, she glared deep
and deep into my being, a young man,
a folk about to have his whole reality
scathed, muffled and rewritten by an insect;

Poor yé, child of satire, all
has been seen, from scenes of
disgust and lust, crimes becoming
just, it’s all a treadmill of who gives
a gigantic f*ck, from the prayerful
to the sinful, the learnered and the
unlearned, from the wise to the idiotic,
the stupid and the those of pulpits
and winged cupids, it’s all loosely
amusing. Thinkers intruding and
observers deluding and evoking
visions of meaningless mutiny, from
breathing to articulating breathing,
from belief to atheism; the tree still
loudly falls alone in a forest, from your
nonexistence a sky still will utter
a forecast, from a boiling of an egg
a child is still born, all so unrelated and
related, meaning is a twinkling star,
Sartre’s thinking still caters to the lost and
trickling, meaning is a clean pebble at
a junkyard, meaning is a clean squiggle
on a dirty tombstone, meaning is the
meaning behind what meaning means,
meaning is a dead donkey in the North Pole,
meaning is an accidental lisp unheard!
Now you shall grow to fish for worth,
to fish for material, find a norm and
kindle it, find a belief and sentimentally
embrace it, follow laws, fear lores of
violence and war, fear the beyond, so
spend life preparing to live in another
lore, wait and stop!

Life is a loop of joint consciousness,
existing to believe you’re existing,
existing to believe existing is absurdity,
existing to search for the meaning of
existing, perusing for ecstacy syringes
to inject meaning into every heartbeat,
kissing articulated thoughts of another
heathen believing in what another
isn’t believing in, scorched by the ashes
of dead doubtful thoughts, existence
is a meme, each has its moment,
each has its time. To live is no
abstraction, to live is to grasp Siddhartha
and see how living is a harmony of
dying animals feeding on each other,
circle of life, significance in all of life,
its cynical to believe we change the tide,
sake being survival, sake being to
live, for life is longed for, so drink your
Sake and grasp your unimportance and
make that an importance.
Understand the shell, one within
which you dwell, peel the scales and
see the waste, you’re beings waiting
and awaiting to flee from the grave,
internally slaves to the life meant
not to be enslaving, within you’re empty;
within the depths of the deceased,
those with egos decreased, where
decrees of purity create a creed
of righteousness, where philosophies
are shuttered and mindsets become
fuels of existential bummers; there,
that’s where you urn yourselves, that’s
where you earn a self, live in your worlds,
cults and suitable suit able beings,
failing to see that we are all Sea!

Poor yé, child of satire, unplanned
grave, thus, unmarked, unplanned
life; vortex of delights and bad lucks,
living biomes believing they are much
more than that, you’re as much of
insects than us, conscious of the
open awaiting oblivion that you’ll
never grasp, conscious of your
fears of endings without seeing
the credits, maybe we’re all reincarnated
or we merely serve purposes of
feeding the earth and never
appearing again, or a Godhead
exists outside of our own heads,
or we’re all lost at a sea of possibilities,
fearing to drown in logic and
see that we’re less than observed,
so obsess on significance, sigh
when you’ve deadends then walk
back not ruining anyone’s day,
for this life shall consume without context..!

Then at that time of age another
consuming I observed, ants feeding
away on the praying or the preying,
then back into my shell I went,
understanding how gloomy it
can all be, little boy; light from
his flame dimmed to a candle
“on permanence”

By Eugene ‘Philosophisticater’

Artwork by Can Pekdemir

℗ Philosophistication Poetry ℗

2020 All Rights Reserved ©

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