The blue window
distorts
into a black
mirror
that opens
for relief
Nochrisis
Poetry
Day 1113, all we know.
Day's pictures, Poetry
Interpreting
writings on the wall
when the downfall is past.
Is that all we know?
Nochrisis
Day 1112, vessels.
Day's pictures, Poetry
I think of
time
colorful memories
fluid
stored
in decaying vessels
for…
Nochrisis
Day 1111, track.
Day's pictures, Poetry
The track we leave
and go
are for us
ours alone
still
we are
connected with
the ones
thought of
as
left behind
Nochrisis
Day 1110, concrete.
Day's pictures, Poetry
Walking through
a concrete world
where the sun never sets
and the shadow always follows
Nochrisis
Day 1109, stacking.
Day's pictures, Poetry
Stacking your thoughts
in the order they come to you
is a thought process.
Nochrisis
Day 1108, destiny.
Day's pictures, Poetry
Time and destiny
two illusions
to replace the fear
of being
slowly pulled
in
to the end
Nochrisis
Day 1107, meaning.
Day's pictures, Poetry
Figuring out
what something is
that is freed from
any meaning
doesn’t feel like
the end
when you don’t
try
Nochrisis
Day 1106, lined up.
Day's pictures, Poetry
Lined up patterns
of thought
are tend
to box
us in.
Nochrisis
Day 1105, decent in.
Day's pictures, Poetry
The mirror I decent in
has no reflection,
and inside, I stare
at a thousand directions
to see nothing but silence.
Only the cold reminds me.
Nochrisis
Day 1104, believe.
Day's pictures, Poetry
When people started dividing,
in the cave we never left,
the few in front of us all
where only closer to the shapes
the shadows of what is not
for us all.
Nochrisis
Day 1103, looking into.
Day's pictures, Poetry
Looking into a window
seeing
the darkness
a reflection?
Nochrisis
Day 1102, forgotten.
Day's pictures, Poetry
An old house
abandoned
the bench in front
its view
forgotten
Nochrisis
Day 1101, evolution.
Day's pictures, Poetry
Human evolution
sometimes
it seems to stand still.
The other times
it is.
Nochrisis
Day 1100, horizon.
Day's pictures, Poetry
The road to freedom
ends
where the horizon
begins.
Nochrisis
Day 1099, stairs up.
Day's pictures, Poetry
A corridor leads
to stairs up
dimly lit
by ancient, incandescent
its filaments
humming
counting down, to their end.
Rushed by the cadence
I feel my way
up
eyes closed
foreseeing the darkness
escaping time
ending.
Nochrisis
Nochrisis 