alea iacta est

Alea iacta est

yeah years teeth in sun
matter

piles up

dry
out there

 

waking
which is a breath
half air
half tear

 

 

obedient bodies die
these melodies
of tragedies

 
nothing more
than an idea of

awareness

this geology of memory

 

experience
breaks inevitable like waves

on far distant moon

 

 

unable to alter
the course
of inane atoms

 

 

the waves keep crashing
on the thinning stone
that life
half-asleep in chance.

AbSURd PoEtry

numbers and illusions

 

The desert
the streets are made of sand
crumbling tombs, atoms
they are disintegrating
sidewalks and numbers
bleached, ambiguous
some street signs
echoes and hallucinations
this urban hell

streets turn into cities
cities into graves
graves into civilizations
worlds into multiple voids
this is not philosophy
but it tastes like it 

I, you, us
in a substance
quite unknown
still unidentified
that is the illusion of knowledge
secrets and denials
to become confessions
of the upcoming third millennia 

when you are the tip
no longer the base
you fall
fall you disappear
in quiet intangible

sleep.
Awake or not
wave upon wave
silence within silence
void delivering avoidance
what is the word
for the miracles

that keep us alive. 
 
 
 

 

 

Who am I?

If an apple would expand to the size of the earth
One atom would be the size of the original apple

If my brain would expand to the size of the earth
What portion of land would hold my consciousness?

If an atom would expand to the size of my room
The nucleus of the atom would be the size of a speck of dust

If my neurons would expand to the size of the earth
Would I find myself at the level of continents, rivers or trees?

If the veil is lifted and the cosmos exposed
Will weight disappear,
     and matter and I,
                    become undistinguishable?