deepundergroundpoetry.com
Nothingness
At what point does the minutiae
Of our daily lives dissolve
Into the nothingness
That is our place
Our significance in the universe
At what point do we overflow
Break our bounds
Like a river cascading over
And breaking through the dam
Washing away the clutter
The thoughtless
The temporary
Cleansing the landscape
Of artifice
And when once swept clean
Do we try to return the clutter
Or embrace the empty freedom
Granted us
By the tragic gift
That gave us what we did no want
But surely needed
Of our daily lives dissolve
Into the nothingness
That is our place
Our significance in the universe
At what point do we overflow
Break our bounds
Like a river cascading over
And breaking through the dam
Washing away the clutter
The thoughtless
The temporary
Cleansing the landscape
Of artifice
And when once swept clean
Do we try to return the clutter
Or embrace the empty freedom
Granted us
By the tragic gift
That gave us what we did no want
But surely needed
Published 8th Aug 2014
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8th Aug 2014 12:51pm
Those are yin yang questions
There are no answers
This is why we write
Hoping by the end of the inking to feel better about the path
Well done
There are no answers
This is why we write
Hoping by the end of the inking to feel better about the path
Well done
8th Aug 2014 1:52pm
9th Aug 2014 1:41pm
I guess at some point we all ponder the question ... would I give it all up to be free? ... To live on that sugar coated island with pristine waters with mi reina ... living off fresh caught fish and cassava, and fruits from the trees ...
... Then I'll watch TV and see where Jessica Simpson is worth $50 million dollars and I curse myself for not raising my daughters to be stupid, and I cling to my cell phone like it's an extension of my body so I can count the pennies in my pension account that I'll never truly enjoy ...
... You've raised a great question poet ... How the fuck did we get here and why do we stay?
Bravo!
... Then I'll watch TV and see where Jessica Simpson is worth $50 million dollars and I curse myself for not raising my daughters to be stupid, and I cling to my cell phone like it's an extension of my body so I can count the pennies in my pension account that I'll never truly enjoy ...
... You've raised a great question poet ... How the fuck did we get here and why do we stay?
Bravo!
