NaPoWriMo/NaPoREADMo #2 — Fullness

And now for another one of me own….


One can search for the true self.
The true self is an empty shelf.

An empty shelf is a metaphor.
The true self is not a metaphor.

The true self is not an empty shelf.
The true self is three words.

The true self is not three words.
The true self is not the true self.

Keepin' the "Po" in NaPoWriMo....

Who is laughing at Who.

       What does it mean 
       when a meaning-making monkey

       says the universe is meaningless

       and another meaning-making monkey 

       writes about what the first monkey

       is saying?


       It means there are 

       two monkeys dancing

       and neither one of us 

       knows the steps.

(Image from Sun Xun's 3D animated film of scanned, inked woodblocks, Time Spy.)  

No Matter

No matter 
what you do, 
float or swim, 
life is life
whether you 
float or not.

There is no 
point.  There are 
no things to 
find.  There is 
nothing that 
matters.  There 
is no more 
matter there 
and nothing 
to hold on 
to any-
where.  There is 
nothing to 
fight for and 
nothing to 
refuse and
only by 
letting all 
these things go
can there be
ever be 
any be
finding be.

One Moment (a flash poem)

(I usually edit, edit, edit, for months, but I'm trying some un-edited stuff)
(...ok...I added one comma...)
(but really, that's all I did)
(I swear)
(I think...) 

One Moment

there is no series
there are no clicks
no clicking moments
no moment when 
one moment 
becomes another
no segments of time
no striations in the stratum
no layering of one on top of another
no clickclickclicking of ticks or tocks
only one moment,
and unimaginably long
and impossibly short