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Monday, March 1, 2010

Nothing Here

There's nothing here,
So I can't be freed;
Nothing in the heart and soul of me.

Nothing's thinking,
And nothing breathes;
Nothing's blowing
The rustling leaves.

Nothing all morning
Nothing all night;
Naught between the darkness and the light.

Nothing is flagrant,
In the foaming air;
And when I go away
Nothing's still there.


  1. I have to admit to liking has a certain "Zen" quality...that moves me to....nothing

  2. I imagine that if Emily Dickinson's poem "Pain has an element of blank" was written in a deviating style than from her other poems and with a rhyme scheme, it would look somewhat like this.
    One of my favorite poems by you, and I will definitely revisit this one.

  3. Thanks guys! I'm so excited I'm almost jumping up and down in the thick nothingness. :)