Nothing is what we see
A mirror of nonexistence
We live in painted clouds of illusion
A bent line is the shortest distance
Vibrations sing to the deaf
Twisted lines weave the purest mind
Obeying a crime
Darkness lights the way of the blind
Mother's words stand out
the wind engraved
dancing the tango in a funnel spout
All laws broken emancipating man enslaved
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Author:
sorenbarrett (
Offline) - Published: March 18th, 2024 16:07
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
- User favorite of this poem: Teddy.15.
Offline)
Comments5
You are making it all up, Soren....😊
With my inability to fully appreciate metaphor - I can still agree/endorse your first three lines. You cracked it then, as far as I'm concerned.
No Dave you cracked it. We are all making it up, everything that is. Thanks for the review and comment.
Got me there Soren - and you are absolutely 100% on the money.
Powerful work.
Thank you Thomas your read is most appreciated
Nothing is what we see
A mirror of nonexistence
We live in painted clouds of illusion
A bent line is the shortest distance
My dear sorrenbarret kudos. Such poetic power throughout. 🌹
Thank you Teddy you are too kind. I always look forward to your comments.
Good write SB.
We are never doing nothing, in one sense. We are at least breathing, if doing nothing else.
Well, I was breathing the last time I checked. How about you?! lol.
Yes I think I am still breathing at least the last time I thought to check. Yes indeed doing nothing is a paradox.
I tried not breathing for 24 hours one day. I succeeded (it's a miracle!) but didn't feel very well afterwards. Should we all try it - have a 'Save More Air Day'?! lol.
A bent line is shortest and a funnel is wherever we dance. I love this. I don’t yet no why but maybe that’s the special element , I keep going back
Thanks Bobby I appreciate the read and comment
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