he wheeleda barrow-loadof instants he mixeda continuumof moments he'd meltedwith a zepto or twoon a planck laying this mortaras foundationhe placed instant oneinstant two and so on building a wallagainst time ~ Poem #597 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie. ______________________________________________________________________________ Would you like to be … Continue reading a wall against
Intuition of the Instant
the white space
if only I could write this . . . nothing this . . . blank space this white would go would only remain just ahead of my encroaching pen behind it above look back do you see writing I banish the page filled as it is with emptiness and eternity words words words words words … Continue reading the white space
tick tock
how long was nothing if it was fueled by nothing I don’t know in the time of no time how long was the time spent waiting for emptiness to fill with something which part of everything contains something now right now will everywhere else take forever when will that happen (I don’t know) I don’t … Continue reading tick tock
an hour of something
an hour lasts for sixty minutes each minute lasts for seconds in a sequence measures filled up with time but an empty moment lasts for a lifetime stretching forever waiting for its time the right time to fill it into a second into a minute for an hour of some thing ~ Poem #561 from … Continue reading an hour of something
your moment waits
the moment waits a point within a void open for a thought to happen by and fill it empty biding in a null-field action taking place somewhere else some-when else away in the distance oh for a little attention oh for a little filling up with some thing now oh oh oh a void devoid … Continue reading your moment waits
an event
I look at you each glancing glance the beginning the start of my attention drawn your way I look away that glancing glance is over beginning looks ending looks instant looks away my event with you completed ~ Poem #528 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.
the novel one
he thought a thought that had no history the novelty made him warm inside he let it go he had to with no follow up no after thought no residue he only knew that he had thought it when he stumbled over a now-empty space he only knew when it had already gone he would … Continue reading the novel one
nothing
my empty thought is a void of mind an instant drained for the duration bliss oh bliss a moment of nothing at all a moment just one moment of emptiness endured and in the next I can think again with joy of nothing ~ Poem #512 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination … Continue reading nothing
consequent
everything to come starts from this moment like a breath taken in by the cosmos to be released as the flow of things everything to come began from then that moment like a breath exhaled by the cosmos released to be consequentially ~ Poem #507 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and … Continue reading consequent
finding myself backwards
who was I in the millennium year two thousand zero zero who was I in seventy-two when politics changed and the lefties rose up who was I what was I doing when Apollo went to the moon who was I in nineteen fifty-six when the Olympics came to Melbourne who was I back then I … Continue reading finding myself backwards
