For those of you who were not at the last club meeting, we all began talking about other creative outlets we utilize that really work together with our engagement in philosophy. Often times when I am reading a philosophy text there are numerous things that pop into my head other than objections or points that may need clarifying. For example things like sketches, a line or two of prose, a certain key or note on the piano, etc. The list is endless, really. For me, it is not always about critique, but rather it is about creating. Philosophy helps me to internalize other pieces of work like music, paintings, and poetry. Likewise, indulging in a piece of artwork helps to unveil new creative ways to approach what I study in philosophy.
Bottom line here is that, and I am simply speaking for myself here, philosophy is a much more creative process than the many think. The world of academia has, unfortunately, placed this shield over our eyes that ultimately restricts us from delving into that more creative, more open, field of expression.Many of you might argue otherwise, and that it completely okay. Feel free to share your thoughts.
Below are two of the first poems I wrote several years ago after spending a few days simultaneously delving in and out of Marx’s and Engels’ The Communist Manifesto and a few sections of the Hindu scripture Bhagavad Gita. Again, feel free to share your thoughts.
They’ll think they’re great
and boast and gloat and brag.
But soon they will see
their life is no more
than an absurd drag.
Putrid they are,
like wolves they hunt for prey
and feed off the weak
all night and all day.
Better sooner than later,
they will fall.
Kick them to the ground.
On their hands and knees
they will crawl.
Into the soil they will sink,
from the weight of their disgrace and shame.
Resonating so deep
they will go insane,
suffering in their own pity and pain.
Oh, will they feel pain.
So much so, they will not breathe.
Through their veins
their shameful blood will seethe.
Pour out on
and into the ground
where they now lie,
safe and sound.
And we will stand over them, looking down.
Of their own medicine
they have finally got a taste,
and now they realize
their tragic life of hate
was nothing but a waste.
Their Life of Misery, It is not Ours
My eyes are open, but I cannot see.
It’s too dark, it’s too cold, it’s too empty.
What I thought was my world is no longer what it seems.
I solely exist
in the shadows these days,
a place where I can only witness
the followers and their sad, thoughtless, and sickening ways.
as if they have no control.
They’ve all forgotten how to love, how to feel
they’ve forgotten they have a soul.
Has the desire vanished to live passionately and free?
I am lost. I am scared. I am tired.
that will never be me.
A life of misery I will not condone
while the fallacies of this place sit high on their throne.
One day when they are weak and vulnerable
their helpless minds will embrace what the wind has blown.
For we are not human beings living spiritual lives.
We are spirits living human lives
Surrounded by all the hate, anger, and lies.
What you seek will never be,
for it chooses to hide in the dark
through which you will never see.
If what you have sought
is what you wish to gain
then one must let go of all,
in order to attain.
The bliss, the peace, the contentment of that state
can only be achieved if one rids himself
of all self-indulgence, greed, and hate.
Take my hand, come with me
we’ll find the strength to pull through.
Together we’ll be, eventually.
I’ll find me and you’ll find you.