Tag: Existentialism

#PoeticAnswers 53 – Why Is The Sky Blue?

Some things are best explained by science
But today, it would be more fun if it wasn’t.
I’m not denying the truth by any means,
I understand the logistics of
Light particles and molecules
Traveling through the air
But I’ve already used up my
Metaphors regarding the visual light spectrum,
So today, let’s pretend nothing is real

It’s because in the beginning,
God used all the colours of the rainbow
To paint a world of many colours and cultures,
Radiant and vibrant, with so many hues and views,
Only to realise he forgot to use the blue paint.

Or maybe it’s because God
Tried to make the birds blue
With oil-based paint,
But they flew too close to the sky,
And it dripped and smeared
And that’s why the sky is blue

Planetary orbit is a lie,
And the Earth doesn’t go around the Sun,
Nor does the Sun go around the Earth.
But we yoyo in and out of
The inky black and blue of space
Which gets a bit brighter when it’s close to the Sun.

Because the sky is in a
Constant state of sadness,
But it’s not sentient enough to
Take the blue pills,
So it doesn’t know how to feel better.
It just feels clouded all the time.

Or are we all just colourblind,
And it’s not blue at all,
Just a colour that only the
Special and unique can actually see,
Secretly so much more,
Only visible during art and existential crises.

Question from Lynn P. from Facebook

#PoeticAnswers 99 – Are You Sure We Exist?

I think that I think I exist.
If thinking equals being,
Then I think that I exist.
But it’s not a conscious
Decision to will myself
Into this existence
And this is evident by
The persistent indecision
That I find myself facing
On a daily basis.

Because I’ve lived
My life thinking
“I think, therefore I am”
But I find I am in
A constant battle of
Positive versus negative
And logic dictates
I wouldn’t wish it
Upon myself so
Who did?

How would I know
If this wasn’t just
Some kind of crazy,
Inconsistent coma dream
From one too many
Car crashes, causing
Flashes of different lives
To flash across my eyes
In a systematic series of
Fortunate and unfortunate events.

Maybe this isn’t even me,
Maybe I’m someone else’s
Fantasy or hallucination,
A nighttime thought creation
Or process of dissociation,
A cultivation and culmination
And overall manifestation
Of stress and frustration
Or a figment of a
Perfect stranger’s imagination.

But at the risk of waxing existential,
I don’t think we’ve considered
The absolute potential of
Being part of an extraterrestrial
Game of The Sims.
Being trapped at the whims
And mercies of martians
Or deities who let us
Virtually have no control
In our lives.

Question from Justine F. from Facebook

#PoeticAnswers 84 – Why Is 42 The Meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything?

Physicists and philosophers
Have pondered the expanse of
Life, the universe, and everything.
They have been searching for an answer like
Addicts about to crack while hunting for
An honest needle in a haystack of politics,
Like the answer is a holy grail or
A point on a map that no one ever drew.
And then when a man said it was 42,
They didn’t know if it was the real answer
Or a note of latitude or longitude,

So instead of trying to take it further
They accepted it like
A man broken by a barrage of religion
As it battered down his door accepting
It’s doctrine as his lord and saviour.
Stooping and not stopping to
Question truth and reality until
It was too late.

But yesterday’s later is today’s now,
And we’ve began asking questions of
Why and how and when and why not,
Questioning the world and what we’ve got,
Acting like the status quo was just a band
And nothing more and now we’ve got
A lot more to stand for.
Like the truth.

So we asked and stripped down forty-two
With interrogation and maths,
Breaking it down into God Particles and
Jesus Lizards and quantum paths through
Space and time and time again,
Seeing what we want to see and
Finding we’re wrong and we’re right.
The constants are constantly changing
And the more we break life down,
We discover that maybe
Life isn’t made, it’s what we make it
Or life isn’t worth it at all.

But the truth is hidden behind a wall
Of uncertainty and fear and
We won’t look behind it because
Maybe it wont be the answer we’re looking for.
So I’ll move to believe in the great fourty-two,
And I won’t ask questions anymore.

Question from Hanne V.B. from Facebook