PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Wrapped in Asphalt and Irony

Not with a halo,
but with a steering column—
the philosopher of the absurd
meets his curtain call
in a ditch,
the Vega’s chrome twisted
like punctuation gone feral.

And yet—
he strides the void like an anime hero,
cape stitched from moth manifestos,
eyes blazing not with “Believe in yourself!”
but with the harsher creed:
“One must imagine Sisyphus happy.”

The crowd roars,
not in faith,
but in disbelief—
that the man who taught us
to laugh at the void
was himself
laughed off the road
by contingency.

Tree or tarmac,
what’s the difference?
The absurd doesn’t care
for scenery.
It only cares
that the script ends
mid-sentence,
the ink still wet,
the ticket still unused.

So here’s the irony,
sharp enough to cut:
Camus, who crowned absurdity,
was crowned by it—
not with laurel,
but with shattered glass,
a coronation of accident.

Nevertheless—
and this is the only word
worth keeping—
his voice still declaims
through the wreckage:

not a sermon,
not a consolation,
but a dare:
to wear absurdity
as the only crown
that fits.

.