Mimicry (A poem)
Hi, Hiveans lovers of poetry and musing. And thanks for dropping by!
What do you think when the wind stops blowing all of a sudden? ...Like that moment in a horror movie when all sound effects are quieted so you ca be alone with your fear...
I consider it useless and tedious to represent what exists,
because nothing that exists satisfies me.
Nature is ugly, and I prefer the monsters of my fancy to what is positively trivial.
—Charles Baudelaire
Mimicry
The wind breathes
this vacuum in—vigorously,
from the top of its lungs.
A sudden pause, deafening.
(Motionlessness.)
(Soundlessness.)
The world stops for a moment,
leaving senses useless.
The realization of this futility
renders us ineffectual.
Whatever we’ve come to do
on this planet?
But the blowing will resume
as soon as we start to panic,
so our brain can decide it’s better not think
about what’s just happened.
It was that moment, fight or flight,
but we did none.
We froze,
We were that pause,
when the wind breathed
all that vacuum in:
The hideous nature of nonexistence.
Thanks for reading poems.
Text and photo are mine.
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