Philosophical Poetry - Poems on Life, Love & Truth

Poems on Life, Love, and Truth

Breath Exchange

We breathe in
From nose up
To our mind,
And we exhale down,
An offering from mouth
To earth’s trees.

A very simple
beautiful cycle.
Delicate and vital.
One couldn’t exist,
If the other falls.

Earth provides the atmosphere,
We replenish it,
The balance is clear.
This Earth, a home,
Not ours to drain,
To plunder for profit,
For wealth and greed.
The chasm between
The rich and the poor.

Though all share
The same air to produce.
One atmosphere,
Enveloping all.
A borrowed breath,
A life returned,
In this resonant rhythm,
We are bound,
A reciprocal breath,
Sustains all life.

Filed under: 🜂 Other – reflecting on connection, relationships, and the spaces between souls.
Color the Magic

The sky above
Griffith Park is
Black and white,
A canvas primed.

Ancient light,
Millions of years old,
Dances gracefully
On a black surface
Of the universe.
Painting the seasons
With cosmic hues.

Stars holding hands,
Singing so brightly.
I climb the hill,
Bathed in the glow
Of the moon’s gentle smile.

And I watch the trees
Breathe. Inhale,
Exhale.

Leaves chatting
Each other up.
Colorful threads,
Connect the leaves,
To the sky’s light.

Connect the leaves,
To the forest,
And all of its life.
Connect the leaves
To me.

A surrender
In wonder.

Colorful threads,
Love.

Revealed.

In every breath,
In every beam.

Filed under: 🜃 Infinite – exploring the unseen forces behind creation, truth, and existence.
Lines

Boundaries blur,
Borders break.
Tension builds,
Voices rise.
Patience wears thin,
Like a fraying rope.
Lines are crossed,
When the screaming,
starts.
No one listens.

Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.
The Stories of My Tears

Every night, as far back as I could remember,
I shiver. I cry myself to sleep.
It was the only way I knew how to fall asleep,
The only feeling I knew.

Tears are my friends. Each tear is a story,
A real life tale with colorful characters,
And the self I only knew through struggle, pain
And a mind separate of the body.
What I knew was not what I did.

The environment was hell, and the characters lost.
There was no writer, nor a script.
It was always impulse, reaction to an escape
Of a struggle within a struggle.
There was no time to pause.
A moment of reset could not be found.

I do not count sheep, I peeled tears.
I escaped so far away,
I lost the captain seat of my body and actions.
Born autistic, with no diagnosis.
Literally forced yourself to speak,
But words don’t come out right.

Born in a family of migrants,
Trapped in a civil war.
Unwelcomed anywhere.
At home, at school, outside in the neighborhood.
The only escape is the mind.

Every obstacle overcome was never good enough.
Constantly chasing normal.
And in my mind I know.
Yes, everyone is constantly chasing normal.
And we are all tired.

Can I be me? Can I find me beneath the graffiti?
Live your life. And I’ll live mine. A dream.
Can I live my life?
Mine will always include tears and smiles.
But know that my voice is mute.

I am too scared to speak my mind.
Always beaten whenever I spoke from the heart.
The soul is the only dialogue. Loud or mute.

At the end of each day,
All of the grima from the excessive stimulation,
A volcano inside is ready to erupt.
I take a very deep breath,
To bring light into the volcano, and simply live.

I escape for a fresh breath of another day.
The only possible faith, and only choice,
Is to believe in today, and in tomorrow.

Living such a life, God can only be found
In little moments. Not some place far away,
Nor living in my house.
I am in his house, and therefore,
He is in my moments.

Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.
What Else?

From the deeper recesses of my brain,
I call forth whole worlds,
Whose births are unto galaxies,
From the tongue and fingertips.
They are bright spatial plains I create.

Then comes my magnificent creations,
Around which others revolve
Without knowing what compels them.
I attract.

Even though the gravity
Of producing pulls within my bones
I grow tired,
Listening to whispers similar
To that of a black hole,
Sometimes I rest,
Satiated by someone else’s food,
But the meal is empty.

I still carry on.
Whenever it fails
To elicit any interest from me
In isolation,
I move forward on the path
As impenetrable as a diamond.

What else is there for me
Except dying or creating?
I offer my own interpretation of the universe
Singing into the vast emptiness.

Filed under: 🜃 Infinite – exploring the unseen forces behind creation, truth, and existence.
Curiosity’s Compass: The Alchemy of Purpose

The flame of knowledge and curiosity
Should merge in the dance of life.
What do I know? What explodes my amazement?
Here unfolds strength, my gift to the world.
Who drinks from my pool of knowledge?
Whose lives are influenced by my “why’s”?

This is the point of confluence where vocation thrives,
As a fruitful garden is punctiliously landscaped.
How have they developed “my babies”?
What feelings take root in their hearts?
The meaning of a well-spent life is found
In the mirth and progress of others.

We come into this world
Without being complete,
Yet can be said to have everything
Necessary for making our tune.
Life is like a canvas waiting for my hand
To paint chords where we belong.

Thus we put names on things,
Adding our own words to the great song,
Not to jostle but rather to augment
– A melody of joy intermingled with sorrow.

We make use of eyesight for what is visible;
Touch things that are tangible,
And sense the invisible presence hovering around us.
However, Mother Earth’s deep heart,
Gaps in space,
Are still a sealed book and
Beyond our ken.

The pathway to wisdom,
Knowledge interwoven with curiosity,
Is lit on through seeking, sharing, and reflecting.

Filed under: 🜃 Infinite – exploring the unseen forces behind creation, truth, and existence.
Happiness

Happiness once said to me,
“Walk this path and you will find paradise.”
So I rushed, I ran and I suffered,
Blind to all but the promised reward.

Until I met sadness who said to me,
“Don’t rush there, man or you will find nothing.”
Of course I accused him of being a liar,
A rain on my sunny dreaming.

So I set my mark and walked the dark tunnel,
Each step echoing with hope and fear,
Until I found my paradise,
It seemed so near.

I raised my hand to touch it,
Fingers trembling with desire,
And I found nothing but mud,
My dreams sunk in earthly mire.

Yet in that mud, a seed might grow,
Of wisdom earned, not freely given.
Perhaps true joy lies not in chasing,
But in living each moment, fully.

Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.
Empathy’s Weight

I can feel your pain,
Whispered in my bones.
Your struggles are now mine,
An unmentioned burden that I bear silently.

Every story told to me,
Every tear I see shed,
My heart is weighted down,
A storehouse of sorrows.

As understanding deepens,
So does sadness grow.
It is a strange bond:
The nearer I get, the more I hurt.

Yet, through this hurt comes a revelation:
Life does not issue blame,
Only learning etched into experience.

We stumble and we fall
And then stand up again
Every mistake is a teacher
Each sorrow is our guide

No villains, they say in the allegory of human experience
There are only students
There is no failing again

But if I must bear
The load of a thousand lives
For I can endure knowing:
This is a school where we are all pupils
This is school where all of us are learners
But let me tell you something –
This place is a memorable and beautiful college

Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.
Faith is Recognition

Invisible world out.
Beyond what eyes can see.
Faith, the key,
But how can we calculate it?

The hidden force that is known
We recognize it
Only believing by faith
But wisdom’s source
Giving the unknown a name.

That is what faith is.
What depths of cosmic stream.
Mind supports campaigns
Which neither sense of logic nor thinking helps out.

Quantum worlds and mystical thoughts.
In the wilderness faith finds a pattern
Where no other man can find one.

Nothing can touch us
But we are touched.
Faith and knowledge move side by side.

Transformational power lies
To recognize is to transform.
Our inner norm takes its shape from faith
It endeavors into infinite potentialities.

Filed under: 🜃 Infinite – exploring the unseen forces behind creation, truth, and existence.