Space and Matter
Infinity define
Innumerous essence around
Heart exulted
Spirits alighted
Passion delineated
Alas!
Time flies
Mood flickers
Reason rambles
Uncertainty broadens
Nothingness sinks
Deep, so deep
Where?
Nothingness sinks Deep, so deep Where? --------- Into the planck time, where particles relate to each others through magnetic waves that sink meaning and nothingness.
And then to where doth nothingness go? A very apropos title...quite fitting indeed, as your ideaology on the concept of an Abyss, is in itself intensely inveterating...The theories, and possibilities that blanket this topic, are impossible to validate, and impossible to dismiss....Are they science, or of spirit....Is it astronomical or theological....I have written on this theme, many times....as regardless as to ehat be one's belief or disbelief....it's a facinating topic that, well....has infinite material to write about....I like your employment of short cropt phrasage, as it provides a teasing lilt, of surrealistic ambience...which is quite befitting te tone you've set. Outstanding work, young lady! You continue to impress! ~ FjR ~ ..2008..
The abyss IS time and matter - at least in a SF sense. But yours is much more interesting, it suggests a happy ending. Rgds, Ivan
Nothingness sinks Deep, so deep Where? ---------- We will never be able to explain what we understand from that point. We are only particle into the time womb...
Question that haunt us all. Where does 'nothingness go'? It feels heavy and appears to give us a 'sinking feeling, ' but how far can it descend? Can it also rise? Your poems are thought-provoking and expertly composed. Keep up the good work.
we cant help this eternal sinking into that hollowness...dont we have beauty to appreciate, , my view, ,
I am trying to get this, but at this point and time I think I am lost in translation.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Staccato images, pulsating rhythm and then.... the sinking, sinking, sinking - eternal sinking - perhaps never making contact. A dark, sombre image emanating from an enigmatic labyrinth we can't and perhaps will never understand. Making forays - no matter how brief - into that labyrinth to capture images and flesh them out is what true poetry is all about and that - my dear friend - is what you have so graciously done. Take care...