blank, that’s what i start and end with
all the jumble i fill my mouth with
my life,
my environment
the books, and movies
theories and meaningless
philosophical discussions
all add up to
sifting dust
through a sieve
no point
no substance
to fill the time
maybe
to distract
definitely
because this blankness
is so easy
that it takes constant concentration
it is the effortless
constant effort
to come back
to nothing
where something can begin
and be made.
am i making sense?
i know there is no combination of words
that can add up to sense.
only nothing
has meaning
only silence makes music
only laughter
can heal tears
only death
can make life a reality
only love can illuminate darkness.
the Devil is at hand
waiting for his dark evil chance
to separate
even those who would be allies
and it is we
who are not diligent
who take a wrong turn
and suddenly miles down the road
wake up
crying
from a nightmare
we just made real
by our lack of attention
by our willingness to be lead
instead of walk firmly
with purpose
with decision
with direction
er str do bulnrtsnlr
do humsn
do frsg
yo yhr vsll
yhsy vomrd gtom eiyhin
do vlodr
snf slmody insufinlr
i sm dsf yofsy
vsn hou hrst mr vsllinh`/
i nrrf `you
nrrf vomgoty, vondolsyion
nrrf s ntrsk
nrrf domr yimr
nrrf yo trvobrt
nrrf yo grrl, grrl
yhsy yhrtr’d domryhinh i sm hrtr got
sd i grrl mydrlg bsnidh
sd i gnyidixr mydrlg s million milrd
gtom yhr psin vhokinh my yhtosy
see, it makes no sense.
nothing
only nothing,
makes any sense
at all.
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