Monthly Archives: September 2019

There,

in front of the thick,

velvety

silence,

there I struggle to relax the burning

aching knots of meat and muscle

screaming against time and age and duty.

There,

with my back towards

and my focus and spirit facing away from calm

and serenity

and nothing

I drag my hand to wipe the imagined sweat

as it is cold here

so vacant beneath the closing

crushing dome

unbreakable adamant without reason.

I smell the old smell

of burned up hair

and smoking drought of purpose –

it wafts in tendrils through this quiet space

that is no space

a place between other places.

I want nothing.

There is nothing I want.

Desire lies smoldering,

one of countless cinders among the refuse,

youth and hope and attachment and vision,

one of infinite odors mingled and tangled like the fibers of my body

indistinguishable one from the other,

emergent mass of nothing from something from nothing

and back again.

From somewhere,

some noble depth of unconscious spirit sporting the facade of teacher,

from somewhere rises a spirit of gratitude

directed nowhere and to no one,

only flowing out from an uncharted,

unknowable someplace,

gratitude for the nothing and the everything and all of the sights and sites between.

 

Thanks.

Thanks from no one to no one,

thanks existing before and after

above and outside and between

that bit of nothing that calls itself me.

 

 


Baking Blowup

Our Baking Will Blow Your Mind

The Dinner

A Space for Fellowship

Mick On Everything

Just a regular guy who is interested in everything

Wherever you go, there you are.

And here I am, Judith Clarke, writer.

A Word From The Raven's Beak

Or whatever I came up with whilst eating cereal this morning

Syl65's Blog

Poetry, music, creative writing and a desire to inspire....Isaiah 45:2-7 I will go before you and will level the mountains[a]; I will break down gates of bronze and cut through bars of iron. 3 I will give you hidden treasures, riches stored in secret places, so that you may know that I am the Lord

Words are mighty

poems, and poems again

Itty Bitty Journeys

Epic Tales of Tiny Adventures

michaelalexanderchaney

literary fictions, flashes, fiascos

kellygemmill

The heart has to be able to act against itself. (m.m.)

A Holistic Journey

Finding my way back out of motherhood -- while mothering

Experimental Fiction

"Come with me, and you'll be, in a world of pure imagination" Willy Wonka, 1971

Just breathe.

Life is beautiful. And there is so much to be grateful for.

Arkadia

A work in progress

Nathan Blixt

Art, Text, Code, Design