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Month: May 2025

Nothing Matters: free verse

Published on May 31, 2025

If nothing is a thing at all
then nothing comes from something;
that’s logic if you presuppose
that something there is that doesn’t
love the void:
that a thing that is cannot become
if there’s no seed or spark or speck
from which it comes to being.
It could be some eternal mind,
a divine will, or cosmic dust;
the truth is, it is just unseen
by those who claim to know the truth,
or lack enough creative juice
to see beyond what they can see.

The sages from the east propose
that it’s all in the mind.
Perhaps, that’s well enough to pass some tests
but has its own illusions.

A thing that can escape the mind?
How could we even guess it’s there?
The way things work, and intertwine,
the madness in the universe
in which we see some super-mind,
where do such notions grow and thrive,
except in our imaginations?

If a thing is nothing much,
then what is something after all?
There’s so much chaos, anyway,
unless you’re looking at the whole;
then the observer and observed
become just one united field.

If you and I could see the truth,
what good is that, if you and I
cannot imagine something else
that might contain us both?

31 MAY 2025

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No One Writes Letters: epistle

Published on May 30, 2025

Dear reader: do you wonder what
the point may be in all of this?
Why do we bother keeping track
of who said what to whom and such?

On an entire stretch of sandy beach
we seek a single special grain,
imagining some magic quest
in which we play the hero’s role.

All the while, the soundtrack seems
to telegraph our every thought;
instead of showing what we feel,
we let the song push us along.

And in the end, what’s the use?
We focus on the world outside,
where what we do makes little mark
and when we leave, won’t miss us.

I’m writing you, because it seems
the sanest way to pass the time,
and share the world, our hopes and dreams.
You show me yours, I’ll show you mine.

So now, farewell, at least for now.
We’ll muddle through this mess, somehow.
So long as you and I both care,
there’s still a chance we’ll get somewhere.

30 May 2025

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Travel Plans: englyn unodl union

Published on May 29, 2025

In retrospect, I should have known:
if the world changes, you have grown. Doesn’t mean
it’s all neat and clean. You’re shown
maybe a thing or two, alone.

You have a choice. Choose to care.
It matters how you get there; the end
depends on it. So beware:
life’s not a solo affair.

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The Whole Point: englyn unodle crwca

Published on May 29, 2025

What’s the point of anything?
Who knows what tomorrow brings?
Can anyone who sings such sad songs
not feel wrong when it’s spring?

Where are we going to get?
Who knows? We seem to forget
what really matters, and just let pure hate
dictate our whole mindset.

28 May 2025

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The Minute Waltz: englyn proest gadwynog

Published on May 27, 2025

In just a minute’s brief span
the world is made and unmade.
Try as you may, no one can
restore colors once they fade,

nor take back a piece once played.
There is no time but right now;
all the rest is lost in shade,
turned underneath new farrows.

You can choose to grow or die –
to sink a root or wither;
at least you think you decide,
while doing both or either.

27 May 2025

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Mirror Moves: englyn proest dalgron

Published on May 27, 2025

We never plan for the worst,
no matter how grim it gets.
The whole world may die of thirst
watching the dying sun set

and still, we think there is time.
We can’t imagine an end
or pit so deep we can’t climb
our way out. We just pretend

there is always a lifeboat
with some room for us, at least,
that will somehow stay afloat
after others’ hope has ceased.

It’s a sad and lonely state
if you’re the sole survivor;
and no point in blaming fate
if you don’t like the mirror.

27 May 2025

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The New Almost Normal

Published on May 23, 2025

Almost, nearly, next to, practically, virtually, pretty much, just about, perfect. Or talented. Or holy. Compassionate, professional, persuasive, convincing, genius, helpful, useful, good enough, or just enough. And that’s on the plus side, Imagine yourself as the absolute antithesis: almost unbearably, dispassionately, sadistically, cruelly, mischievously and maybe also horribly perfect. Or wealthy. Or powerful. That’s what the dream of absolute power sells you. That if you had enough power, you could be perfect. Like that little girl in the story by Saki, you could be “horribly good.”

But how does that work out? Once you’re “almost” something, you stand at the edge of a chasm so vast and endless that you are damned, like Zeno, to forever advance from your position at 99% to a full 100% in half-lengths that never get you any closer than half way there with each step.

Because perfect is a pipe dream. Just like forever. Or never, for that matter. These are ideas that convince you to chase your tail, sell yourself into wage slavery, cut off your nose to spite your face, or surrender yourself to an unseen, unverifiable, uncommunicative, and otherwise unpleasant dictator you created to relieve yourself of personal responsibility for why you live and die.

Think of it this way: we’re almost ready.

To start. To evolve. To grow. To prosper. To destroy. To decay. To diminish. To die.

That’s a lot of chasm to cross. And not a lot of time to get there, considering the only time we have is almost gone, nearly wasted, and just about up.

On the other hand, that last one percent is not as far as it looks. Objects in the mirror can sometimes be closer than they appear.

23 May 2025

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