Aristotle says: the soul at its proper work,
doing well the very thing it was built to do —
no shortcut, no shirk.
Epicurus says: subtract until you're free —
a crust, a friend, no gods to dread,
and the wanting, finally, put to bed.
The Stoics say: want only what's been dealt.
The Buddha says: unclench — the ache you felt
was only ever the fist, and not the world.
Schopenhauer, slumped and grey, has hurled
his verdict from the back: it's just the ache
that stops. Diogenes, wide awake
in his barrel, grins: the sun, a crust, a fig
for no one's leave — he simply lives it big.
Lao Tzu says: quit shoving at the stream.
Confucius says: each thing within its scheme,
and you, at last, inside your rightful place —
then all of it moves with a borrowed grace.
Mill says: don't look at it straight, it bolts;
it sidles in through side doors, between the jolts.
Nietzsche says: love your one life with such fire
you'd live the whole loop again, entire.
Camus says: smile at the stone. Re-take the hill.
Marx says: the joy's the making — hands at will,
the work they still can recognise as theirs.
Arendt says: it lives out in the open airs,
the talk between the people, unrehearsed.
James says: the world's not saved, and not yet cursed —
just workable, by hand, and bit by bit,
so roll your sleeves; that's about the whole of it.
And Dickinson? She doesn't say a thing.
She nods you toward the little bird, mid-swing,
that sings the wordless tune and won't be stilled,
and never asked a crumb, and never will.
So there's the roll call: all the famous dead,
each holding a lamp to feed the sun overhead.
And as for Gi?
She'll dodge the grand I love you —
all vows and venues, clingy as a curse —
and keep the scruffy bird that won't rehearse:
it lets itself in, helps itself to toast,
forgets to RSVP, outstays the host,
and chirps, mouth full, easy as you please,
I like you, I like this — now pass the peas.
Hers is philia: a potluck kind of love —
everyone brings a dish, so no one eats alone;
the friends who turn up gloved and grinning
to raise the barn the gale once caved in.
Pass the plank, crack the joke, split the crust,
and watch the common ground climb out of the dust.
The old shackles? Compost. Let them rot with grace —
good soil's just a wreck that found a kinder place.
She'll tuck something green in the give of the loam,
water it, wink, and call the whole mess home.
What's yours?
—
Further reading
Aristotle — Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, "Aristotle's Ethics." (last accessed 27 June 2026)
Epicurus — Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, "Epicurus." (last accessed 27 June 2026)
The Stoics — Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, "Stoicism." (last accessed 27 June 2026)
The Buddha — Wikipedia, "The Buddha." (last accessed 27 June 2026)
Schopenhauer — Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, "Arthur Schopenhauer." (last accessed 27 June 2026)
Diogenes — Wikipedia, "Diogenes." (last accessed 27 June 2026)
Lao Tzu — Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, "Laozi." (last accessed 27 June 2026)
Confucius — Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, "Confucius." (last accessed 27 June 2026)
Mill — Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, "John Stuart Mill." (last accessed 27 June 2026)
Nietzsche — Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, "Friedrich Nietzsche." (last accessed 27 June 2026)
Camus — Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, "Albert Camus." (last accessed 27 June 2026)
Marx — Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, "Karl Marx." (last accessed 27 June 2026)
Arendt — Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, "Hannah Arendt." (last accessed 27 June 2026)
James — Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, "William James." (last accessed 27 June 2026)
Emily Dickinson — Wikipedia, "Emily Dickinson." (last accessed 27 June 2026)