bearded enthusiasts

one found refuge

it must be a sectarian way of life, maybe students, bearded,dark eyes shining and pupils dilated, a bit drunk, in hormonal enthusiasm, discussing ardently hypersexuality, the girls and women between boredom and fascination, one slim young man silently texting in his mobile, a broad and more obese one wordlessly blowing smoke rings and changing from supporting his chin to crossing his arms in front. he looks like the one who would be predestined to kill the other ones quietly outside, the slim one may be texting this to him in the chain of command.
but no fear, all this is democracy,
you can say what you want and nobody cares.

ps:
but one of them really looks a bit
like a young Trotsky: it's legal.

philosophically not speaking

philosophy must reach

the end of words

and a silence

deeper than a well

we keep on to talk

because when we go

deep inside we would

have to listen to echo

before we reach peace,

there in this depth

we find ourself

struggling

fighting

to be quiet and calm.

until nobody is there

everybody is too much.

even when the birds

will all be dead

we have to find

the sound inside

and lose it

to stillness.

now, philosophically

speaking:

is stillness peace?

yes

    yes i am alive

lost identity

lost identity

o i found it

radiating

from the deep

so often lost

in days and numbers

and blown away in 

longing for you

i touched your hand

and this cruel confusion,

imprisoning you,

you had to stay inside

to find you

and protect you,

to be alive

in the joy of you

i walk in riddles,

when i left

i left a part of me

now i am limping

remembering

your presence

as if you were

still here.

o i found you

i leave you

o i found it

radiating

from the deep