poetry = nonsense
nonsense = meaninglessness
meaninglessness = void
void = nothingness
nothingness = spirit

Stand I’ve wasted my seed and stand before ye fruitless I’ve squandered my good fortune and stand here penniless I’ve forsaken those who loved me today I stand before ye desolate and my garments are threadbare my mind and heart in tatters I am wizened, withered by the many winters yet… still I stand whatfor I know not to what end, and in who’s service but someone awaits I am a part of a puzzle have been the key for others I never met whom perhaps I inspired threatened, liberated my work is not finished [6-I-2020]
Copyright © 2011 Erick Calder
All Rights Reserved
« prev | index | next »