
Socrates, are you (for) real?
By Socratic method, may I challenge your truth
Like the truth of a star burning billions of light years away
For I have no more proof than the dialogues of Plato
Or the words of Xenophon
Or the writings of Aristotle in defence of you
Just as I have no evidence that the faraway star exists
Other than that I see it ablaze in the dark sky
As far as I can trust my eyes, the Athenians fed you hemlock
They watched you walk to your death
They laughed when your knees began to buckle
As the poison claimed your body and released your soul
The law of retaliation, eye for an eye
They poisoned you for poisoning the minds of the youth
For speculating about the heaven above
For searching into the earth beneath
Yet in your wisdom you denied all knowledge
Scio me nihil scire
I know I know nothing
But the knowledge of nothing is knowledge itself or the illusion thereof
That drives the philosopher and the mathematician to a search
That drives the poets and the painters to the path of discovery
That drives people to follow the (social media) stars
In the hope of uncovering the secrets of the universe

The greatest way to live with honor in this world is to be what we pretend to be. —Socrates
Socrates, are you (for) real?
As epistemology is your lasting contribution, how do I know that I know you?
You who said what you didn’t know you didn’t think you knew
What of God and our ignorance of Him
What of death and our ignorance of it
What of empirical and sensorial truth and all that contradicts it
What of the truth of ourselves as opposed to our beliefs and justifications of it
And what of you and what we do not know of you
Beyond the words of your protégés Plato or Xenophon
Of whom you might be a mere invention
Aristophanes cooked up The Clouds to see beyond their idealized versions
Such sceptics say they might have only put words in your mouth
Borrowing your wisdom to give weight to their own
The Socratic problem lies in the many contradictions to the truth
Why did you not write it all down for posterity
Did you not know you will live on to this day
Novels echo words you might not have uttered
Theater satirizes philosophies you might not have espoused
Thoughts rid of contradictions in a process you might not have introduced
Ho de anexetastos bios ou biôtos anthrôpô
The unexamined life is no life for any human
But what of the life we live now, whose only evidence is an Instagram post
But what of truths that seek followers by way of Vsco cam filters
A life like yours but shrouded in the mysteries of X-pro II, its legacies secondhand
Maybe a life liked once and then completely forgotten
Are you (for) real, Socrates?