Braden Coucher

Rookie (December 10,1986 / Portland Oregon)

Everything Is Nothing - Poem by Braden Coucher

A vacuum pulls dust into space.
The beginning of time
Happened just the same.
Sucking up some somethingness
And spitting into void,
The sperm of stars in emptiness.

From sperm comes life,
Stars seeking servitude.
Sometime later
When man is made
He spits out his own sperm
The vacuum born from nothingness
And sucks itself in solitude and creates a whole new void
Between his earlobes or walking pair of shoes.

Then man from dust
Starts out with wheels and words.
The wheels turn
From absence in their center holes.
As man is made from aperture, the void within the womb,
The vacuum is a certainty and certainly his own.

There’s Space between his words, they’re readable.
Then when spoken from the diaphragm
The void begins again.

As he wakes in plane of sleep
As a particle of dust in lucid life
He’s loosely defined
And still inside his dreams.
He looks up to the stars for life
Until he and they are dim.

The breath and dust of man sustained
As absence in the wheel, turning around nothingness.
His diaphragm of vacancy avows his breath to be
Until the bag is emptiness as man and stars set free.

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, May 15, 2011

Poem Edited: Monday, May 16, 2011


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