Epistemic

Late nights spent in deep meditation
A struggle between expansion and self-preservation
Ideological experimentation
Inevitably results in foundation's devastation

Certainty remains amongst dreamers and liars
A mere validation of one's deepest desires
Points of view change when validity expires
Ideas sold in the marketplace amongst a myriad of buyers

In A Silent Way

Mystery and beauty light the path of your essence
Confusion and desire emanating from your presence
The heart makes a loud noise on this silent day
The lone trumpet plays, "I love you in a silent way"

Many moments has the soul engaged in reflection
Introspection thus breeds a yearning need for connection
The eyes shout, but the mouth will still silent stay
The lone trumpet plays, "I love you in a silent way"

The lovely scent of your inner strength permeates the air
With undertones of a delicate touch and deep care
The ears listen, as one who is silent may
The lone trumpet plays, "I love you in a silent way"

You manuever like a goddess walking on eggshells
My soul sees your true beauty - captivating, casting spells
The hands reach, as I travel through this silent day
The lone trumpet plays, "I love you in a silent way"

Truth

"Forget what you heard, it's all contrary
To whatever truth you hold, and every truth will vary."
I once heard those words from a wandering visionary
They healed my soul like potion from apothecary

To know truth, is to know all perception
All views of clarity and all views of misconception
All results of deep thought and reflection
And all forms of verifiability and deception

So who knows truth? I say truth can't be known
Truth can't be demonstrated, truth can't be shown
Honesty is a trait to which man is not prone
And in reality, truth is something man cannot condone

Truth is not a product of religion
One man's truth is not another's and brings about division
A fool's good move is a sage's bad decision
And a shooter's bad aim is a dead man's precision

So I forgot what I heard, it's all contrary
To the truth I hold, I know that truth will vary
Daily I recall the words of that visionary
And let the potion heal my soul, I am the apothecary

A Teacher, Yet A Student

In me, pragmatism meets zen
My mind meets my heart like the start meets the end
I have no statements to amend
And no need to defend my points of view, instead I just ascend
Into the realm of the metaphysical terrain
A higher plane - it's really too hard to explain
At times I'm in the same vein as the prophets and the mystics
My life means more than just profit and statistics
My life is driven by the need to seek
By the need to express myself and be unique
By the need to converse, dialogue but not chatter
And instead get right down to the heart of the matter
Engage - in ideological exchange
Always willing to learn and increase my epistemic range
It sounds strange to fools, to me it's beautiful
A teacher yet a student - to me it's irrefutible

Nothing to hide/Something to hide

To me, you never walk - you always seem to glide
Subtle, but ever-present as hips move side to side
In that moment - I decide to swallow my pride
And take down my walls, I have nothing to hide

But then, I recall how you never call back
How you seem pre-programmed everytime we interact
I wonder what exactly it is that I lack
That doesn't allow for "us" to be a matter of fact?

If you want confidence, why settle for arrogance?
If you want compliments, why settle for negligence?
If you want chemisty, why settle for elements?
If you want someone to trust, why demand more evidence?

To me, you never walk - you still seem to glide
Subtle, but ever-present as hips move side to side
In that moment I decide that emotional suicide
Isn't worth it - you obviously have something to hide...

To: AER

I'm no stranger to matters of the heart
More familiar to reason, but sometimes I depart
To the realm of emotion, operate on a notion
But careful of the slippery slope and erosion
That comes with careless climbing and tread
Maybe I have no chance, maybe it's all in my head
Replaying every word that she said
And sorting between the ones I wanna hear from those that fill me with dread
I know I'm taking a chance in just asking her to dance
I know I'm not her ideal man to share romance
Adamant in her stance, at least that's my perception
Feel like a long lost king, no warm reception
But yet I'm confident, that with every compliment
I give to her she'll slowly become cogniscant
Of the fact that I'm the one who'll sit and listen
Among other things - and if not then she's the one that's missing...

Out

Slippery Slope

I once stared into the abyss
Saw the darkness in man's heart, and it's hard to dismiss
Like the memory of your first kiss
I keep trying to grasp pure bliss, but always seem to just miss

But the world keeps turning, and bridges keep burning
The smoke is on the rise, filling up the skies
Time flies, but it's no surprise
The concept universally applies like death in disguise

I take heed to the words of wise men that came before me
And the day is coming when you can no longer ignore me
Like a wolf amongst sheep
My river runs deep and calm, like a bomb that disrupts your sleep

And leaves your dreams broken, in a state half-awoken
But still your brain is soaking up the words that I've spoken
I'm hoping for love that's almost as strong as my pride
Which coincides with the rise and fall of the tide

We can't run or can't hide from the fact, that in this life we lack
Grounds to say that anything is white or black
Or wrong or right, really it's just how we react
To whatever hand we're dealt, and how the deck is stacked

I've cracked the code, a horse with no name I rode
Through the desert to my humble abode
Keeping my mind constantly in philosophical mode
Pondering thoughts that require a full college course load

To understand, commence the overcoming of man
Because the will to power's hour's at hand
Implement a new plan and watch the paradigm shift like sand
And bring about the last stand of supply and demand

Fukuyama

In the path I chose, I deal with blows, high's and low's
And my 95 theses that at times is verbose
Byproduct of prose that moonlights as ill flows
A canvas for me to expose and juxtapose

The way things are with the way things appear
More often then not, we don't see or hear clear
No use for reason, just instinctual base fear
The main catalyst for why we're even here

In the year of the end of history and the last man
The evil empire set to crush reason's last stand
Clap your hands and make noise for the last band
Enjoy it, because nothing can thrill us like the past can

The Written Word

Embellish the scenery with greenery
My mind works hard, you can call it philosophical machinery
It results in poetic output
Shapes my outlook, through my life narrow is the route took
Some call it sin, others call it apostasy
I call it mind power and exposing the hypocrisy
Within the church and the so-called democracy
I'm not afraid to challenge the bureacracy
At bottom it's complex, and reflects
The collective unawareness of the underlying concepts
Ignorance is the opiate of the masses
Running thick like molasses through all social classes
As time passes, in all I've observed
All I've seen, touched and heard is inherently absurd
Our vision is blurred and our speech is slurred
But don't rule out the power of the written word...

Subject To...

Any given mind state
Is subject to debate
Words that we create
Can cause one to levitate

Up to a higher plane
To transcend the pain
And in the same vein
Drown the constant refrain

As I stand in the waiting line
Seeking to find
Any meaning to mankind
None to be found in Wittgenstein

Or Russell, Hegel, Heidegger or Sarte
Philosophy does absolutely nothing for the heart
Nihilism eliminates a place to start
While religion focuses on where we depart

Reality is a house of cards built on sand
A simple concept yet hard to understand
A curious mind is subject to reprimand
By the aimless proponents of supply and demand...