NØught
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
Kierkegaard
As faintly as the cosmos feels our breath,
It feels our hearts much less, that’s if it reads
At all their beats. Significance Macbeth,
As hardened in his fist as nun’s prayer beads,
Grasped well. Tomorrows and tomorrows and
Tomorrows, never mind how strictly set,
Are no more meaningful and no less bland
Than long forgotten yesterdays. Forget
Is what eternity does best. But if
It never notes us in the first place, that
Lack is even worse than if our whiff
Is lost, void as a cyberspace lost chat.
So what if we’re remembered? Then, so what?
It all zooms down to zero, nothing, naught.
~ Phillip Whidden