No matter
what I write
this will never bear a name
all creation falls through
the empty sky
always falling
no hands here
to catch and retain
anything
no matter what
my memory is always empty
it has no truth
no one is here
to witness anything
the mind is uninhabited
and uncharted
a rock fell asleep
and this is its dream.
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This entry was posted on December 20, 2011 at 4:30 am and is filed under contemporary poetry with tags 21st century poetry, absurd poems, dream, emptiness, existential poetry, matter, memory, metaphysical poetry, mind, nihilism, nihilistic poetry, truth. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
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December 29, 2011 at 5:34 pm
No stone un-turned, eh?
April 10, 2012 at 11:06 am
The Absolute!