flakes of self

particles of self

this life
is a flight
that with increasing
accuracy I’ve been able
to determine
is nothing but a free fall
and the sensation of flying
is produced by the lucky fortuity
that there is nothing to crash into
in this way, we drift down
spiraling through fields
of emptiness
and nobody knows
when it will end
or if it should end at all
so I’ve started to snap off
little pieces of myself
and blow them into the dark
till one day
there will be thousands of flakes
erratically swaying
in the atmosphere of life
that has no
destiny.
 
 
 

contemporary poetry

The choice

Nihilism Poetry

I have chosen darkness
in it
poetry swells,
literature breeds
dark and oppressive
I breathe in an atmosphere of coal
black ash swarms in metaphors and
contradictions
beating heart that’s become
sullen with life
I choose obscurity
like the ambiguous rose
within an unmovable abyss
I choose the ungraspable void
where borders and objects
interfuse with phantasmagorical thoughts
leaving no content, awaiting an obscure name –
in this dark dream
the Mysterious
is like wine
flowing through the veins
of whatever I am.

nihilistic poetry

Timelessness

Unable to escape this vast dawn

hanging upon me like an atmosphere of chemicals

a mechanical tingling from ages’ past

I’ve collected the motionless quantum of floating seeds
constantly mirroring the pinpoints of valleys

as seen from peaks of departure

I’ve spoken with the dark red shade of tomorrow
perhaps seducing despair to taste my blood

her choice fluttered like a hummingbird’s thought

I’ve fallen in those perimeters of wonder
unfelt timelessness

incapable of resisting the language of rising steam

The old skins of trees invade the territory of sense
while curves vague as clouds

              embroil this journey’s end.

 

 

 

 

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