Lamentation of separation from Norris “Poem”

Oh God why Norris has an advantage to suffering than my own self?

Didn’t I know Planned my trip to Denver to find Norris?

Why is Norris like Zarathustra?

Why do I envy him?

Why not I be in place of Norris?

Why not I approach him before he does?

How can I sleep tonight?

He wants no help like I want no help?

What similarities we have yet so lamenting

Learning with Norris is unprecedented

How I hate witnessing my own self in another self?

Oh Arabic how much I hate and love Arabic

Oh how I wished to hammering chain’s

How I long for an Iraqi man to converse with?

How thankful I am for Iraqi soil to produce Such a beautiful Iraqi soul?

A tribute to Diogenes “Poem”

O Diogenes I wish to be your disciple now for some time to come

How cynic and how sublime your life was in Athens

What is Buddha compared to Diogenes?

Diogenes who lived with his insanity

Diogenes the mad men on street like dogs

Diogenes the homeless philosopher

Diogenes the con artist and wisest of all

What is this materialism? asks Diogenes

To hell with conformity and men and their customs

Diogenes who appeared before plato in the academy with a chicken in his hands and proclaimed “Behold! This is the man of plato”

The art of not giving a fuck comes from Diogenes

Diogenes who exclaimed to Alexander the Great “Don’t block my sunshine and get out of my face”

Diogenes who told the kings son “human bones whether a slave or king looks the same”

Diogenes who governed men with reason and passion and madness

Diogenes is the Nietzsches mad men in the market searching for God and where is that God?

Esprit de cops to Diogenes and his intellectual ferment

Emotions “Poem”

What to do with my emotions?

Where is she?

Say no more O heart

This night like all other nights is full of sorrows and detachment

Lights I see all around and darkness in my soul

Men in State of War “A Gist”

Hobbes wrote “Naturally every man has a right to everything”

Hobbes thought “Men by nature are equal in a state of Nature and by difference enemies in a civil society”

A question comes to my mind while reading Hobbes which he elaborates brutishly

Why do men lock their doors in their houses before going to sleep?

Hobbes argues “What opinion a man has for his fellow men when he rides armed, of his fellow citizens when he locks his doors at night”

Hobbes further presents an antithesis “Does he who locks his door of the house at night not there as much accuse mankind by his actions as I do by my words?“

In a gist no one men is equal to another and safe by another and this brutish, barbaric state exist among men and animals which Darwin’s talks about as the survival of the fittest

Where to go? What to do? Abandon mankind?

We are at war with each other 24/7

What a shame on earth is human race as compared to other species

Not once men will be peaceful not once until the end of times or perhaps maybe to eternity

Why shouldn’t I be then a nihilist?

A Writer’s “Prompt”

I have more unfinished stories than friends

I have more books on my desk than a list of contacts in my phone book

I am writing 24/7 in my head always coming up with ideas and words

I always have overwhelming energy to write either early in mornings or late at night

A writer I mean by a truly passionate writer is always alone

Writing is a monstrous compendium

No one chooses to be a writer. For that reason I was born to be a writer

I am now a published author

A writer always prefers books to people

I like French more than English and I like German more than French and I like silence more than anything

I don’t like Arabic language simply because I could never understand it.

Born as a non Arab Muslim arabic language is and will always be a foreign whip master who demands Submission

I have identity crisis nor I am an Arab nor I am a Persian, nor I am an Indian nor I am white or black but brown

I stand for no flags or lands or governments I am at best a proud anarchist and iconoclast

My ancestors were the people of Indus Valley “Mohen Judaro or Harappa” is where I must have come from

At the end I despise all human interactions

At the beginning I loved Charles dickens and I love him to this day

Why all great writers and philosophers were white? Why not black or brown?

On the pleasures of Ego “Poem”

Ask not where those mediocre minds dwell?

Seek what there is not in the lines of great minds

Once you walk into the pleasures of ego there is no escape

Whole world and even God seems to be mediocre

One is ready to go any length to preserve one’s individuality

Normal and mere ordinary life of happiness looks mediocre

Madness and lunacy makes all sense but not conformity

Awake and arise my child the sun has not set yet within your soul

Such mind as yours O philosopher are born in centuries

Where is the wisest Socrates?

Hiding somewhere under a spell

For the reasoning of mind is always strangled to death by faith

A thorn from “Morning Notes”

A thorn of existence is wakefulness

A thorn in my flesh is suddenly arousing from my bed in middle of the night

A thorn to that day I was born and the day I will die

A thorn and millions thorns in my flesh

The euphoria of being in the world is a thorn

All started from that birth of a flower

A kind of flower with thorns

Non communication and madness

Never to be understood or cured

A disease is this thorn of consciousness

Lament the day God said “Let there be light”

Where is that light?

All I have is this thorn in my flesh, a bloody thorn and darkness

A thorn to rip my skin off and strip me naked and wise

Here take this thorn O child and ran away from people

All hail to wilderness where I can endure million thorns but no human existence

Aesthetic pleasure “Poem”

Schopenhauer writes in his masterpiece volume “World as will and Idea”

“Aesthetic pleasure; the deliverance of knowledge from the servitude of the will, the forgetting of self as an individual, and the raising of the consciousness to the pure will-less, timeless, subject of knowledge, independent of all relations.”

What universal genius resides in Schopenhauer’s writings

His intuition of the platonic idea is brilliant

How reading Schopenhauer makes me feel like I belong somewhere

Reading Schopenhauer gives me highest form of aesthetic pleasure

What petty trifling of Intellect cast away by contemplating oneself as a knowing subject and nothing more than that

What an escape from sufferings of the individual self

Oh how the world envy my being now! who have taken refuge from life into philosophy

On Hanging myself “Anecdote”

To hang myself All I need is a rope, a chair and a roof fan whereas the courage I have is momentous

Why then I am not hanging myself I failed to understand?

Why I study philosophy amounts to some madness left in me since a child

How last night I tormented myself of not being suicidal and mad

People say hanging oneself is always better than shooting

My roommate once drank a drainer and was unable to kill himself and he is still alive what a shame?

How do I fight nihilism?

Read more Nietzsche perhaps?

How about drowning oneself in a river?

Why do people commit suicide?

Why do people hang themselves?

Why do people go insane?

Where is Jesus?

Where is my innocence?

Where is my home?

Who I am? Where I am?

Why I am still alive?

Why can’t I just die? Why wait?

Grave diggers “Poem”

Watch out for those grave diggers

What have you done? You “Grave diggers”

Where are you taking my corpse?

Where have you buried me?

I can hear sound of the trumpet

I can listen to the howls and mournings of my death

Away with grave diggers this minute

Let my corpse be rotten

Let my corpse be burned at stake

Let my flesh be eaten by animals

What demons have taken possession of you O innocent child?

Grave diggers are looking my corpse

Away with grave diggers this minute

Where is God?

You madmen! Have you buried God too? You murderers

Grave diggers save me from those grave diggers

Fighting Nihilism “War of Intellect”

I am a nihilist and I am alive

I am fighting this on going nihilism

What courage and what greatness my mind possesses

I absorbed all great philosophical works and haven’t killed my self yet

What is this universal will a thing in itself with a little touch of madness Schopenhauer loves to talk about

I have waged a war against already established truths

I am fighting nihilism with a hammer

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POET CAFE - blog by Alex Markovich (42 y.o., Russia, author, artist, theater director)

Painting with words

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- Verse Seventeen -

Paper Life Painting

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Make Money Online

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POET CAFE - blog by Alex Markovich (42 y.o., Russia, author, artist, theater director)

Painting with words

Everything that I want to paint with words 🎀


Digital products and reviews


Just a personal blog. I'm not trying to sell you anything.


- Verse Seventeen -

Paper Life Painting

Visual works of Wayne Wolfson

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