Long Nonentity Poems
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{“When I dunk my head in holy water, to rid myself of your poison. Hatred circuits through my veins at the delusional expectancy I have clasped. I let my nucleus out of its solitary incarceration; a cage and allowed it to spiral against your wings, perhaps it was a mistake or perhaps it was not.
I understand too extensively and it ravages me, as the preadolescence of our humanity.
How much more plunges of sharp needle stick knives are we going to take? How many junctures are we going to lose our minds? How many times are our hearts going to shatter into the cold stone bricks of our encompassed cooped-in apartment? How many times am I going to hurl everything into the brick walls and wail; even though I cannot? They keep it all befouled in, clandestine, we secure the locks to our hearts.
Nonentity can get in and nobody can get out, ultimately that particular somebody found a way. Don’t they always?
I had believed I consigned to the grave my soul at the sound of your voice; seven feet under, with no withdrawal nor to escape. As The snow comes clattering, my indicators shiver as does my body, it trembles at the thought of you; I curse myself for my stupidity. I shan’t think of you. A curse I cannot undo, that that is rigorously what you are. Shall we harvest the seeds of love? It is the season of merit after all. And as the sprouts thrive, prosper, and blossom into a miscellany of flowers.
Either lavender or a cactus; either it stings or it mends. Either it desecrates you or it mends you, you wither away. The soil you ravish and push aside as you engrave in that particular hole and take out your soul from your gut, your core, and you …
push, push, push.
Seven feet under, you sheathe it with a cactus.
As if you have taken Xanax, you let your body go, numb to the core, you feel frivolity. That was rigorously what you were reckoned to discern in the first niche. entirely nothing. You are the drug, the dosage, the needle; I am the victim of your creation, if I don’t endure you I drown. Though if I do, you slither around me and staple your canines into my protruding collarbone, and suck in your toxin, a deadly poisonous substance which makes me go numb, it succumbs throughout my body. It feels heavenly, Though I am not free. We are never free.
Either we love,
Or we die."}
I set off on an ambitious journey;
Several years gone I embarked on a travel
To a beautiful destination miles away,
And I did not know the paths very well.
I thought it would take a year or two
To reach that much-desired end,
But it’s a whole seven years now
And I’m still trekking, friend.
I knew other littler destinations
That mortals of softer tissues chose,
But those I counted not manly enough,
For their easy reach, and being boring close.
And while they finished their journeys
And sat to receive cheap medals from men their kind,
I still did the tricky roundabouts and travelled on
Till sometimes the path became too blurred to find.
I might be wrong and I might be right
To hazard such a full-size risk upon my little life,
But these journeys have their stern immutable code
Once you set off, you must finish despite the strife.
I could be lost and I could be right on track,
But now it’s too late to worry or cry.
The path I took has no places to turn
And one must trudge ahead until they die.
And unlike other commoner voyages
Where one may other wayfarers find,
Here one walks alone and alone
Without turning to look behind.
There are no water spots beside the road
To sate the traveler’s long-borne thirst.
Nor are there any snack joints near
To quell the pangs of the journeyer cursed.
One moves and moves without rest
Until they either reach the prescribed end,
Or die at some fiddly portion of the road,
Such as a sharp corner or an unexpected bend.
The chances of failure are all-time high
And those of triumph near-nil bro,
No congrats for simple feats
The kind that softer men applaud with awe.
With all my woes faithful friends will wonder
What in history shall become of me.
I desire no laurels for nerve or raw bravery
Nor some posthumous honorary degree.
A simple epitaph befitting a demented traveler
Will suffice for a restless man like me:
“He Took the Road That Many Dreaded”.
And on my head plant an evergreen tree.
A nonentity I lived:
Ignoring all the risks that others could see;
A nonentity I’m prepared to die:
My only mourners an epitaph and a tree.
Invisible Door
Sometime one day somewhere one when
Maybe Friday or September two thousand and ten
Or nineteen sixty five
Someday I’m not too sure
It must’ve been then
I stepped somehow
Or miss-stepped someway
And through and into the invisible box
I didn’t realise it at the time
I couldn’t see it or when
And where ever I went
I moved inside and with it with me
We moved and were together
The invisible box and me
And in my sleep with my dreams
While waking
Slowly I so slowly I slowly vanished
Inside the invisible box
Slowly so very, very slowly
My thought became quiet
More words less than complex
And mouthing silence
I slipped from the mornings
From the mirror
And wandered nonentity
Through the toy town late at night streets
And my heart became more secret
As did my language
So my eyes became more veiled
And recognised no one
Steadily surely disappearing into nothing
The …….. ness of something inside the invisible box
And time passes in the invisible box
The years drift and life continues
A daily invisible and hourly incognito
So ………………………. ?
Now ………………………?
Who am I ?
Where am I ?
Though I know exactly these things
It makes no difference
As I continue existence
Inside the invisible box
Am I happy ?
Am I sad ?
Are my hands searching for the invisible door
Of the invisible box ?
But I think though I am not sure
It takes another hand
Someone else’s hand
To open the invisible door of the invisible box
For a long, long time now nothing has entered
And nothing leaves
A series of moments
Seen through a window or is it a T.V. screen
Though I think
Though I’m not sure
I remember everything
Funny but I can’t seem to recall just when it was
Someday one time one where some when
Maybe it was Tuesday or February two thousand and twenty
Or maybe even nineteen eighty nine
I must have miss-stepped some way
And walked into the invisible box
And time runs out and nothing you do
Goes beyond repeating
A slow steady sickness as the world forgets me
Inside the invisible box
The invisible box
Inside the invisible box
I am
nobody
He is an ant,nonentity and an entertainer,
He walks half naked in torn clothes,
dance openly in the market square
to music that is not there,
The crowd applaud with amusement.
He has no home
dump hill or underground tunnel serves as his niche,
has many relatives who come to
watch him display,
He soliloquizes,so they think;
seeing things that are not there;
Is he mad?
He eats 'fresh' food from dust bins and incinerators,
He looks healthy, never sick;
Freedom to move without hindrance,
He communes with astral beings,
he has no fear,no sorrow nor pain;
His teeth is darker than amber and
the smell from his mouth is 'pleasant and killing'.
Then comes another being-
a lion,a he-goat and a lover of money,
He prides himself in luxury;state house is his abode,
Many surround him to watch his display,
sixteen luxurious cars,with five duplexes
and a private jet,with many concubines,
Is he mad?
He eats 'fresh' meat from silver or gold plates,
he looks fresh and healthy,but sick in the mind,
cannot move freely for fear
of being molested or killed,
Is he sane?
Wasteful spending is part of his trait,
Corruption and embezzlement are his garments,
Spends money overseas;establishing industries and hospitals
in foreign lands,
while at home,many are jobless,hungry and dying;
dying from lack of medical care and facilities,
dying from poverty and malnutrition,
yet,he throws golden coins around,
Is he wise?.
Whether an ant or a lion,
The spectators will disappear,
the ovation will stop,
the blood will cease flowing
and the air will stop circulating,
the clean or dirty body will decay,
Just one day,one minute and a second;
the luxury tarnishes and
golden fleets varnish into thin air;
The two will enter the belly of the earth,
"dust you are, and dust you shall return".
Then,if that is the case,
Why accumulate wealth at the detriment of many?
Nitwits!and fools!;people with myopic visions,
They have little understanding;yet,they are educated,
Between the ant and the lion,
who is really mad?..
Part 1
1958 (Introduction to employment)
Often I drift back to the days, where it all began. To feel again
the sharp brisk morning air against my inferior nakedness,
whilst sprightly making my way down school lane, towards the local builder’s yard,
to earn my weekly pittance!
here where the first day ritual, of one’s treatment an introduction to.
“Left handed screw drivers, buckets of steam,
(and don’t forget the lid,)
sky hooks for the innovative amongst us;
and grease around the balls ‘had they been quick enough!’”
My last day of education, teacher said I was a hopeless case,
the picture they drew for me, was one of depression.
“Curriculum vitae” none existent buried deep within my soul.
“God! What I’d give to be a footballer.”
(“Newcastle United” Laid heavy on my mind.)
Yet! Who was there to help me? Why this constant inability to learn when
no one spent the time to coax, or simply understand, and encourage,
while indoctrination imprinted from many years past, handed down through
generation to generation, taught one that,
“Hard work never hurt anyone.”
(“It bloody killed my father!”)
Employment a new world, the master’s menu
now activated upon an innocent ego, waiting to be stirred, by the privileged.
To confuse the gullible “Master” moves in many devious ways, to coerce one to believe in
a system that spawns tyranny! “These Rams of society” Manipulators all, whose ecstasies
of sweet moments are drawn from the cries of menial men, those whom when on his morning tour of the works, doff their caps, as one would when Pharaoh entered the room, therefore destined to wander aimlessly, within each corporation statutory limits.
It was here an introduction to the red power, born from ideological ideals,
collective thoughts being their strength, leaving individuality as a nonentity, and a friendly threat that left me cold inside.
Yes! It is this system I grew to despise so much, yet kindled by England’s very own
“Twin seeds of learning.”
© Harry J Horsman 2012
I gave you no boundaries for all that I had...
I joined you in quest of your dreams
I unwisely allowed you to move in with me...
but you took everything to extremes
You left me not even one keepsake...
you had to exploit all it seems
So you finally reduced me to nonentity...
but you've lost too with your selfish scemes
I once possessed many luxurious things...
a home and a fancy sports car
My left hand proudly sported a bright diamond ring...
that shimmered like a twinkling star
I naively gave you a heart full of love...
you gave me an invisible scar
You're careless; you're thoughtless; you're selfish...
I hate it but can't change who you are
It's safe to say we've hit rock bottom...
and I for one don't like the views
You cannot get blood from a turnip, they say...
as you know we don't have much left to lose
Through thick and thin I have stood by you...
so I will say that I've paid my dues
But I never once received what I needed from you...
though I begged you, you simply refused
I'm appalled I allowed your careless discount...
for all I held important to me
At first I lost only possessions...
then you cost me my family
It's hard to believe I was so blinded by you...
that I honestly chose not to see
You were completely erasing all that I was...
the very essence of me
I'm at last weary of being a prisoner...
engulfed wholly by your sinister cell
So now quickly, before I'm completely dissolved...
by those ravenous waves you expel
I'll frantically climb Jacobs ladder...
to be free of this self imposed Hell
"Get thee behind me, Satan" ...
for I'm nolonger under your spell
I'm now going to wipe clean the canvas...
of this girls life you tried so hard to crush
and as Leonardo da Vinci has done...
I'll take in hand the artists brush
and with the palette of my bleeding heart...
from whence all my hopes and dreams gush
I'll repaint the masterpiece I was s'posed to be...
though sadly tis faint now my youthful blush.
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Today
Today
I noticed a small leaf float from the lush canopy and land on grass
then vanish to infinity
I sensed a primal need to amend outcome of events carried within
ominous clouds of ambiguity
I painted a virtual picture of tomorrow exorcizing enmity for amity
nestled amid spheres of possibility
I pondered a rational cause and effect of iniquitous acts as pivotal
moments silently succumb to anonymity
I aimed a magic dart at a wounded heart liberating its final breath
annihilating sufferings incurred from inhumanity
I tamed a wild squall then ask sky goddesses to remedy a tragedy
where naivete had awaken to a confounding dichotomy
I egged a crystal ball to right flawed perceptions of an alien entity
responding to hard unrelenting questions demanding clarity
I chased a black hole moving at the speed of light like gamma ray
driven by the force of weightlessness and in my being a nonentity
I dreamed a dream that annul obduracy making my visions reality
unveiling unknown horizons giving humanity a passage to eternity
I deemed a sleep did not befall; I was just imagining what may be
while sunbeams vanished during the most vital instants of the day
then planets skillfully danced with the night as stars wander freely.
Today...
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"Miniscule seeds planted as dreams...in every imaginable reality"
08/10/2022
2:28 P.M.
Aboard cruise liner:
Rhapsody of the Seas
Unmeant meanings
Words keep watch
their eyes in the empty spaces
fingers feel their unformed faces
Can words mean what they were not meant for all by
theirnonselves
even if they come clothed in nonentity
cuneiforms hieroglyphics ideophonograms
strokes signs signals sounds shapes silences squiggles squares squirms suctions squirts scuds screams squelches screeches screams or sickening sobs
words sum up fix errant thoughts
speak for all
though in tongues without jousting knights
errancy will not lead to errantry
Only the blind conceive their shape form posture
the staid but rumbunctious music of stilled hieroglyphs
the pliability of ideograms caressed down rice paper
their squiggly strands
the self-effacing hand-and-foot maidens
of matronly phrases
some leaning awry
the calligrapher’s trembling hand
all all straining upright
the custodians of invested stock
foot-stools of pouting poets
the sum-total of coveted currencies
exchanged stock variables
Who would be hurt knifes himself
with meaningless words
who would laugh
breaks out into song
the sing-song stress and accent of vowels round and strong
learns wayward steadfastness
with his words
with words
with the word
with the world of wonder in
always willing and wilful words
April 23, 1997
From the privately-pub. coll. (re-worked 2016): longhand notes (a binding of poems), Paris: 1999, 115p.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2016
Never-After
© Ben Burton
Why is it
So many godless people
Are offended by religious words
Spoken publicly?
Does reverence instill fear in them?
If so, of what?
The church lady
Swinging her purse?
If shuffling off our mortal coil portends
The end
What then?
It is done. Finis.
Who’s afraid of the big, bad nonentity?
Where is the sting?
Why is it troubling
To nonbelievers
If I proclaim to the very stars
Belief in a Divine Being?
Will it harm their children?
Influence them so much
That they fall prey to false belief
False hope
Thereby opening a path
To the glorious Never-After?
Does sincere prayer
Uttered before atheists
Lead them to despair
If so, why?
Do atheists have commandments
Precluding their admittance
To a nonexistent afterlife lodge
If their ears are violated
By a believer's
Prayer?
Or does apprehension take root
Nourished by the idea of being wrong
Thus, wrecking their chance
To make it to the dance
Maybe it is best not to believe
Risking no disappointment after death
When, upon looking around, one sees nothing
And thinks, "HA, I knew I was right all along"
While huddled masses praise His name
Elites look on with stark disdain
The common man remains inane
Blissfully inane
What flies in the face of logic
Must be wrong
Though theories with highly suspect reasoning
Are showcased as irrefutable
And spoon-fed like poisoned pablum
Ultimate proof lacking either way
But, oh, what spoils to the believer
While the atheist looks forward to . . .
Ironic? Certainly
For fate's so easily changed
In fewer words than these
In His name
Tears form in my eyes revealing my life the past and present,
questioning myself where lies my future not knowing what’s meant,
scolding myself trapped from the ways of my health,
praying for deliverance yes and a little wealth,
do I really want to point the blame,
or is it I'm held restrained,
mother father look what you’ve done to me,
a punishment for the torn love between you and he,
in my heart I know no ones at fault,
building a stronger foundation in my heart a new path I will walk,
my mind will be the only thing that makes my heart sing,
years I've stayed strong for physically enduring the pain of sustained,
rearranged from what my dreams were first made of,
eyes finally opened to that in which I embrace with a hug,
realisms I thought might have never to be me,
subjected to this life of a harsh reality,
reality I'm afraid of you,
maybe its the things I know I have to go through,
mind, heart, body and soul constricted from what lies deep within me,
a loner always to be left alone it shouldn’t be,
nonentity true life of reality has become my enemy,
a hasten awakening belly aching from real truth,
purity shot at me like bullets opened to death vest not bullet proof,
life for me has been rambunctious,
aching back breaking wishing through it all I would have been unconscious,
memories raiding my mind letting me know I'm no better than this,
as controversy of pain and love swim in my physical and mental no bliss,
through it all I've become a phenomenon strong and tall,
later to endure as a memory as I made it through it all.