Of Clocks and Faces

There are clocks older than time,

that would show us how little of it

there is left to spend,

were we only capable of

deciphering their numerals

we might hasten more

linger less decide sooner

hesitate only when we are done;

There are faces staring

into mirrors devoid

of any expectations,

their inscrutable reflections refusing

to conform to any predetermined

notions of content or structure;

the staring faces see nothing

not even themselves.

Posted in Allegory, Contemporary Society, Dystopia, Ennui, Existential, Homage to Borges, Horror, Identity, Magic Realism | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Library at Alexandria

What words were they

that were lost amid

intolerance’s rage?

Whose verses,knowledge,wisdom

were swept into oblivion

by the fires’ wrath?

A pyre stacked

with a million scrolls

the deeds and glories of Ages past

gone into the long forgetting;

and in the Now and Forever

Hypatia remains exiled

in the garden,

where the Sun refuses to shine.

Posted in Allegory, Culture, Dystopia, Existential, History Poem, Horror, Identity | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Absence of Words

Where are they?

where are those words

that should have been

here…. and…. here…. and here,

all arranged in neat,

ordered lines?

Where are they?

those absentees who’ve

neglected their solemn duty

and have absconded into obscurity:

Meaning like wheat

cannot be harvested if

the page like the field

isn’t planted beforehand;

so, where are they?

for….now…… gaps

are…………. evident,

the….. words……. are

…….. too

…….. few.

Posted in Allegory, Contemporary Society, Dystopia, Ennui, Existential, Identity, Writing | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Notes on the Limits of the Infinite

On the head of a pin

as we spin,spin,spin

in circling,circling circles

around around axis

turning axis around,

as we dance with angels

on the head of a pin;

swirling,swirling,whirling

in circles,circles turning

around around again

ceaselessly,

on the head of a pin

where we find ourselves

alone.

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Notes on the disaffection of an Intellectual

We know nothing worth knowing

and were it worth knowing

we wouldn’t even know that

we didn’t know whether or not it was;

Knowledge is the sum of all

the emptinesses gathered in a vacuum,

we articulate acquired knowledge

in the way those blind from birth

might describe colours;

We grasp at phantasms

and draw shapes with our fingers

in the still air of a morning

on a battlefield occupied by silence;

Our role in history is as relevant

as that of dust mites in

the Palace of Versailles.

Posted in Allegory, Contemporary Society, Dystopia, Ennui, Existential, Expression of Faith, Horror, Identity, Philosophy | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Existential Divertissement

Shall we shilly-shally

on the seashore

in the sunshine

searching for shellfish

swept up suddenly

by the summer’s storm?

Posted in Allegory, Ennui, Existential, Fun with words | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Notes on the Poignancy of Suffering

We shared
a feigned nostalgia
for those things
that none of us
could remember
or would even care to;
Of how,
the world broke our hearts
and left them scattered
in a thousand pieces
for collectors of detritus
in some far distant future
to catalogue,
for someone
to publish learned papers
on what all
those broken pieces
meant

Posted in Allegory, Contemporary Society, Ennui, Existential, Horror, Identity, Poetry Noir | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment