Tonight, I won’t write anything at all…
I’m throwing in my quill,—who am I fooling?—
I’m throwing in my keyboard, overruling
my instinct for seriousness,—o how small
and earnestly banal…/I mean!, the gall
of an Artiste not sat at home drooling
on their craft and crafting another grueling
chef-d’œuvre,—Bah!—leave that to the alcohol!—
—@-tack your ’s-periment__’n’|defend|
mine own: for the[object]of this{subject}
is Anihilating your nothingness.
Yea! all this—and (, verily,) nothingless.
Avoid a void?,your void—I“[-VOID-]”| perfect
disdain,—no mask upon it to append.
INTERLUDE
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS
When an event confines you to a quiet, lonely solitude
You are sentenced to an unending feelings of lassitude
The ongoing nothingless wallowed me in endless jejune
And slowly eroded the passions and joy that I once knew
I have resolved my future just to play out the game
To relive moments of joys, over n over, is not the same
Unconsciously, I began to recede from joyful activity
Hiding my loneliness, hoping time would set me free
Every tomorrow, like yesterday, a fruitless trial
I needed something, someone to cause me to smile
Suddenly realizing there must be others like me
Victims of losses, surviving, clinging to memories
I began searching, hoping to find a similar soul
Keep me from plunging down this debilitating hole
I found someone that has unyielding ties to yore
And wants to recapture feelings known before
Alas, never the same, too many emotions strained
Difficult to replace reveries so painfully gained
I won’t replace her loss, nor will she replace mine
We’ll comfort each other in what’s left of our time
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