the poetic life
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Mirror
…found a mirror. Confide, I thought, and I did. It’s a fragile concept. Not that glass breaks — and reflections are of denser surface than mirroring glass — but viewing the self in the flesh, not in vain for vanity but in contemplation, does awake an odd sense of seldom auto perception which conveys much…
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The Supreme
I have never known like thisNever like this I wish to know againLet me die hereHere let me liveLord, Lucifer, make peaceYou have lost a soulOne which is now bound, and unbound
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time not
Life is not short Ever And, in all fairness, life is not long Ever
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Joy:
This post has been revised and enhanced. Please, read the actual version here.
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On the Bed of Liveliness
I lie on the bed of liveliness, sit on it, stand, spring on it, cry, scream and laugh, all for the sake of reaching the incompleteness of life and its concrete fragility.
