There is no nothingness. imagine a team of scientists building an absolute vacuum inside a tiny metal box, the others alternating, a matryoshka doll vacuum, box, vacuum a terrible candy to offer a giant sure to raise the wrath of its insatiable sweet tooth because at its center where the giant wished to find blackness, peaceful and infinite there was just a twist of hard metal and a trace of its own salty blood.
matter rushes in not to fill the void but to negate it by defining it bounding every nullity cradling every hole and expanse. scientists and giants co-exist, perhaps uneasily, but what of it? the giant wants to find an end the scientists want to define it and in imagining a place beyond the reach of consciousness they destroy their own work and give the giant another reason to curse their existence.
a poet from Seattle Washington USA. His poetry has appeared in print in publications such as Bellowing Ark, Point Nopoint, and most recently in Contraposition magazine. When not writing poetry he is a Human Resources professional, a repentant glutton, and a novelist specializing in the weird-fiction genre.
She pressed her ears to the ground- to feel the vibratos of his words. They tiptoed into her senses- barefoot bleeding tact on facts. Flustered with assumptions- they trampled a mockingbird! It raised its head unafraid- gasping for its last
like walking in a tulip garden i undo the aquablue, how many steps you were away, entwined like mangrove: our roots were standing upright to breath in moist silhouette of equatorial sun, blooming in anguish of separation: come one day
“The voice that sings your name is sweeter than the midnight sleep, or the sweetest melody; The mind that drives me to you is dearer than the intellect that is deep; The sweetest melody will turn less sweet, Deep introspection
I write in riddles so no one will ever truly perceive me. I speak in riddles creating a web of ambiguity. The void is full of that voice. Whispered suggestions that give me no choice. Words in my head that