Savoir Au Revoir

I know it’s not your fault Poppy, You didn’t mean to leave, But when you did you took my soul, And now I cannot breathe. I think it’s what’s been haunting me, My heart without a friend, Cause they were close, my heart and soul, Until you reached the end. And then came Mama after you, She chased you through a window, And yet my heart grew foolishly, It let its guard down low. My soul has gone to visitRead more

Ephemera

There was a time when this memory was real. The time has passed, yet the memories don’t heal. Now as I sit, afraid to look back, I question if forward is present without past. My eyes are fooled by this charade, Future is ephemeral beyond that our lives fade. Do I need my enmity that’s shadowing behind, The thoughts of vicious devilry, the voices in my mind. Delve into my underworld where Sisyphus resides, An evade-all-mercy psychopath is running myRead more

Invisible City

The sky bled into white clouds that opened into light. Come into me. A twister cut the sky in half further away forming. The clouds were cut in half by the trail of a plane. The dark encroached on the break in the sky—the opening where she fell through. Nothing moved around her. The city was in the sky. Mountains above the oceans. How many shades of blue. And we are in the underworld. She evaporates into the city, throughRead more

P.O.E.

If grass of green were to judge skies Of dark and gloomy blue Before the sun had chance to rise And melt the morning dew, The grass should soon come to realize Because of rain it grew And sun looks better to ones eyes After storms pass through. That I of you want nothing more Than to be grass of green That does not by the rain keep score But by the fires you’ve seen. Unceasing sun becomes a choreRead more

Eulogy to Language

After these words are written, after they have been absorbed, only then will they be true. Because as I write them, everything they are supposed to mean is made false by their very existence on the page. It is when the words are no longer here, when there are no words in existence to express their absence, then they will mean what they desperately want to. Language is lying, not quite dead. And as it writes itself into its ownRead more

Dear Jonathan

Dear Jonathan, I just wanted to let you know why I could not complete this week’s assignment. Please bear with my verbose explanation. As I was out walking and brainstorming thousands of edgy approaches to completing the assignment (all of which would have surely been spectacular stories if the “incident” had not happened), I came across a gothic style church. It was out of the way and behind a flat concrete wall, and I thought it would be an appropriateRead more

Black Beauty

As ugly as the hoofprint is, Beaten into God’s own pores, The creature that possessed the hoof, Is beautiful and dark. Blending in with what it conquers, With simple tired steps, Leaves deep subconscious prints. Then unknowingly moves on, Leaving dirt on its feet, And suffocating what was buried.Read more

Paper Hands

I lay next to you either for the last time, or for eternity. Your paper hand in mine. My hair, white, as I never imagined it, though my reflection has revealed its truth for years. Am I not still a little girl? And your hair, brittle. Like your fingers in mine, placed, but not quite holding. And here we are, side by side, as we have been for years. Decades. The final race. Will you be first, or will I?Read more

Reflections in White Water

I was, at first, inclined to write about running away from my mistakes to the protective arms of New York City. But it snowed today. I forgot about all that had happened, and just took in the beauty. That is the power of New York. To one moment seem unbearable, and the next, make you believe that you are more than just a solitary human among a vast universe. Were we that insignificant, God would not waste his time onRead more

The D’s and the B’s

Finally! I am fulfilling my implantation duties! I! am! the chosen one! The latexed fingers of the surgeon squeezed the B-cup saline implant. From the beginning. Ah, the necessities of breast implants. The elastomer shell with its clever self-sealing filling valve on the front. Or the back! It doesn’t matter which, as long as when they’re filled with that silicone gel or saline, they expand like angry blowfish. And this is appealing to a large amount of men. (…?) Oh but theRead more

Representation as Misrepresentation: Ethics as the Source of Evil

NB: The definition of ‘evil’ that will be used henceforth is “immoral and malevolent.” For the sake of argumentation, I will not address the question of what “evil” is beyond this definition. Immanuel Kant contributed much to philosophy. His ideas provide a foundation for many of our present day arguments. Among other works, he is famous for his Critique of Pure Reason as well as his Groundwork for the Metaphysics of Morals. Adolf Eichmann is famous for standing trial asRead more

The Language of Torture

This paper was originally written in French and has been translated into English for Philosopagus.com. THE BATTLE OF ALGIERS The Algerian Question Europeans once made up the urban middle classes in Algeria. Muslims (of which there were eight times the number of Europeans) were poorer and less educated, and there existed political inequality. Algerian nationalism was formed in part by the National Liberation Front (NLF), which was comprised of those who wanted to take revolutionary measures. In 1954, the NLFRead more

Family Happiness

A family of four sits at a table for dinner. Together, all four. A square table. The mother stood over her empty seat next to the father, scooping out potatoes onto his dish. The son, the daughter, waiting patiently for theirs. There was no television, no radio, no candle. A family of four and a table, and that was all they needed. “Peas, please,” said the father. The daughter, not young, reached in front of her for the bowl ofRead more

Orpheu

An angel at the pearly gate, Behind these foolish bars, Plaster a smile for awhile, For you I will wait. These wings of mine are just for show, Mere feathers on the street, My love twice killed and your blood too, Will soon like lava flow. A thousand angels’ glistening sweat, Protects you from your fate, The beads of pure and dancing souls, Halt payment of your debt. We’ll meet again when wings are ash, Your deed must be returned,Read more

Two-Face

He sat in the velvety seat. And stood back up. The sun, fading to a distant point. He closed the shades over his painted window. Yes. A painted window alongside another, truer window, through which the sun streamed by day and the darkness violated by night. On the shelf, amidst the others, sat the book he had written. One copy, filed by print date. Before his hair had been salted and his eyes had drooped he had taken a penRead more

Black Orchid

She sat upon her father’s grave, the hum of death still loud in his ears. One day she would know that sound, and then would know nothing else. The orchids in her lap, her skirt over her knees like a blanket. Her tiny backpack by her side, red, yellow, blue. The wind blew in, and Death himself followed, winding his long bones around each stone. He slithered up behind the girl. She felt the change in weather. She didn’t haveRead more

Blue

‘Trust me’ said the ocean, vast and deep atop pearl sand, but raw sand’s had pearl stripped before while ignoring the truth ‘I do not trust you ocean, for your waves are dark and strong I think you use safe blue as lure, you’re preying on my youth.’ But why the honest ripple do I see from time to time? can I trust that I can’t trust when clear blue does show through? Beneath the gripping hand of depth, theRead more

The Murder

She stands at the mirror unable to see, The cloth darkens her eyes. And her lips drip with red and her tongue like a snake’s, With her wrists bound as one they leave blood on her spine, and she laughs, without eyes, at what she would be. She looks out from the glass at her own writhing corpse, Her jaw locked with bars she can only observe, She torches her eyes and flames tear through her soul, And she screams,Read more

Philosopagus Seven 008

1) One bag on my shoulder, one held by the strings from my elbow, a potted tomato plant in hand. 2) I feel the weight. I use my ticket as a bookmark. Waiting for the rails to simmer. 3) The train platform leaving home seems sad. 4) Balancing on the line between what’s behind and what’s ahead. Alone I balance with my cumbersome baggage. 5) I look back and see your car pull away. To go back home. My home.Read more

Pages in the Wind

She walks along the beach, her hair in long knots behind her. Out into the ocean, she looks. Then back down to her bare feet on the cold sand. Her notebook held closely to her chest. Do it. She thinks. She contemplates giving in to the urge to toss the pages into the water. To lose them forever. To feel exhilarated for a moment, and then to feel despair after it becomes real. She won’t do it, of course. She holdsRead more

Philosopagus Seven 007

1) I leave you now, to see you never again until the death of time. A journey I must take alone. 2) Though I am full of love, my hand drops yours. I am fearful of the unknown. I walk on. 3) You will think of me. I will not think of you. I will not miss you. I will extinguish our connection upon my first step. 4) You will be left alone, but not alone as I. I willRead more

The Girl in the Glass

There she is, the girl in the glass. She looks at me, and I forget who is standing in front of her. The stranger in the mirror, no longer recognizing me. No longer the girl looking back. She moves forward. I grow, closer to her. And then she walks away, out of sight. I disappear. She is captivated by me. She looks at me, at herself through me. But only I have seen her. I feel her forget her selfRead more

Philosopagus Seven 006

1) The red garland. I always handed you the tape backward. Always got cold putting the candy canes outside. Asked math questions late at night. 2) The garland: dust. The candy canes: melted. The questions: unheard. Locked in the past. Memories no longer shared. 3) My mind, alone, naked. Only half without yours. Lost. Bisected and bleeding on display. 4) Time cannot heal a halved mind’s memories, only change them. Turn them into lies. 5) With time you are lost,Read more

Euthanasia

The narcissistic necrophile kills himself and the wind mocks the silence of the still and the rain replaces tears of those he loved. And in the end he’s alive again and in a crowd he suffers becoming envious of those stillborn. The beginning of the circle reaches him again and he looks out from the bridge. High above the cemeteries tries to burrow into loneliness but grows winged feet. He cannot jump and has no hands his punishment is lifeRead more

Philosopagus Seven 005

1) I was already in bed when you got home from work that night. You used to tuck me in. Some nights I’d pretend to be asleep. 2) One night you waited silently at my bedside. I listened, pretending. Waiting to hear you leave. 3) I can’t remember why I pretended to be asleep. Prognosticating what’s to come years later. 4) I didn’t hear you. You must have left, not wanting to wake me. I slowly turn around in myRead more

Theseus Family

A Ship of Theseus family. Mother, Father, Brother. And me. Close. And then, Brother dies. And I regret, resent Time. Now I am a Mom, married to a Dad. A new family. My family? No. Not Mother, Father, Brother. And me. But then, Mother and Father pass. And all that’s left is me of this Theseus family. I replace Mother with myself as Mom, and Father with Dad. Two roles I am reluctant to recast. And a new little SisterRead more

Philosopagus Seven 004

1) “You abandoned me,” she says to her father. She must have forgotten. He sees the dark approach. 2) A shapeless voice from the dark is pleased with her perspective. “Yes,” says the dark, coiling around her waist. 3) She feels the pull, familiar. She knows that she is falling, but realizes too late. Her father watches, recognizing, extending his hand. 4) She recoils into the dark. It covers her shoulders, seducing her. She can see clearly in the dark.Read more

Ball and Change

I used to run to greet you when you’d walk through the door after work. I was small. Maybe it was 7pm. I’d hear the garage door before it opened. I’d hear you before the dogs heard you, because I’d be waiting, listening. And I’d hear. And then we’d all run over together, me and the dogs, and wait at the door. “Dad’s home.” Or I’d hide on the couch, the back of it facing the door, when I wasRead more

Philosopagus Seven 003

1) The wind walloped him. An invisible enemy, but he didn’t mind. The noise quieted his restless thoughts. 2) He looked out into the ocean, the same color as the unlit sky, blending into one another seamlessly. 3) Seamlessly. He searched for it. What exists within that invisible seam, between the ocean and the stars? The wind pushed him forward. 4) Not yet. He wasn’t ready yet. He held onto the rail of the peeling red bridge and looked out,Read more

L’Insoutenable légèreté de LIS

He stood, watching the sun burn out. Well. In his mind he stood. He remembered what it was like to stand. He remembers standing. How his legs felt, which muscles engaged, he never noticed. What is it to stand, anyway? He sat in his wheelchair, aware. He felt the cold. He saw the cold. He saw the nurse leaning down next to him, looking out. There she was. And where was he? He sat in his wheelchair, trapped. His legsRead more

Philosopagus Seven 002

1) A broken butterfly on the ground quivers in the wind. Its colors, once thick, dull. A hovering shadow reaches down with weightless fingers. 2) The wings: gossamer, shredded, discarded. Separated from their body, whimpering an inch away. The shadow: corpulent, a child. Laughing. 3) He holds the body, now flightless, grounded. The legs, protruding. No more. The antennae, alert, removed. Laughing. Years pass. Wings shred. 4) He holds the body. She struggles, silenced by words. Threats. She quivers onRead more

MIRRORЯOЯЯIM

I find it absurd: your face, straight-on.           There I am, inside of you. What are you made of, tell me, that my penetration is so unobstructed. So smooth. I slither around, my movements imitated. Is there a time lapse between my movements and your reflection of my movements? There must be. To be inside would be to break me. But to look: without your world, mine would not exist. I reflect just as emptily emptinessRead more

Philosopagus Seven 001

1) Christmas. The fog was too thick; the rain, loud. “Pull over,” she said. “Wait for it to clear.” 2) “We’re already on the highway. Almost there,” he said, patting the ring in his pocket. 3) He never listened. “I want to tell you something before we get there,” she said, hand on stomach. 4) The car jerked to the left, the windows shattered. Stop. 5) The other driver was fine. A cut. A bruise. The accident woke him up.Read more

Unspoken Words

If I had said, “It’s OK, we will be alright,” would that have made it easier for him to let go? The plane went down. And he was alone. I wasn’t there. And yet, it’s so present in my mind. He felt the force of the nosedive press his back against his seat. Or was that his arms, pushing down on the armrests, throwing his back into the musty blue seat? He tries to keep far away from the noseRead more

Phase 1

Phase 1. I am little. I learn to play the beginner’s version of “Sunrise, Sunset” on the piano. It’s fun. My father brushes my hair. I ask him, “How do we know that we’re awake and this isn’t a dream?” Phase 2. I’m working the summer before college. I missed my mother’s call. She wanted to have lunch. I realize it’s probably the last time we would have been able to do that, since I’m leaving for college. Phase 3.Read more

Blue Mary Jane

They were blue shoes. Navy. Mary Janes, I think they’re called. Well, it was just one shoe actually. A tiny, buckled shoe without a foot. I saw it there, the little toddler shoe, sideways in the street. The taxis passed by, but not close enough to run it over. Who would leave the shoe? It’s winter. It’s not so far into the street that the mother or nanny or father couldn’t reach down from the sidewalk and pick it backRead more

Ode to a Higher Power

It is beyond me to explain it, The circus of this existence. The level of sublimity has skyrocketed. We are palpably in another stratosphere, Light-years away. I am humbled by its greatness. My mere common sense is no match, For the divine idiocy, Of my manager.Read more

Sit DOWN

What time has passed! What time has passed? What time hath past, At last. Alas! Alas past hath passed Past past did pass, At last is past Passed at last. Dear Friends, In My Unforgivable Absence I Bring You…an ti ci pa tion. Anticipation. Is what? For if anticipation can build from nothing, out of nothing, is it anything at all? If nothing cannot be created from nothing, what have I given you? Nothing. And yet! Dear Friends. The anticipationRead more

Autumn Sonata

With the wind growing silent as the night moves in, The fallen leaves shudder once, a temptation of a sin. That time cannot be shorter once it’s already been too long, Think leaves that lie on the buried earth wishing they were wrong. To lure a cyclone back to dirt that lies still under grass, Only to recall that leaves will never be given the chance to pass, As low or green and if they were they’d dessicate and crack,Read more

Flight of Mind

In search for one I found the rest, And realized I am second best, For greatness lies in only those residing with the less. If with himself is that which whom he truly is impressed, Then one must flee his habitat which has his mind oppressed.Read more

Illusion

Crumbling angels fall to dust, Fractured souls of the guilty. Between the cracks is endless dark, The color of the filthy. Translucent is the surface, Of an angel’s naked breast. A vengeful heart reveals itself, Decaying and possessed. God had lied, given false eyes, To he who sought the truth. The angel who had come too close, To the ghost of God himself, Revealed the fractured soul of God. As punishment, he fell. “I traveled to the depths of Hell,Read more

Adam

Underwater I awake, with empty lungs beside a snake, With bloodshot ears upon deaf eyes, I know the world without disguise, I taste the ocean mixed with tears, and wait until I’m free from fears, I could not kiss the lips of Death underwater without breath.Read more

The Descendent

The color was supersaturated. After I walked past the green and pink plants plastered against the heavy midnight screen, I wondered where the moon was. It was unnatural. Perhaps I should have gone back. I pushed through the gate, which locked behind me. I didn’t mind; I kept walking. “Trust me, says the ocean, vast and deep atop pearl sand.” And I search for an honest ripple. The moon perches on the ink. My feet are pulled into the water.Read more

Passing Trains

“Sometimes, before the smile actually hits your lips, it peers out through the corners of your eyes, on the very sides of your face, and it makes you look old. But at the same time, the lines belong there, because they’ve been there so often in the past that it makes your smile seem permanent, even when you’re not smiling.” He touched the side of my face with the back of his hand. “Another train.” He picked up a sliceRead more

Forget Me Not Black

Without darkness I cannot see. The light is blinding. For as long as I walk this earth I will seek the dark event horizon, and struggle to climb from the depths once fallen. The light at the end is a trick of the mind. There is no light beyond this horizon. I walk further into dark to find it. A shimmer, I see, and am plunged into darkness. The velvet black comforts me. I know it is real. The smilesRead more

Death and the Girl

I used to be afraid that if I feared Death, He would sense my weakness and seek me out. I always reasoned “I am not afraid to die, just not ready.” I created myths about Death residing in the dark oil spots on the street, and the only ones who knew what the marks really were were those who had seen Death. I imagined how Death would drag my brother into the woods at night and keep him there forever.Read more

Closer

There were pants hanging from the ceiling. Shoes attached. Shirt resting above the belt loops, supporting a swollen face. The veins in his eyes protested this, and red bloomed like ink from beneath the hazel. He was not dead yet. He hadn’t even tied his wrists. I suppose he figured if he decided it wasn’t for him, he would simply step down onto the table next to him, take a shower, and go to work. That’s what made him soRead more

Why Should We Not Feel Anxiety About Death?

Death can only harm in the anxiety it creates in life. That is to say, treating death as consciousness of one’s annihilation creates apprehension in the minds of the living. One should not treat death as consciousness of his annihilation, but annihilation of his consciousness. In doing so, the anxiety created due to the understanding of death as consciousness of one’s annihilation is destroyed. Death is not harmful in itself–meaning that Death is not harmful in death, where “death” isRead more

La Mort

I. La Mort It exists. I know it is real. I see it. The red soaks into my hand through my coat. I should feel the pain. I know it is somewhere–but it’s an invisible pain. The elevator door opens and they walk past. Do they walk past? Have I changed positions? They do walk past. But I am dying! What chance that I had not pierced my own entrails a second earlier. How would the crowds have changed? ThatRead more

Dandelion

The grey hairs of a dandelion, Blown to pieces by a fly, Blindly float beyond their grave, Then settle down nearby. Like the grey-haired dandelion, Dispersed and sprouting new, I learn to live at wind’s request, With broken wings I flew. Nestled in the air a hundred feet from up or down, I ponder which small fly it was that turned me upside down. As I safely land amongst a fresh tomato patch, I thank him for his small mistake–aRead more

La Vide

Is it so dull that I have cast away sadness and found that I am missing it? There is a gargantuan crevasse that is all-consuming and obliterates my sense of self. I am left solely with an expanse of nothingness. Complete empty, as though if it were the case that there existed no space and no time, this would be my soul. I have accepted that eternity does not exist. So I live for the present. But as I analyzeRead more

The Fall of the Beetle

I crawl on the outside of the window more free than he, trapped in a penthouse. Worming upward. 20 stories is not high enough for me. He sits on the ledge inside thinking: This is too high. It is too close to God and he must now make me miserable.  How did he overcome the solitude previously? I wonder. Was it because he had an illusion to look forward to? And what will become of his solitude when he realizesRead more

Subway

I rode the subway today with no destination in mind. With me were three people I did not know that had met up randomly during our individual attempts to complete the same physics lab. I watched the doors open urgently as if to vomit out the passengers. The crowd. And the loneliness. My three companions headed toward the same unknown as I, searching for honesty–for a clarification to a question that none of us can formulate. Perhaps finding the answerRead more

Butterfly Lenses

I watched the camera blink as the picture was taken. There I was, the background, staring right into the future eyes of a family I do not know. How many other people’s pictures am I in? Pictures that they cut up, cut me out of, and discard. The unknown in the background–the “extra.” But this one–I will not be an extra in this one. When they take that camera to the pharmacy, develop the pictures, ogle at all the photosRead more

Theseus’s (Relation)ship

My ceiling is new. No, it is not new. It is new to me. Here I lie, watching my not-new ceiling exist. We stare each other. But I AM, and it is not, even though it exists. How can something fail to Be, despite its existence? A paradox I am unwilling to explore, as I stare at my ceiling. It is an impostor. It is not my ceiling, but a replacement. I call it my ceiling because so many partsRead more