the joy of Heidegger

desolation_landscape

 

Throughout itself,
ordinary nature
would no longer
be its opposite.

Truth occurs

within itself
no longer in earth

but open,
clearing, never rid of primal conflict

notice this Open

the world of paths
lighting
the self-closing
center

at bottom
intended to denote
that the essential
has rid itself
of everything
concealed.

 

(All the words, including minor phrases were extracted from page 53 of Heidegger’s essay The Origin of the Work of Art, found in the book Poetry, Language, Thought as translated by Albert Hofstadter, printed by Harper Perennial Modern Classics)

Contemporary Poetry

BEWARE: Technologists of the obscure

technologist_of_the_obscure

 

 

By understanding the fundamentals of ambiguity the technologist of the obscure harnesses the power to create suitable artifacts (not to be confused with anti-facts) that encrypt the purity of communication into a meshwork of impenetrable significations. This technology, having being exploited by philosophers for ages, has surreptitiously leaked out and fallen into the hands of the architects, engineers and builders of unearthly images and unintelligible utterances, a group of formidable sophists that work relentlessly in the advancement of their art. Commonly grouped together under the heading of ‘Poets’, these deserters of lucidity utilize a wide array of techniques to camouflage their superficiality and produce, to all appearances, objects of intelligence. Their methods include the avoidance of the vernacular, the exploitation of the thesaurus, and the occasional usage of logatomes. This alchemy of language can reach such degree of high abstraction that the reader can momentarily forget the existence of the earth. Such manipulation of perception, while not yet proven to be lethal, can lead to a long-lasting veneration for the incomprehensible. While there might be some value in fiddling with obscurity, it is highly unlikely that straightforward communication will ever be supplanted by the monstrous impenetrability of the ambiguous.

Contemporary Poetry

Swathed

outer world

 

when did it begin?
accidentally
reaching intelligence’s cul de sac
walking away with empty pockets
haven thrown all theories away
like burnt shreds of money
now dripping after
falling into a puddle of sensation
nothing belonging to me above or below
I foresee the outcome already –
a maddening silence
staring out the window
because the birds
are pretty.

 

 

NIHILISTIC Poetry

regions of a soul

Areas of a Soul

the distance
of things from my center
together with the dripping self

language rests as a drop
on a fatal slope
or a sound in frozen space

I have hands
but they never touch
anything

I have thoughts
but they never refer
to anything

and while I feel like cancer
growing on the insides
of my own soul;

I have bled beauty
like a suicide of god

there are areas of life
inaccessible and foreign
my flesh is ghostly
my feelings barely perceived

I am like a spark
engulfed in its luminosity
and everything beyond it
staggering darkness

in that incomprehensibility
I move and dying.

 

POEMS

The nihilist

Nihilist nihilism

A true nihilist would remain in silence, write not one verse or statement, would speak concisely the bare minimum needed for survival, short ambiguous phrases. Such a person would greet and live amongst people only in so far as he sees them as intimately unreal as his bubbling dream-thoughts, as his dream-desires, as his dreamed dreams. The true nihilist would be amazed by everything, from an ant that crawls over the index finger to the cold hairs of despair; every thing becomes an unknown appendix to a greater unfamiliar reality. He would have his coffee and smile because he is a passenger of time, or perhaps, he may consider being suddenly born into the suit of a wholly grown man that conducts his thinking through the agency of amputated words. The nihilist, if one ever existed, would come and go with the tides of the ordinary, would probably visit too landscapes in consciousness that a believer of truth could never reach (truth being an ten-ton burden); that nihilist, if so much can be said, would render all things possible and would make of contradictions and paradoxes household items with which he interacts daily.

The nihilist takes his coffee without sugar and life without objections.

Nihilistic Poetry