empty course

empty course Nihilistic Poetry

The petal has rivers

long opulent light against the breast
solely swirls in silent colors
my skin upon the sky’s skin –

certainties are wrestling
over collapsing possibilities

the leap has a tinge of sorrow
the chain rattles

a river of petals
aging
on an empty
course to bliss.

 

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Nihilistic Poetry Blog

dreaming rock

dreaming rock poetry

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.

 

 

 

Nihil
ist
ic

The total roar of futile flirt

Wide_open_eye_poetry

The throat is the key
long gullet of hope
rebel stomach for rage
my intestines atop destruction
they are the spies
of lies
the accomplices
of alcohol

suicide is salvation
in this state
the answer
is blue sky
empty of
heaven –
the true
mask

who do we kill?
always the last note
sour and eager
futile mote
of dust

and love
finally
an instant
before
I collapse.

today

Sun poetry

a found a mystic’s cloud
today

strange stream surfacing
motion maneuvering mirthfully

a found the tree under the shadow
objects reposing, the light untouched

today was so short
a flicker

as a beautiful face
turning the corner
never to be seen again

empty sand
in my hand
again

but at least
these shoes of ache
brushed by
the mystic’s lake

today.
 

Nihilistic Poetry

matters of why

Why

I once had a rock
whose dream bordered on nuclei
mountain under incisive noise;
the mechanism of logic
all tender and imprecise –
the causal tornado of action
reward and dissatisfaction –

the rock
broke
in two

there was no more
rock inside the rock

there was emptiness
free unbounded liberty
vast heroic essence
uninterrupted by the nuisance
of knowledge

rolling rocks crumbs
down the precipice
of reality

free at last.

Poems

172

Dream Poetry

There was only a narrow slit
left between these eyes,
to survive and nowhere else?
the prospect was a sort of madness
somewhere in that peninsular solitude
my lands would become addicted to dreams
with half-shut eyes, looking out
attempting
as vaguely as objects are
or the motes of continuance;
these visions were freed as wealth
in sinister currency,
the mind is sleep
these eyes drugs
hello
expanding monuments
with the last man
sober in your
granite
resembling
an arching
 thick empty
emptiness

 

 

nihilistic poetry

killing the air

Photography Poetry

I have tread many countries
but the distances that
have furrowed
my brow
have been traveled
along the course of a spiral
leading my wandering thought

I am intent on killing the air
merely by breathing in it
rending asunder
the many horizons
that lead us back
to this
moment

I have placed an ear
on the gravid belly of sadness
a heartbeat of melancholy
has spawned in me
eyes

a finger has severed
the surface of the water
the cold ripple
is my only
faith

I cracked open my skull
slid my hand
in its cup
by the raw emptiness
of this touch

I was delivered

 

 

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