"Every tattoo is a story. What's yours?" she asks.
"Todo fue en vano," I say.
Wasn't that all it was?
All that's left of me now is meaninglessness,
and all that's left of you is an abandoned past.
If not for you, what was this life made for?
What use was this skin if not to remember your touch?
Why was breath placed within me if not to lose itself at the sight of you?
And what purpose had this heart if it was never to fit in your embrace?
Witness how my face has grown crooked from your indifference,
how I have shorn my hair and scattered it among memories of your hands,
of the way you would caress it
and claim it as yours.
"Without you" was once an imaginary illusion.
Now it is a salient reality.
So I remind my flesh
of how worthless you've made me.
Todo fue en vano.
Rain's eloquent sorrow, unheard when
Youth's surge was proceeding
More impressionably wrung out of
A subsequent heeding.
Talk, once run-related, spluttered
In meaninglessness about
Struck of, when night-slouched, prints for
Loneliness leaves no doubt.
There seems a
departing from
innocence and
meaninglessness
to fill a role and
discover meanings
in what seems
happening~
yet meaningless is
the home never
departed~~
I was drenched in black water,
Yet, it looked as though I were dried out.
I stood before a lighthouse,
Yet, remained unseen.
Gazing into the sea’s blackness,
The highest tides forever circled me.
My eyes could find no anchor,
As my dark hands sailed towards the farthest shore.
My home, too, was cloaked in shadow;
Something unseen, yet present, walked with me there.
The map and the wanderer within me never agreed.
Colours were but drifting sailors in my life’s vast sea.
Different souls sail different paths,
Tides come and go.
Memoirs float like driftwood.
Something vast yet fragile appears near the stones.
My grave is smaller than the stones,
Its epitaph; empty and black.
I performed on countless beaches,
Yet, nothing remains visible on this blackest shore.
It is the world of Shiva and Shaitan
It is the world of Krishna and Kant
Devi on Nandi holding Demon and Son
Devotees, Deities, Ash, Claps and Fun
Fragile girl carrying child in her arm's
Not mother but a sister’s virgin palms
To Die for him but not a bruise to touch
Just Bottom pinching nothing too much
Anguish in her arms to shut the door
Hammer or Paedo, they break the core
Unreal city under brown fog of cold dawn
Slogans, Sighs where savage zombie born
Cow with a nose grip lost her way
Is she mute or has nothing to say?
Another one eating her own skin
Is there Anyone left? kith or a kin
Her body is torn open with the blood
No milk, No Calf. Here screams flood.
Whose psyche has come to my physique? Do I ever know?
I accept it as a stream accepts the fresh rain and flow.
In Ram, Rahim, and Robert, Rajeet this soul might have been
Did this dwell in Buddha and Jesus in a form unseen?
How many bodies had merged with the dust like earthen pots?
How, like feeble flies, has it passed through many throttling knots?
Did I get through any fragrant flowers and fleshy fruit?
Did I breathe through violin, guitar, sitar, flute, and lute?
Entwined amidst meaninglessness are wisdom and reason
Amidst winter, fall, monsoon, and summer, there's the spring season.
When absurd ends put a pause on flawlessly flowing streams
As though after dreams, before me dawn rays of rainbow beams
Peace, bliss, Nirvana, liberation, or transformation
New life, new hope, resurrection, or resuscitation
Concepts, caprices, conceits, and convictions could continue
Life, yet, like a fountain in flux, would secrete nectar new
Natural death licking aims
Now our bleach seasons heirs
And the pubis of public lore
Intrauterine spinning blue dream cream
Roils rushing a rock star’s semen searching
For golden lands of rum and sable ladies eyeing
Blown ear-drum truth percussive
Hand-grenade vibrator lipstick hash
Recall spinning reams in a hyperinflation
Of love overture blend ground night hues of whispers
Meaninglessness long snaking verbs of silence wilt low
Screw worm elect obscene emotive drooling apocalypses
In shadow's tomb—
A dim, aimless flicker...
Void's grip, timeless
claims all.
Fantomsound: life's song is just a cognition in the null.
Rain, pain—
Stardust, dust, flesh
patternless on oblivions loom.
Decay's dance a molderwaltz,
Fingers grasp at phantoms
no hope
Peace in the abyss's open arms. Not…
Unveiled—darkness, despair's shroud
enigma's veil.
Hearts, no soul, toll; unpaid.
Dreams surrendered.
Woe's tale on wastesphere's icy breath.
Void's sigh,
Sun bleeds on the endless fight.
Souls adrift, yearning
churning, burning
Accept, the void's silent
starlit song mute.
From nothing, is nothing, in nothing /
to nothing, for nothing
Fade to black...
In forms of crusts and curves and caves and carves and undulates,
The vacuum looks exceedingly charming and gorgeous;
This vacuum, yet, when becomes a throne of naughty fates,
Heart and mind get twisted and turned into strains enormous...!
When vacuums are crowded with cockroaches and lizards,
The environs become disgusting and nauseating;
Vacuum can turn violent when gnawing, like blizzards,
When, owing sorrows and sufferings, life grows frustrating...!
When silliness and meaninglessness fill the vacuum,
Pessimism, like thorny plants, fills the fields of existence;
Delight, like chased-out parrots, leaves the heart's loveliest room,
Towards pain and bareness does vacuum show resistance...!
Even richly strong life could be, like chaff, easily blown,
Wisdom filled vacuum can become a heavenly throne...!!!
What do they mean?
Three little words so often seen
Thrown around by those who know not, how-to give or show
Like a strong winter storm filled with ice and snow
However a chosen few see the true point they make
Choosing to give infinitely more then they ever take
Looking past the meaninglessness of the sound
To bestow emotions so beautifully profound
The kind of affection that which leaves someone helpless
Rendering empty thoughts totally worthless
As we spend life trying to pursue this
Those beautiful words become devoted to trueness
I find more so then thereof
This applies to those ones that I love
The Solitude of the Candle
David J Walker
The sweet smell of spiced
paraffin and flame
the solitude of darkness
I am the name
I am the sound
of the moniker
and bound
To hold the meaninglessness
of a darkness
in a
Darkened frame
In a dark space
In a dark place
Just beyond
The Candles claim
And will be remembered
So long lives
The candle's flame
Mingle with me, in a misty, mimosa moment.
Make my metric mistakes so minuscule.
Maximize my poetic meaningfulness .
Minimize my meaninglessness.
Of my most memorable moments, let me pen.
Memories with members, with momentous souls.
Poetic mathematics, Misty Angel, is my goal!
3-19-2022
I’m always before, not behind you,
Though often heedless and unseen,
Present in every shade, tone, or hue,
In rain or shine, and in between.
I’m neither a shadow nor a ghost,
Very existent but not flesh,
A functioning and practical guide,
To life void of meaninglessness.
I’m both anticipation and gift,
For now and unforeseen future,
Have spiritual fire to uplift,
From procrastination’s torture.
I tender myself devoid of force,
Freedom of choice I’ll always praise,
Will respect your decisions, of course,
Throughout all your ensuing days.
With me, tomorrows you can embrace,
I work best beside good ethics,
Love the Creator’s amazing grace,
Without which life is pathetic.
Just who am I, you must be saying,
This prospect of veracity,
Steadfast, real, and never wavering,
My name is Opportunity.
The world went on without me
No one noticed at all
after I winked out
like a burned out lightbulb
the last flickers of flame
licking what little
is left of the wick
of a dying candle
before the room goes dark
A wisp of smoke wafting
Words were all I had
to give but
no one wanted them
like the gift of an
ugly sweater
left lying unworn
in the box in which it came
on a closet shelf
for the sake of propriety
until it’s been forgotten
by the giver
and can be tossed
without guilt
So I sit in solitude
musing on
meaninglessness
as these four walls
cave in and crush me
hello world without surprise.
good morning gentle tedium.
seduce me, please, monotony.
kiss me, sweet emptiness.
hold me rough, nothingness.
dishonor me, meaninglessness.
ravish me, joylessness.
whew... can a girl get a cigarette?
no, I don't really smoke - yuck - that was a joke =]
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