I’m working on a philosophical masterpiece,
My grand vision, for
which I may or may not be remembered.
It will not appear,
however,
In a stack of boring,
pedantic volumes
Compiled in the halls and
classrooms of some stuffy university.
It won’t live and die
covered in dust
In the back of some
library’s collection of obscure works.
It will be written in
tears
In the hearts of
beautiful women.
The cardinals and linnets
and wolves will guide my hand
To the opera of the
forest.
My book will be composed
on the dirt roads
In the most remote
corners of the globe
In laughter, in sweat
In cries of agony, desperate
pleas for mercy.
My ideas will live on
with my brothers and sisters
And children, should they
be themselves a chapter.
Under the stars, in
loneliness,
In the passion of a
lover,
In the coo of a newborn
fawn
And roars of the stormy
midnight
My philosophy will let
itself be heard.
***
(Minneapolis, MN -- February, 2018)
I love philosophy. I'm a huge philosophy nerd, and I even have a BA in philosophy. However, the thought of being an academic philosopher and spending my life analyzing minor details of other people's theories bores me. I'd rather put my ideas into poems and stories and to also let my life itself be an expression of my ever-changing thoughts on philosophy.
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