a poem about nothing

Sometimes imagination walks in the mist
Barefoot, it senses the ground
Stumbles in the steps of oblivion
Cautiously treasures anonymity
Divorces every reference
Aspires to a minimalist sublimation
Loses itself in the vastness of silence
Finding only a grey abstraction
Getting excited in the presence of monotony
Screams for a mundane tedium
Drinking the darkness with the eyes
Witnessing the nudity of words
Smiling at blank sheets of paper
Celebrates the emptiness of the pampas
Dances in the invisible turbulence of the air
Craving for a cosmic vacuum
Enjoying the ultimate pleasure of nothing

 

Poem About Nothing

This is a poem
about nothing

about something
this is a poem

about someone standing
someone lying down

somewhere with doors
closed, doors

open: people are eating
breakfast perhaps: their faces

are peaceful
with chewing

with tasting
sharp smells rise up

from the street, rise up
from beds, from carseats

men and women are walking
they are all going somewhere

else: their arms
swing, their legs

swing
from their hips their clothes

hide, their clothes
reveal:

there are always secrets
among us someone is lying down

somewhere or else

someone is standing up

the doors there are open
the doors there are closed

 

Poem About Nothing

It's late, the day passed
Slow
Simple
I read some
And I wrote some
And all it did was
Stimulate
And Pacify
Me from ranting on and on
About God knows what
Then I get back here
Where I can
Rant on and on
About only God knows what

This is a poem
About my day

 

A poem about nothing

I'd dreamed about a poem with no words
and a world where no-one
could say anything specific
there were no labels
and no signposts,
no information to download or upload,
but passiflora tumbled down the cliffs
like waterfalls.
So I slept without dreaming
in case the dream was death.

 

A poem about nothing

To the world:
I’m witty.
Inside:
I wither away.
To the world:
My smile shines.
Inside:
My heart dies.
To the world:
These poems are just my bad dreams.
Inside:
I lie, I lie!
To the world:
I’m fine, really. Don’t worry about me.
Inside:
I’m always crying.
No one really cares.
Why should they?
I’m nothing in a world of something’s.

 

Nothing Poem

A poem about nothing...
Flowers grow
Birds sing
Rain falls
Thunder roars
Lighting strikes

Flowers grow
Birds sing
Thunder roars
Lighting strikes

So on and so goes this poem
No end to this nothing poem
There is no end just so on and so on.