I think, therefore everything is false. Everything is a construct of my mental capacities and my ability to interpret the term "reality." There is no nonfiction. There is only what we see.
There once was a King named Derek, whose people were uncertain, whether he was the king, or his brother Erik.
but to dissuade their fears, and wipe away their tears, he sang "Oh, me; Oh my, here's to you all! Cheers!"
All drank their free booze, their mouths drunk with ooze, and awe-ze, "To Mighty King Derek," then they upon their respective places, snooze.
And the King, having drank nothing, but Vit-Ah-Min water, Was sad and lamenting at the faceless thing, that were to people, so easy to falter, from one extreme, well, to anything.
"Oh, sheepish people" he woed, "such as I must rule...how to I treat them as more than a contemptible foe? When they prefer blood, an eye for an eye, and I want justice and equality? How do I sway their vice?
Oh, does this world even exist? Oh, and oh" on and on he did persist.
King Derek, the philosopher king, King of a people prizing only bling: material wealth, and empty gain, cauzed this king nothing but pain.
Oh King Derek, the blinged, philosopher king, the people are mad; don't be so sad, but know this isn't a dream.
Your place is here o King, retreat not to your tower, in madness and woe you sing, but take time to see the flower however lone it might be it is, so are you, just Be.
2 comments:
Yes, to an extent, but does that mean anything? Whether construct or not, real is "real."
Like, blue is blue whether we want it to be or not; once we label it blue we can't deny it's blueness.
There once was a King named Derek,
whose people were uncertain,
whether he was the king, or his brother Erik.
but to dissuade their fears,
and wipe away their tears,
he sang "Oh, me; Oh my, here's to you all! Cheers!"
All drank their free booze,
their mouths drunk with ooze,
and awe-ze,
"To Mighty King Derek," then they upon their respective places, snooze.
And the King, having drank nothing,
but Vit-Ah-Min water,
Was sad and lamenting at the faceless thing,
that were to people, so easy to falter,
from one extreme, well, to anything.
"Oh, sheepish people" he woed,
"such as I must rule...how to I
treat them as more than a contemptible foe?
When they prefer blood, an eye for an eye,
and I want justice
and equality? How do I
sway their vice?
Oh, does this world even exist?
Oh, and oh" on and on he did persist.
King Derek, the philosopher king,
King of a people prizing only bling:
material wealth, and empty gain,
cauzed this king nothing but pain.
Oh King Derek, the blinged,
philosopher king, the people are mad; don't be so sad,
but know this isn't a dream.
Your place is here o King,
retreat not to your tower,
in madness and woe you sing,
but take time to see the flower
however lone it might be
it is, so are you, just Be.
:-)
Random story poem #6
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