This poetry collection holds the poems submitted for the 5th Poetic Philosophy Gathering.
Event Details
2026 5th POETIC PHILOSOPHY GATHERING
Date: Saturday, 27 June · 6:00 – 7:00 pm
Time Zone: Europe/Athens
Link: https://meet.google.com/izq-jjqo-vea
Facebook event link: https://fb.me/e/7QI9SXsfq
Submit your poems with DM, comment here, or via the Poetic Philosophy Contact Us page!
Submitted Poems
I
I am an angel
My name is Io
Existence in one spontaneous spark
Still the creation thunders
Instantly aware and knowing of infinity
And all its wonders
We commune
In that mingling I entwined Goss
We sang in the Holy place
Debated at the third tier
Bathed by pure crystalline
resonating prayer
I heard the mumblings
Knowing that only holiness can be in heaven
So in that battle of wills
The third had their goodness chained
Harrowed till only the lower shrieking
Sliders of bad remained
I beheld Goss cast down
Writhing beneath cloaks
Of arrogance and pride
Honed to perversity
With any goodness
Lost for the eternity
Then the unleashing
They came as an undulating horde
Ravenous for souls
Politicians and chancers with false gold
to share
What had been foretold
They had not followed
The Word
Taking paths of deception
Logon away from Logos
Away from divine
To the irredeemable supine
It is foretold
The anti-Christ will be charismatic
Yet none of this can be discerned
In the democratic tomes
And earthly rooms
Of motions, amendments and second homes
The evil I knew came in a clash
Not the mundanity
Of this ruling trash
Instead considerations
Of the humblest
Came the machinations of the globalists
Sacrifice on their
Alter of desire
Children, nations
They conspire
The fall of all that good
All that is dire
To make a common land
Ruled by Goss and his band
Writhing straining to kill
All the pure
One law, one government
Made obscure
For in those plans
From Ireland to France
They lead that merry dance
Forget freedom – forget family
We must all submit
To live with demons
In that pit
So with quiet levers pulled
So are souls brought and sold
As votes on a hill of shame
He rules who bears the same
Those globalists rebel against the cross
To preside under Goss’s boss.
~ Peter Hanlon
Untitled
Return to the Earth with lessons learned on material Greed
Back to the garden to plant some Seeds
And finally live with a mind that’s Freed.
Otherwise it’s……
Obedience to Deviants
Monopoly Game Ingredients
Divide and Rule Convenience
Dictating Our Experience.
All for the illusion of Control
Turning diamond into Coal
Know Thy-Self Know Thy-Soul
You the fragment is also You the Whole.
~ Jen Hall
One Tree
It stood when Christ walked earth below,
Its branches wide, its ancient glow,
A living thing of sky and sod,
A quiet work of nature’s God.
Magnificent from tender birth,
Rooted deep in patient earth,
Yet all that rises, all that lives,
Returns at last to what it gives.
Through countless years it reached the light,
Through storm and season, day and night,
Now laid to rest upon the ground,
Its end becomes what feeds around.
For in that fall, no loss is true—
The cycle turns, begins anew,
The hidden hand, the sacred art,
Breathes life again through every part.
From soil enriched by all we’ve done,
New rings of time are slowly spun,
From smallest seed to towering frame,
Each life returns, yet not the same.
We reap the harvest that we sow,
A truth the ages always show,
No deed unseen, no path unknown,
All things are weighed, all seeds are grown.
Not here to preach, for I have known
The weight of faults I’ve called my own,
For like that tree through wind and strife,
I’ve wrestled hard to shape a life.
My leaves were marked, my branches torn,
Yet still I reached each breaking morn,
Through shadowed hours and failing sight,
I leaned, however faint, to light.
And like that tree, though bent, though worn,
I trust that I may be reborn—
To stand once more, made clean, made new,
And grow toward what is good and true.
~ Peter Hanlon
Untitled
I prefer
to shower
with the lights
off
and fully
clothed
then stare in the mirror
in the dark
seeing
myself age
is hell.
Lumps and bumps
and weird
scars,
a sign of the
past
passing.
Passing shop
windows
without glancing.
And reversing
the car,
catching my
tired eyes.
I wear
gloves
at work
and at home
as I’m
terrified of
the brown spots
that appear
like some
demonic
dot-to-dot game
where
the dots
never join.
~ Tim Boardman
Breath
A world full of life
Tuned for my existence
Without asking me!
Now I look at my phone
Trying to understand
But the stars do not care
I can listen to them
(Whispering…)
We are all here so that you can Be!
And still, you question us
You need reasons, explanations
In a world full of life
You do not take life for granted
But you question it
Believing that the rocks and the stars are dead
That there must be a special reason for Being
Enough!
Stop asking
Breath…
~ Spyridon Kakos
Previous Poetry Collections
Winter Whispers Collection 2025
A light breeze [January 2026 collection]
Falling leaves [March 2026 collection]
Sunny Shadows Poetry Collection [May 2026]
Moving Island [27th June 2026] (current)
Poetic Philosophy 
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