All experience is part of the path/food for the soul/sparks in the dark/lessons in matter
And we all matter even when we are not/if we are not/as we dissolve/after the meaning went
Meaning can be such a fickle thing/senseless thing/tricky thing/yet sometimes a certain thing
Things are rarely what they seem/how/look/the shapes they form around our tongues/not chaos
Chaos is part of the path/all the paths/winds/promises in motion/unsteady hearts
Hearts in roars/murmurs/songs/waves/oceans
And we all have oceans/we are all oceans/aren’t we
Aren’t we conches/echoes/seeking horizons/chasing horizons/wet
All the ebbs and flows are part of the wave/path/paths/journey
#Sussithepoet
I didn't say GOOD poet, famous, successful or even ok - poet
but a poet nonetheless.
Some things can not easily be expressed in fully formed sentences, all buttoned-up logic and sense, not by me anyway. The point of human life experience is one such multiplicity, it always astounds me how it then can also be so goddamn BORING. Maybe it is just me. It's probably me.
