Shared with dVerse Poetics – what does art say?
Piling up all the ideas,
they amounted to waste;
(shards of dreams)
chaotic,
overwhelming.
Sharp,
j-a-g-g-e-d thoughts,
piled in spires,
leaving only a little sliver of sky
– an unfocused sea of debris.
An ANXIOUS entropy,
SUFFOCATING senses
–
When the records are reviewed
these monuments refuse art.
All the good things erased,
all the bad things entombed –
given to the archive of Anthropocene obsolescence.
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
1994ever 