Anything But Nothing

A quiet place time seeks

for us all.

A place where no man weeps;

no hungry childs voice a risen

torrent of a Mothers anguish;

no leacherous theft of sacred

parts souls can

lose to the wake of a

passing night.

A place of stillness, of

no mind where old bones no

longer care; collected; where age

continues on- a ceased concern.

A place of unknown in

previous curiosity;

a place where gods pretend;

a place lost of itself.

Everything once thought holy

this its place, in silence of a

quiet place, this no escape.

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This entry was posted in Poetry.

2 comments on “Anything But Nothing

  1. kimtelas says:

    “A quiet place time seeks

    for us all.”

    This is a comforting vision. That I do not have to seek the quiet place but that it exists organically, waiting and seeking me. Yes.

    “no hungry childs voice a risen

    torrent of a Mothers anguish”

    This is part of why I love your writing. You do not just tell us the child is crying, you show us what the crying means in a way that has no home in abstract metaphors. Yes, this is it.

    “where age

    continues on- a ceased concern.”

    I am going to find this place!

    The thought that rest, meditation, aloneness or time for soul is a luxury an escape, as un-needed haunts me in my work place and this poem is a place where the gods must pretend because this place is not an escape: it is the reality of center.

    Thank you Ian,

    Kim

  2. Ivory McNaughton says:

    I loved this website, even though i didn’t look at it at all…

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