philosophy

Memory is the scribe of the soul

Aristotle : 384-322 BCE

if as Aristotle says
the chronicle of all our days
is scripted by our memories
from the soul’s propensities

then what is felt decides the past
thus how we loved is what will last

Grains

on disparate shores
the grains of sand
cast here and there
by wind and wave
and weathered time
know not their fates.

Thus are human souls
equally destined.

The Cleansing

what pleasured thoughts they be
on our departed souls to ponder
should they in afterlives be free
to with one another wander
and in that ether would we find
that which life had us denied
a congruence of common mind
that in eternity resides.

Heed Not

heed not the prophets
as in their zeal they forget
how human we are

SAECULUM OBSCURUM

is it mankind’s lot
to tolerate the darkness
for enlightenment?

Souvenirs

leave all souvenirs behind
for too quickly passed the time
and memory cheats us of the days
we’re yet to meet that come our way.

Inside

Inside each poet,
as we all in someway are,
is the heart of a painter
yearning to bleed
on imagined canvas
its very lifeblood
for the sake of redemption.

contemplation

what use versed philosophy
for we destined as dust
flesh that’s cursed to turn to ash
consciousness to rust?
the reason then is fleeting salve
a balm impermanent
to make from rhyme a reason
for our transcience.