The Philosopher Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

Philosopher, the world is yours,
Thinking is yours
And the mood too your own,
Philosopher!

The idea is yours,
Delving too yours
And the art of dwelling far
And lapsing into.

You of your own mood
And delving
And dwelling,
Philosopher!

Thinking is yours
So your idea,
So your imagery
And imagism.

Visionary,
Dreamy,
Imaginative and brooding,
Where dwell you?

Philosopher,
What your thought and idea,
Philosophy and thinking,
Vision and dream?

Philosopher, I will not stay it here,
You too will not,
But your philosophy will
Foryear after year.

Philosopher, you live in philosophies
As the world yours,
The world is yours
And mine is a poor lot to plod.

Philosopher, I am a poor man
With a poor lot of mine,
I a poor man
With a poor destiny of mine.

Philosopher, you take me away,
Take me away
As want I not,
Want I not to live here.

Philosopher,Philosopher,
My pain,
My pain you do not know it,
Know it.

How much, how much aggrieved,
Aggrieved am I,
Am I,
How much, how much pained am I at heart!

Sorrows rake me up badly
So trouble and tribulation,
Bad luck and bad times
Tearing me apart.

Bad luck,
Bad times disturb me,
Disturb me badly
Bad luck, bad times.

Philosopher, where to go,
Where to go,
Barring it,
Leaving it all?


Sometimes turn I into
An iconoclast,
Sometimes an iconographer,
Sometimes into a nihilist.

Sometimes nihilism,
Sometimes agnosticism,
Sometimes theism,
Sometimes atheism my solace.

Sometimes nihilism,
Sometimes agnosticism,
Sometimes atheism,
Sometimes idolatry my solace.

Sometimes iconoclasm,
Sometimes a strange vacuum
With vacant musings,
Lurking landscapes
Take me away to.

And desperately ask I,
Who am I,
Where am I from,
What my pathway end?

Who, who am I,
What my identity,
What my existence,
Who, who am I?

I ask and ask,
But there is none,
There is none
To answer me.

What is the beginning,
What is the end
Of the world,
Who to opine?

What the origin,
What the beginning,
What the end,
Who to tell me?

How was the world,
How was it life,
How the earth was,
How the things took a shape?

Some say
The world is nothing,
All but nothing,
Nothingness, nothingness writ large.


The world is absurd
So the things and times are
Full of absurd things,
Absurdities.

Why do we do,
Why are we here,
Whom are we waiting for,
Living for what?

There is none to answer,
Answer me
The existential questions
Raking me.

Who am I,
Where am I from,
What my name,
What my identity?

But there is none,
None
To answer me,
Answer.

In return say they
The world is religion,
Faith and piety,
Idolatry.

But what is the truth
That want I to know,
How the truth,
The ultimate reality?

There are also some
Whom say it
The world is atheism,
We in a godless universe.

Where is God,
Can you prove it,
Where is,
Who has seen God?

God, I searched Him,
Did not find Him,
God, I found Him not,
Oh, God was not!

Philosophy, after being frustrated in life
Abused I God,
Confiding in blasphemy,
Choosing doubt and suspense.

Perception says it, reality as it teaches me
There is none,
None my own in this world,
Philosopher, Philosopher!

I shall go away, go away
From this world,
I shall go, go away
From this world, Philosopher!

I shall not, shall not come back again,
I shall not, shall not, Philosopher,
I shall not come back again,
Philosopher!

Philosopher, nothing yours,
Nothing is but
Mine,
Everything but His, His,
I do not who that man.

What to do,
Where to go
As is the fate ordained by God,
As is human destiny?

On the unknown paths of life,
On the unseen paths,
Untrodden and untrekked
Have I pass through, pass through, Philosopher!