Idea-less dust
Idea-less dust
original poetry & philosophyWhen all the ideas have crumbled
There is a residue of dull pearl
Coating thy wand, plastered by worm-webbing
Becoming mummified by the white paralysis of dusk:
Though I swear: I glanced a nacre glint in death's incisor.
The stygian landscape,
Gushing with cobalt and dark green tourmaline streams,
Barren witness to the atramentous freshets lacing its peel
That seek the solace of the midnight ocean.
The moon is of bismuth and the clouds that veil it
Are of squid ink. The sky itself is hardened black light
Which only the loftiest thoughts can soar beyond.
Daytime is a mirage wavering with a sunflower smile
Just beyond the horizon of our village.
Only night keeps company
Obscuring even the flecks
That gravitate to thy sorcerous antenna
With such colorlessness they consume all color,
With such facelessness they all beings efface.
Though I swear, I dreamt some activation's route
Whereby the pull of this black hole
Could be reversed and nourish feeble souls
Yea even pull them out of turbid dust: for once to thrive
And blast empyrean idea-less gloom to finally come alive.
Notes & philosophical discussion
If you've followed my blog for a while, you'll know I'm not a believer in writer's block. At least, not in the true sense of running out of ideas. I simply don't believe it's possible to not have ideas, although it is possible to believe you have no ideas. If you want to test the theory, create a piece of art about having no ideas, as I did here. The metaphor of a strange dust beginning to collect on one that is consuming all the color of the world and all of one's ideas came to me. Well would ya look at that, we've already got something to work with.
Art has many purposes including personal expression (often verging on the universal!) processing of experiences both favorable and traumatic, speculation about the nature of reality, creation of fantastical or fictional worlds from the imagination, educating or instructing, stimulating thought, attempting to channel something larger than oneself, attempting to express the inexpressible, building something tangible to be left to one's descendants, an expression of the sheer enjoyment of creating, etc. (The purposes are as endless as there are individuals to conceive of their own particular motivations.)
If one gives enough contemplation to the nature of reality, most will come to the conclusion that reality is either
or
2) if it is somehow limited, it is impossible for us
(at the present time) to declare its outer boundaries.
We, being integral shards of such a cosmos, share in its vastness. Whether we believe there is no limit thereof, or that such a limit is impossible to delineate, we come to the selfsame conclusion. How then could we declare our idea-lessness? Such a thing (itself an idea) is absurd! Does such a phenomenon arise in artists when they realize their art itself is to a degree meaningless in comparison with the larger truths of the universe?
Whatever the causes, self-cultivation is something of a panacea for such blockages. The soil of the psyche must be tilled, fertilized, and lovingly prepared: the seeds of aspiration and intention sown, before we can expect the flourishing vegetation to spring up within ourselves. In a world where taking total responsibility for all aspects of one's existence appears to be quite uncommon, we view those who aspire to greatness as outliers. Could it be that magnificence and genius of a near-inconceivable degree is the common inheritance of all humanity, once they arise and claim their lofty birthright?
Written by
@d-pend
2/12/18
Images areFree domain &
Edited by @d-pend.
The moon is of bismuth and the clouds that veil it
Are of squid ink. The sky itself is hardened black light
Which only the loftiest thoughts can soar beyond.
Daytime is a mirage wavering with a sunflower smile
Just beyond the horizon of our village
The metaphors in this verse is quite brilliant. In an essence, the whole stanza is metaphorized something like the sky itself is s hardened black light
That was amazing, it's been a while I saw writers use hard core metaphor but here you are.
This is really awesome I had to read over and over again.
You're become superbly out of reach in awesomeness, you're sweetly writing these days on another level.
Well I can never run out of ideas ! Infact I keep a notepad with me because ideas can jump in anytime, but when I write fiction (which I have started recently), sometimes it happens that I don’t understand how to take the story forward that it seems logical and also interesting at the same time. I will call that a writer’s block i think. But that too is solved in a few hours or days 😛😅
Space in us. We are made of star dust. The whole universe is hidden in every person. This is the great mystery of the universe. All these rivers of our vessels, a string of nerve endings... Doesn't that sound like hundreds of galaxies in space? You've got a beautiful piece of poetry. I'm into poetry, too. This is a special part of my soul, perceiving the world in its beauty and sensuality. Take a look at my work, if you have the time. I would be interested to know your opinion about my poem.
You put wings on the letters So that they can fly up
And get to make nest In the eyes that look at you
You let the pen write What the soul dictates ...
Why do you know that whoever reads to you will be nourished
by your thought word because you chisel it from the bottom of your soul
Congratulations! @d-pend To the writer of letters To the
doctor who heals souls To whom his letters give So that they reach the soul
Letters that leave a mark When you leave them ...
'Written with the pen of your soul'
You have used wonderful analogies in your poem. I truly enjoy reading them.
There are no limitations in the Cosmos, all the limitations are of the mind, you can stretch yourself how much ever you want and in any direction you want and that's where the thin line between the Good to Great comes into picture.
I think very human being has its own magnificence and its own intellect and most of them claimed its birthright. Some of them used it in a good way to help humanity but others used it to their own good and do bad things. But many others remains to live in a low profile. Each and every one of us has its own greatness but it is still up to us on how to use it.
@d-pend, Actually your poetry bringing me deepest mindset. Harder thinking thoughts indeed. Ideas creating and keep going world and humans. Without ideas non-create anything. Must thinking.......Look at around.......Anywhere's has humans ideas..Creative ideas came from deepest mind. So we need to control our mind then easily can manage ideas. Now I coming to this poem; It created nice comparison with whole planet. I swear, I'm going to deep meditation and looking human thoughts from my 03rd eye. 03rd eye give up valuable vision to us.
Note and philosophical conversation would be awesome.Your writing style most inspire and motivate me every seconds. Poetry beginners need to must follow @d-pend. You can get more valuable contest from this posts. From Creative art works, get more rewards to your blog. Just excellent blogging.
Thank you so much for sharing this poem from the ends of the blackhole you have mined another beauty.
I love the way your poems end always giving us hope:
There is no writer's block just a fear of the unexpected.
Sometimes I feel like I am going crazy and I envy those who are can get away with posting the same thing again and again. It is when I come here that energy kicks in. We spur each other on. I'm sorry if sometimes the world looks like an empty sea, a salty wasteland of places where water could have been. My blog may look like this sea but I'm digging deeper.
Thanks for keeping me inspired :)
Great writing friend. You have a rare depth to your being and your poetry is deep as well. I sometimes have to read it a couple of times to get the full effect.🐓
Though I swear, I dreamt some activation's route
Whereby the pull of this black hole
Could be reversed and nourish feeble souls
Yea even pull them out of turbid dust: for once to thrive
And blast empyrean idea-less gloom to finally come alive? .. This part got me thinking,do you have a degree in poetry, and which noble University is that. Lovely poetry @d-pend