Skip to content

Tag: impermanence

The Five Pillars

I’ll write this down because I might forget, and in the morning not be as profound. The pillars underlying everything, at least the point of view that shapes my world, are time, essence, identity, impermanence, and illusion. These five interconnected themes mean something when examined separately, but look quite different when viewed as a whole. Of course, they all fold into each other. Time, for example, is critical to the definition of essence, identity, impermanence, and illusion. Those things exist only in or outside of time. Likewise, all are illusions, made just slightly less ephemeral through the lens of identity, which is itself impermanent and without lasting essence. Who we are, or rather how we identify ourselves, is a trick of the light. We imagine ourselves as some primordial space dust come into being before the advent of time and destined to continue after the stars turn cold. But even that illusion does not last our entire lifetime. Lifetime: that’s another tricky word. It implies that the ticking clock is the primary means for measuring a quantity of life. It can be useful, indeed. But despite a deep, unrelenting desire to be of use, to be more than just a simple cog in a mindless machine, most folks, as Thoreau pointed out, lead lives of quiet desperation. They want time, essence, identity, and illusion. They just want them permanently, unchanging, and fixed in the heavens like stars to set your sails against. They are desperate because that ain’t gonna happen. They are quiet because to question the status quo, the societal norms, the will of the gods, is to further reinforce your impermanence. By the same token, considering your quality of life without including all five pillars will likewise lead to imbalance, inequity, injustice, and insignificance.

03 Aug 2025

© 2025, John Litzenberg. All rights reserved.

Leave a Comment

The Time Not Now: villanelle

The time not now will never come to pass.
What is born here today, this day will die.
All this that is was never built to last.

The past does not go slow, nor future fast,
yet both what is and was confuse the eye.
The time not now will never come to pass.

Enjoy this moment’s rich and full repast,
its laughter, tears, brief hours and gentle sighs.
All this that is was never built to last.

The flags for yesterday don’t fly half mast,
nor need us wringing hands with woeful cries.
The time not now will never come to pass.

There is no back and forth, the die is cast.
What you know now is all you’ll realize.
All this that is was never built to last.

There just time to focus on this task,
not what waits in your wheelhouse by-and-by.
All this that is was never built to last.
The time not now will never come to pass.

14 Jul 2025

© 2025, John Litzenberg. All rights reserved.

Leave a Comment

What You See: triolet

What you see is what you get.
Be careful since the eyes can lie –
a simple truth we often can forget:
what you see is what you get,
and once you’ve got it, you’re in debt
to those who’ve shown you what to buy.
What you see is what you get.
Be careful, since the eyes can lie.

You may not get what you deserve.
There is no fair exchange on high,
no sacred balance to preserve.
You may not get what you deserve.
The masters change, the source may swerve,
but we all live, and serve, and die.
You may not get what you deserve.
There is no fair exchange on high.

The only time you have is now.
There is no past or future tense
to look for or work through, somehow.
The only time you have is now,
and in this moment is allowed
the brief chance to experience
the only time you have is now.
There is no past or future tense.

11 JUL 2025

© 2025, John Litzenberg. All rights reserved.

Leave a Comment

The End of the World: sonnet (English)

Perhaps the world will end tomorrow night.
With so few sane in charge, that would make sense.
Besides, if the Cassandras have it right,
it’s way past time for sitting on the fence,

pretending that our waking up at last
can make a whit of difference to the tide.
What opportunity we had has surely passed.
Our only hope is to survive the ride.

And if the planet stops its steady spin,
it may be just what Mother Nature needs.
Once it’s called as a game no one can win,
who cares for a scorecard none can read?

If everything is ending, what’s the fuss?
There’s no more worry for the two of us.

08 JUL 2025

© 2025, John Litzenberg. All rights reserved.

Leave a Comment

A Soul in Cement: sonnet (sonetto rispetto)

I will not live my whole life just to spite
one more imagined evil at my door,
some cloud determined to block out my light,
or leave my spirit destitute. No more.
Why be a tool for either left or right,
when a binary choice is still piss-poor?
You’re always wrong when you pick just one side,
and where you end depends on how you ride.

The truth that can be shown in white or black
is just one more illusion, just a trick
that gives you hope for something permanent.
Reality is change. Stop holding back.
Your life is not cement that will grow thick
and make your purpose more self-evident.

08 JUL 2025

© 2025, John Litzenberg. All rights reserved.

Leave a Comment

Any Day Now: Sicilian sestet

Beneath the whisper quiet rush of dawn
as the still sleeping earth begins to wake,
before the last vestige of dark is gone
and daylight gives its weary head a shake,
enjoying one more furtive stretch and yawn,
the chains of each new yesterday can break.

The morning of each now is always new,
its gentle glow scrubbed fresh from last night’s toil,
and with an inner light brings into view
a world not so besmirched with mud and soil,
where there is opportunity for you
to contemplate and shape this mortal coil.

Before you let such moments slip away,
examine what you plan to do, and why
the time you set aside for work, and play,
is more than hours and minutes passing by.
What’s here and now can no more simply stay
than what is born can hope to never die.

02 JUL 2025

© 2025, John Litzenberg. All rights reserved.

Leave a Comment

The Passing Game

When someone says we’re out of time, so what?
What difference does one more minute make,
if it’s just on or off, open or shut,
and more of just the same old tired mistakes?

When someone says we’re out of time, does that
mean everything so far is done in vain,
as if one’s whole lifespan’s a welcome mat
for one more doorway labeled “Try Again”?

When someone says we’re out of time, just think:
so much can happen in a minute’s span.
There in the space between two quick eye-blinks
eternity awaits your stretched out hand.

When someone says we’re out of time, hold on,
and just because the clocks have stopped to run
that every opportunity is gone.
If you get just a moment, choose this one.

When someone says we’re out of time, alas,
if only there were more of life than this,
remember, neither water nor the glass
sees anything half-empty or remiss.

When someone says we’re out of time, watch out!
They’re trying to convince you it’s the end,
and in that final moment, raise some doubt
that we are all impermanent, my friend.

When someone says we’re out of time, beware,
they want your share of minutes for their own,
as if there isn’t time enough to spare
between just what you see, and what is shown.

When someone says we’re out of time, big deal.
The end and the beginning are the same.
Who cares that you might miss the big reveal:
all life is just a moment’s passing game.

26 Jun 2025

© 2025, John Litzenberg. All rights reserved.

Leave a Comment
error: Content is protected !!