Did you know that your future
has always some kind of scaffolding
around it
or at least
bolted to one of its walls
be careful if you work on it
wear a hard head
to protect your brain
for when something fails
IV. Poetry in general seems to have sprung from two causes, each of them lying deep in our nature. First, the instinct of imitation is implanted in man from childhood, one difference between him and other animals being that he is the most imitative of living creatures, and through imitation learns his earliest lessons; and no less universal is the pleasure felt in things imitated. We have evidence of this in the facts of experience. Objects which in themselves we view with pain, we delight to contemplate when reproduced with minute fidelity: such as the forms of the most ignoble animals and of dead bodies. The cause of this again is, that to learn gives the liveliest pleasure, not only to philosophers but to men in general; whose capacity, however, of learning is more limited. Thus the reason why men enjoy seeing a likeness is, that in contemplating it they find themselves learning or inferring, and saying perhaps, ‘Ah, that is he.’ For if you happen not to have seen the original, the pleasure will be due not to the imitation as such, but to the execution, the coloring, or some such other cause.
The shadows we make and see are often more interesting and darker than what it supposed to represent I guess that it also depends on where you stand
I've only listened to your inside
but I will recognize you
if I see you on the street
I was in a church today
for an exhibition
there were also games and puzzles
The force between fire and ice
moved me in circles
for many years
it did not tire me
or wore me out
I was just finished
making circles
Your purpose
disguised by your ugliness
you might wonder what it is
What leaves you
behind
you gatherer of my light
I slowly grow
upwards
where you fade
my flower
Is
where you end
but I will find you
later
In our fall
Long ago
in summers time
your seeds not yet
as now all grown
to wait
for a day
the wind will take
when you let go
and maybe land
near soil to you
The unknown stares you in your eyes mind and plays with you a solitary game
Nochrisis 