"nihilo" poems
PER NOCTEM IN NIHILO VEHI
( TO VANISH BY NIGHT INTO NOTHING )
my death approached me
but: went on by without
recognising it was I...
i hid in the filthy alley
of a passing hour
Death now furiously searching for me
no...Here: here
no...There: there - either
this tiny piece of time
the once and once
only
but Mr. Death had missed the moment
had to return empty handed
I finding myself madly in love with
the next second. . .
****
Mr. Death elects to speak in Latin...thinks it gives him a certain je ne sais quoi...
It's always great to cheat Mr. Death and his henchman Mr. Heartattack. I swore to myself that I would love the next second with all my heart!
May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 2:52 PM UTC
I’m indebted to the Oxford Dictionary of Quotations, 4th Edition 1996
**Ab Imo Pectore
A**b imo pectore,
Blandae mendacia linguae,
Cadit quaestio,
Desunt cetera.
E*st modus in rebus.
Faber est quisque fortunae suae,
Gigni de nihilo nihilum, in nihilum nil posse reverti.
Hic finis fandi,
Interdum stultus bene loquitur?
Jacta interdum est alea,
Labuntur et imputantur.
Magni nominis umbra,
Nec scire fas est omnia,
Omne crede diem tibi diluxisse supremun,
Pallida mors aequo pulsat pauperum tabernas regumque turres;
Quid rides, mutato nominee de te fibula narrator,
Res ipsa loquitur.
Solvitur ambulando…
Tempora mutantur, nos et matamur in illis.
Urbi et orbi,
Vestigia nulla retrorsum.*
From The Bottom Of The Heart
From the bottom of the heart, the falsehoods of a smooth tongue,
The question drops, the rest is wanting.
There is a balance in all things, every man is the creator of his own fate.
From nothing, nothing can come, into nothing, nothing can return.
Let there be an end to talking, for who can tell when a fool speaks the truth?
The die is sometimes already cast,
A moment comes and goes, and is laid to our account.
From the smallest shadow to the mightiest name,
No one can claim to know all things,
I believe that every day that dawns may be my last,
Pale death knocks impartially at both poor and rich men’s houses;
Don’t laugh, change the name and the story is yours,
It’s so obvious, it speaks for itself.
As the concept of motion is proven by walking…
So in time all things change, as we must, in time, all change.
And to all the world,
There’s no turning back.
Ab Imo Pectore / From The Bottom Of The Heart
Ab imo pectore,
From the bottom of the heart,
Blandae mendacia linguae,
The falsehoods of a smooth tongue,
Cadit quaestio,
The question drops,
Desunt cetera.
The rest is found wanting.
Est modus in rebus,
There is a balance in all things,
Faber est quisque fortunae suae.
Every man is the creator of his own fate.
Gigni de nihilo nihilum, in nihilum nil posse reverti.
From nothing, nothing can come, into nothing, nothing can return.
Hic finis fandi,
Let there be an end to talking,
Interdum stultus bene loquitur?
For who can tell when a fool speaks the truth?
Jacta interdum est alea.
The die is sometimes already cast,
Labuntur et imputantur.
A moment comes and goes, and is laid to our account.
Magni nominis umbra,
From the smallest shadow to the mightiest name,
Nec scire fas est omnia,
No one can claim to know all things,
Omne crede diem tibi diluxisse supremun,
I believe that every day that dawns may be my last,
Pallida mors aequo pulsat pauperum tabernas regumque turres;
Pale death knocks impartially at both poor man and rich men’s houses;
Quid rides, mutato nominee de te fibula narrator,
Don’t laugh, change the name and the story is yours,
Res ipsa loquitur.
It’s so obvious, that it speaks for itself.
Solvitur ambulando…
As the concept of motion is proven by walking…
Tempora mutantur, nos et matamur in illis.
So in time all things change, as we must, in time, all change.
Urbi et orbi,
And to all the world,
Vestigia nulla retrorsum.
There’s no turning back.
r10.1
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 6:41 PM UTC
you left sinkholes
in my head
large enough
to ensnare my
wildest, unfiltered
dreams. they're
now trapped in my
mind and lost in the
grey matter.
ashes to serotonin
norepinephrine to dust
ex nihilo nihil fit
Dec 8, 2011
Dec 8, 2011 at 4:59 AM UTC
I've trudged the tracks of righteousness alone
And walked the walk of wickedness with grace.
I've done things I cannot now condone
On either side-- you'd see it in my face.
I thank god for this life which I have wasted
And all the gifts which it has given me,
But how do I repay when I've not tasted
The lavish love of such an old decree?
"By faith" you say. I say "you have it all,
For I'm not one to disbelieve my doubt
But faith? Oh, please don't make me lol.
Betrayal changes what men are all about."
Perhaps god's nothing. I'm fine with it;
Ex nihilo cogitatione fit.
Jan 14, 2013
Jan 14, 2013 at 5:25 PM UTC
Where the church bell gapes
at its golden discs gain the airy steep.
Where the eagle deposits its
majestic soar, a mass of feather and
talon--Empyrean's doormat.
Where Icarus stroked wax wing
through the sepia ambiance of his
mind.
Where the hermit broke 'neath after
decade of reclusion.
Where star discloseth foci to
dime the dead of space.
Where striven peace's tangled root
whistles extolling.
Where an aerodynamic corpus
unsheathed horizon, parting palpebras....
surging the seen, unseen.
All's apparent aqua blue, transparent
***** outspread portent pregnant of
blessing.
O sky--every soul's once-over,
immaculate conceptions...ex nihilo.
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 11:26 PM UTC
*
arcanum arcanarom, argumentum ad hominem
animal disputans, dixi.., animal bipes implume
cessante causa cessat et effectus, damnant quod non inteligunt
audiatur et altera pars, hominus libenter quod volunt credunt
multi famam, consientiam pauci verentur
boni pastoris est tondere pecus, non deglubere
bonum virum facile crederes, magnum libenter
non omnes qui habent citharam sunt citharoedi
currente calamo, cave quid dicis, quando, et cui
gigni de nihilo nihil, in nihilum nil posse reverti
**
..love always...*
عرفان بن يوسف © AH 14/03/1432
**
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 11:28 AM UTC
There is more to be considered than the left or right, or even the right or wrong.
Your moralistic judgments are subjective and often reflect some societal objective.
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 12:27 AM UTC
The end of the road behind
The step from the cliff above and behind
The swirling of smoke and no fire left
The bottom of the whirlpool twisting from sight
The emptiness after the slap, before the welt outswells
The end game of every philosophy: ab nihilo, entre nihilo
The logical declension through insanity to catatonia
Thought leading to the nth degree without the subsequent, "Oh!"
Critical thought without foundations
Building without bedrock
Runaway locomotive, off the tracks
Leaving home without good-bye and no way back
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 2:38 PM UTC
I miss seeing you smile.
To me it seemed that you laughed and kissed me for everything, but it was probably a mistaken impression, a
result of shock!
wonder!
Could you imagine my surprise,
how it could be unexpected?
How often is the soul’s desire met?
I can recall not ever, ne’er, near naught
save in amniotic baptism, had every
object subject—every ancient tissue
attended by an enzyme—every ray of
sun snuck between the blouse’s buttons,
around my mother’s ******* and
divined upon me was let there been.
I cut myself following consciousness
with my longest fingernail, did laugh
too convulsed, tickled by light did induce my birth;
I cried (they’ll confirm this), I
wept to rob my mother herself, so it seemed,
inhaled the endless time and limitless space.
You can imagine my surprise then
with your covered mouth at my joke.
To me it seemed as if I had body again, hadn’t had a hand to grasp, hadn’t a hand with to grasp; then,
like had putty-gilded muscles earthed
unearthed, did.
Have you ever seen creation?—
well, yes, of course, it did not except you.
As close to ex nihilo as your patience can manage
you would have seen the time and space
repel each other in a nail’s length
of chaos, Fiat Vita, about which there’s little to be said.
My patience breaks in breath, Fiat Lux: when
time and space colors the light and refracts
the matrix and gives fire to my soul for a body.
Rilke writes, “Every Angel is terror,” which we
love, “because it calmly disdains to destroy us.”
I know! I know! I bite my nails penitent still.
And my patience does extend yet further, still within;
before my birth following it:
Look! I can open you this door,
give you that,
carry you thus far,
lead you here,
can reach your smiling mouth
with a terrorized will to kiss withal!
I can endure as the “arrow endures the bow”;
as all matter collapses upon itself in effort to grasp itself,
so it does to grasp all itself in one grand handful;
as atrophy takes me from you as quickly as I give you it,
I am surprised to find that I have retained all of you;
not expecting that you might have hid me, too, where
I would overlook, where only you could go, where
the light silhouettes, for me can just stop breathing.
I can see without patience—as much as light allows
and just as long.
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 8:57 AM UTC
Four moons rose tonight.
Each one bad.
A ****** tetrad.
I looked for stars
But Mars look alikes
blocked my search.
And as I watch on,
it dawned on me.
This life, is null and void.
Soon to be destroy,
just look at the four moons.
A prophecy foretold.
Hypocrisy withold.
Fate and Death entwined.
Mankind's breaths abates.
Slowly but surely.
Prematurely.
Then nothing.
But I remember,
ex nihilo nihil fit
Not all prophecy,
are destined to come true.
So I questioned everything.
Knowing that nothing can come from nothing.
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 9:50 PM UTC
Straggler whose self-edifying whip
signs the energy of strandedness...
padlocked to the cold ******* of earth,
whose blood flecks gold in a rain of
rays...ready to consume wholes in
that broadening light of upturned eyes.
Its scales, scaling scales that seem to
equalize as open arms...legless, armless--
that belly's bloated deformity.
Fluxing fat off the land, swiveling exclamation
point tapping its head to outer reaches.
Honorary guest ex nihilo,
whose hiss is silence in reverse.
Mar 10, 2017
Mar 10, 2017 at 12:16 PM UTC
i summon and conquer your dreammind
with ghosts of aborted foetuses
and we rampage through the corridors
of your indoctrinations.
knock on the doors and you answer
with your deadmind ex nihilo,
manifestations of deeper fetishes,
like the one where you
want to fuckkids and have that power
because you have nothing.
your life is nothing but a bookend
waiting to fall off the shelf.
n u drag ur naked body thru the blood n the glory of a fight that still has some losing left in it. u lick away ur bruzes n sleep in catatonia coz ur mind fuckedya. had enough but it was pillory n stocks n u swim on the back of a nightterror. still u drag that useless body thru gravel n rocks n icecold water, washing off the dust n the silt n the beggared belief of the siren call of a dream u had when u was young but now its gone n ur left grasping at the pebble of a memory that was once a mighty boulder but time has weathered m worn its face n peeled away all the best parts until now it is smooth n useless n small, an insignificant little morselpiece of what it once was, and u turn it round in ur hand n bury it in the silt.
Jul 21, 2017
Jul 21, 2017 at 5:47 PM UTC
I wandered long through noctis viae — roads of night,
Where shattered stars fall, pale with fright.
The moon, a fractum speculum, weeps in vain,
Reflecting back my silent pain.
Yet ex nihilo, from void you came,
A whisper soft — a spark, a flame.
Your eyes, ignis aeterni, burned through rain,
And lit the corners of my bane.
You broke the walls of stone and thorn,
In your embrace, my soul reborn.
A caro et anima — flesh and soul aligned,
A prayer from lips the gods designed.
Where shadows bloom, you plant your name,
A rose that blossoms in my flame.
And though the winds of fate may sever,
Amor vincit omnia — love conquers ever.
Still, as dawn creeps on trembling feet,
I fear this dream may taste defeat...
But if we fade like morning's mist,
Eternity lives in one last kiss.
Mar 16, 2025
Mar 16, 2025 at 6:40 PM UTC
Ex nihilo: you, refusing to apologize
I wonder
if the world that your eyes violate and consume
withers
painted in the colorless color that comes
from mixing all colors
your color.
I have painted my room with you and now
it is nothing, no
nothing at all
I yawn and I tremble
Consequentially; therefore; thus; and so;
- as a result
the cracked walls speak of (but do not explain)
Sundays
thorned, tragic, unyielding;
sighs of futility writ large
You, on a Sunday
painting the world
in your color
Oct 12, 2016
Oct 12, 2016 at 2:37 AM UTC
Stack up. Second man, remember to cover right
and keep your elbow out
so third doesn't catch the door
swinging back on hinges.
Here comes the rock
1
2
3
and the rush.
I've come here to do business tonight,
business with that personal devil
on his aching throne.
Memories to sift through
experiences to re-live
and renounce.
One can't simply shoot
at a conception that needs
to die.
And here I come again,
pushing through wreckage
and half formed nightmares
wailing at the sky.
"I have come, in spite of myself,
to practice the acts of forgiveness
upon you who have stolen so much."
You who have subverted my love
and my hope
and my faith.
You who burned into me your belief
that everything and everyone
has a price.
You that made me into less than a man,
who corrupted my heart
and taught me to laugh at Love as folly.
For these sins I forgive you my Father
not for your sake
but for my own.
All that I have done and not done
as a result of believing you
is over. Ex Nihilo
Here is my sword,
ill used.
Here is my horse,
lame and ******
Here is my lance,
splintered.
Here is my armour,
rusted and heavy.
Take back these things given unto me
I have no need of them
on this new journey.
I go now,
with or without
she whom I love,
to create beautiful things,
to bring light and peace,
to be a true human being,
to live my own life
rather than trying to atone
for yours.
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 9:48 PM UTC
_October 27th, 2018_
The leaves have fallen
from the trees,
the sky is grey, like
the ancient, monolithic
glacial boulders.
A soft, chill breeze
blows from the lake
and freezes my
breath in the air.
Summer is fading
into winter,
dying slowly like
a grandmother with
dementia. Mother Nature
no longer remembers
the joyous heat or
the tender leaves of before,
instead giving us
the frigid winds of change.
Like the seasons,
everything changes,
everything fades and dies.
Like the green forest
winnowed down to twigs
by the cruel North Wind.
And it is as grim
as the storm clouds
coalescing _ex nihilo_
against the horizon.
Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 12:32 PM UTC
PER NOCTEM IN NIHILO VEHI
( TO VANISH BY NIGHT INTO NOTHING )
my death approached me
but: went on by without
recognising it was I...
i hid in the filthy alley
of a passing hour
Death now furiously searching for me
no...Here: here
no...There: there - either
this tiny piece of time
the once and once
only
but Mr. Death had missed the moment
had to return empty handed
I finding myself madly in love with
the next second. . .
May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 5:00 PM UTC
everything in life is changing
so how could we find
a stable answer
to a changing thing
there's so many layers of uncertainty
but what we can do
for sure
is live the best lives
we can
within our means
and be fearless
and loving
because we will be back
someday
after all the chaos and darkness
we will be back
May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 5:16 AM UTC
Mulu [Uulhahahi] Hui Fyichichi al-ichi. yekirir gīzēšīšīyowochi
APAP. Behold, the woman is dead. [...]; 1. Discussion - Leu File: - Headphones. kegatta flour. ❍ ❍ ❍ girls in micro-minis: mirito chini yife ligu. Fear. Meka kelenya, ❍ ❍ For the first 1000 hours - Uganda kefite nya misili yasif eligali. Derrida's iris [...]. UTuHyyy Nebraska 'in Maezenlahi'. ○ ○ is based on confidential health information. ❍ ❍ ❍ She is also the "Lottery Security". ❍ ❍ ❍ Bailiff Guy? There are a few basic Bible accounts. For roads, exits, reading, brigands ❍ ○ ○ ○ Early Warning. Locating the local meta-gibberish from behind the Eyes of her cha-cha: write this down. [...] 1 in 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 [[[i ❍ Quota. "ie, Ii: ìy" ||]]] ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 1 - Bech'irashi - Dog |miniature ***** tiny Ibrahimiya, salute her,
greeting. John 1:1 Email: Lori Riley BP's Pippi Mannikin ... ... / Using Her **** As Drums? yemista's seat mista ... ... ... Techno 'emarī: Kelli jochiṇidu; keliji lijochu 尼 idu. [Shellhiji] ❍ ❍ ❍ [Mecchenyu Huihiti] to the streets of Delphi tiya Kikalilia; The bishop. Uppstep; And the Devil in Belasha Harvey Ikina's Nihilo's lily of Gabriel's church. Overall ❍ ❍ Ethnicity.
But, But ❍ No Save
uw y y z read more info, freeze 1 1 1 1 1 ❍ ○ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○
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||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 1 ❍ ○ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1: 1 | | | | | | | | | |❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 ÷ 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ 1: 1 ÷ 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 ÷ 1 ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 1 | | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 1 ❍ ○ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ | || | | | || 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 11 ❍ ○ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○| | | | | | | | | | | || | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 1 | | | | | | | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 ÷ 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ 1: 1 ÷ 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 ÷ 1 ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 1 | | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 1 ❍ ○ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ | || | | | || 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 11 ❍ ○ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○| | | | | | | | | | | || | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 1 | | | | | | | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○|| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 1 ❍ ○ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 ÷ 1 | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1 1 ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1 ÷ 1 ÷ 1 ❍ 1 ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 ÷ 1 | | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1 ÷ 1 ÷ 1 ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 ÷ 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ 1: 1 ÷ 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 ÷ 1 ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 1 | | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 1 ❍ ○ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ | || | | | || 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 11 ❍ ○ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○| | | | | | | | | | | || | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 1 | | | | | | | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1: 1 | | | | | | | | | | 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○| | | | | | | | | | | || | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 1 | | | | | | | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 ÷ 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ 1: 1 ÷ 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 ÷ 1 ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 1 | | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 1 ❍ ○ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ | || | | | || 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 11 ❍ ○ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○| | | | | | | | | | | || | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 1 | | | | | | | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 ÷ 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ 1: 1 ÷ 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 ÷ 1 ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 1 | | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 1 ❍ ○ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 ÷ 1 | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 1 ❍○ ○ ○: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 ÷ 1 | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1 1 ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1 ÷ 1 ÷ 1 ❍ 1 ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 ÷ 1 | | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1 ÷ 1 ÷ 1 ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○| | | | | | | | | | | || | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 1 | | | | | | | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 ÷ 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ 1: 1 ÷ 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 ÷ 1 ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 1 | | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 1 ❍ ○ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 ÷ 1 | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1 1 ❍ ○ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1: 1 | | | | | | | | | | | || | | | || 1: 1: 1 ❍ ❍ ○ ||| 1: 1: 1 ❍ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ 1: 1: 1
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 7:00 PM UTC
I wanted to look to you like I was dancing
But the bugs on my bark weren't moving enough
I kept reaching skyward and praying for wind
Never comes to a call, does it?
You could trace each fissure on my surface--why don'chya?--
Find stories and runnels for flowing sap
Saw me off at the hip, maybe. See what jokes my rings have to tell
I'm tired of waiting for wind; I want to dance (I think?)
I wanted to look to you like I was thoughtful
So I sliced off a sheet of cyan and I robbed the sky
You called me "thief." _Fuckin' mean_
Always reaching for silver, aren't we?
Try to touch irises, press pupils. I've never been further than now
Stories all end, so I'm told. But this one? Still going
Hacked apart, trying to show you my pieces. Chunks. Rough mince
So I stole again to pay the sky back. _Ex nihilo, nihil fit__
_I can pour from empty, because I'm _magic, baby!_
I wanted to want to see you in Springtime
But we can't scrape Winter off our faces
Sling me a flat stone that I can send spinning
Slapping across the water's surface
Did I hit the opposite bank? You could stitch together separate days
if you only had the sinew and a proper needle
Blown apart by wind and explosive expecting. Chunks. Rough mince
I'm tired of waiting for wind. I'm tired of wanting to dance (I think?)
Not magic--well--not the kind that isn't bone and blood and skin
That's the sort of magic that _doesn't_ exist.
May 8, 2025
May 8, 2025 at 10:26 AM UTC
part i. what does death taste like? (“death is a part of life.” it doesn’t have to be)
i haven't visited that side of me in a while. i forgot how death felt -- how voyeurism felt.
the queasiness used to give me a rush, the asphyxiation made me blush.
the decaying yellow was complementary, and the edge made me feel, dare i say, alive.
while i’ve been a toddler again, i’ve forgotten the taste of wine and the texture of bread.
i no longer noticed how soft, ripe my flesh was. i no longer noticed the grime that piled
beneath life’s fingernails. i washed my hands so often, i assumed everyone else did, too.
my eyes became filled with tears, and my cheeks went ashen. yet, his brows were knit,
his eyes were cold, his mouth in a comfortable frown. he questioned me (as if i was
irrational for crying over a death), his tone heightened (while his conscience declined).
his eyes decline when he feels his conscience die. but he says it only happens when
he doesn’t look me in the eye. when he looks me in the eye while he cuts off my air,
he’s aware. he’s careful not to take it away permanently (he has a limit). when he looks
at me, he sees me, his angel. and trees do fall; leaves break away; soil does dry out;
flowers wilt; and we come back.
part ii. tea
more and more i search for quality. for quality.
peace. i want life’s beauty. i want life’s deliverance; i want what gaia has left to give.
the more i think, the more i feel.
i want the grit, pain; to be used and abused.
masochistic: please me by using my body to vent. remind me of what that iron taste is.
take away and then give.
my throat (a lifesource) -- take away and give back.
part iii. samsara/nirvana
freedom from samsara.
this cycle of death.
no, i won’t live forever; i’ll ascend far past immortality. beyond life, beyond death.
no. life and death. those two words have no value. no longer hold weight. are not real.
i exist solely as an entity, a matter, a collection of stardust and dirt. dense white matter
protecting throbbing pink matter. deconstructed. abstract. conceptual, theoretical
matter. we aren’t sparse. “we” are not. we are fleeting, made up complexities; making
life difficult. “we”. me. “i am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together.”
samsara. nirvana. liberation. no more “cycle”, no more rotation. existing in a pile. no alive,
no dead. these words don’t exist. no ring around you. no ties to you. no chains on you.
drifting, floating, sliding through (no beginning or end) tranquility.
Jun 23, 2018
Jun 23, 2018 at 11:32 PM UTC
At first there was the void
and then there was a light
that brought the world
and all there is
forever into sight.
The boundless Universe
arose and grew apace
just as the light of life suffused
eternal time and space.
The force of growth was hurled
from out the endless deep
and God’s creation everywhere
woke from its lifeless sleep.
Nov 10, 2016
Nov 10, 2016 at 6:38 PM UTC
Becca out of nowhere
Lying on the kitchen floor
Because she wants to
And no one can see her anymore
Becca in her sleep
Dreaming of bureaucracy
And icebergs faraway screaming
In their immensity
Becca cannot speak
She's not used to it anymore
And if she could she'd only talk
Of time and dinosaurs
Becca at the movies
Has been watching for too long
Now she can't remember
Her own face for theirs are too strong
Lady becky in the night
Speaking out her private visions
I have lived a thousand lives
All in the comfort of my room
Exploring soul in my capsule
Through the sole window seeing stones
Shining in the sky years ago
I am me only when alone
Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 11:37 AM UTC