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  • mrnothing 5w

    Down the water falls

    I wandered wide
    And wondered high
    When past the small stoned sands
    I passed through eery smirking lands,
    Thriving on nothing but the harsh,
    Thriving within their loveless marsh.
    You must feel me when I vow
    To you, that the most splendid bowed
    To me, in the moment I gasped
    At a waterfall... I could not grasp,
    Where it had come from.

    But enamored by the bliss
    Offered by this flowing giant's kiss
    Had I not bowed in awe,
    The moment I came and saw
    The splendour of it all?
    Rueful I sat.

    Believe me when I say,
    Water always falls,
    falls and drifts away.
    ©mrnothing

  • mrnothing 7w

    Random thoughts #9

    Fellow brethren living wild,
    Take a moment to ponder and wonder
    As though you were a child.

    What is the essence
    underlying deed?

    An ocean of options becoming flesh in a decision, says the rational.

    But underlies not ever option and decision a state of the ocean? Whether calmingly still or ravagely enraged or in the many multitude between, asks the sensitive and his heart.
    So what and how, dear brethren constitutes
    Deed?

  • mrnothing 14w

    My path, alone

    Too long now,
    Have my dreams not been my dreams.
    Too long now
    was I comfortable and ill
    And realized not the wheel that I lived in.
    A thousand lions' roar
    Or a golden leaf in fall
    From the throne that had once born
    My soul and path,
    Now it's mine to tread.
    Mine and mine alone.

    Do not let go
    Of that throne-led thread.

  • mrnothing 16w

    Time is running out and...

    'Click', the clock's finger shouts and...
    Through the glass sand trickles down and...
    The sun, a moving shadow imprints to the ground and...
    The moon fuller and thinner grows and glows and...

    All with what me measure time,
    Pressure is what's made by us
    No moment in time was ever thine
    And what's made by us is always just structuring-lust.

  • mrnothing 17w

    An eye for an eye and the world will go blind, they said.
    The last one standing will have one eye left, one replied.
    And the one-eyed is king within the blinded, one added.
    So all hail our new soulless king.

  • mrnothing 17w

    One soul among souls

    So more often
    people take their pride
    In saying: Me
    Yet one soul among souls
    One life among lives
    In an endless cycle of strife
    and in the dark of galaxies they,
    we are.

  • mrnothing 17w

    A giant stands still

    The silent giant, one thousand years tall
    Blinks not, yawns not, falls not here
    A giant tree stands still.

  • mrnothing 18w

    Resolution and Independence

    VII

    [...]
    By our own spirits are we deified:
    We Poets in our youth begin in gladness;
    But thereof come in the end despondency and madness.

    -William Wordsworth-

  • mrnothing 18w

    A poem begins as an...

    abstract thought,
    uncanny, unruly, vaguely vast,
    manifests
    in silent suffering as a blast
    expressed by
    a fair hearted soul in penning and quilling and writing and scribbling down
    what they see aghast.

  • mrnothing 19w

    Losing one's soul

    Once there lived a boy
    He had a soul,
    His soul was joy.

    Years passed

    Once there lived a youngster
    He had a soul
    His soul turned damper

    Years passed

    Once there lived a man
    He had a soul
    His soul turned wan.

    Years passed

    Once there passed away
    A man in his later days
    His soul had turned astray
    As all he had lived to say
    Was how to knave before a sleigh.
    In the end his spark had died,
    And all he remembered was his soul on his side,
    no longer there.