title: ode to nothingness


image of tainy, empty sidewalk at night

This is an ode to nothingness,
of things that people feel are not;
Of hearts like used up vacuum tubes,
where all the battles have been fought
and lost.

Artists paint on empty walls,
and emptiness they leave behind
To tell the world of how they see,
on searching in their hearts they find

Poets write words that are not words
to eyes that now have read it all;
To minds that think no thoughts have worth;
that all expression’s pleading call
is dead.

Thus young men, knowing, choose their way,
their hearts, their minds, their senses kill.
But why, their own souls full of void,
must they upon us force their will
to die.

link to home page
link to table of contents
link to next poem: to one who cannot love me
blank image
link to previous poem: coming to wonder if
link back to previous page