Poem: Abstract


Abstract images
Drops of thoughts
Words and dots
Shapes I cannot recognise
Litter the horizon of my mind
Litter the streets of my brain
Spread through my veins
Like a drop of ink
Spilled on an old
Wooden desk
Hundreds of grooves adorn its face
Like the aged adorned by the years
Grooves of time make them look kind
Despite of past
Like a tired brain
Hundreds of grooves
Hundreds of thoughts
Painful and kind
Remains a grey drop
Wrapped in a case
Abstract images
Fly through
How many wishes
Sink through
Remain an abstract
Abstract, is it our existence?
Experimental thought of nature, are we?
Abstract, we remain,
Remain a questions unanswered
Remain a question not asked
Who we ask
How we ask
Why do we even care
Canvas with many drops
Grooved and tired
Old brain on a sheet, on the horizon
Sound from the old clock
Declares the time, another
Abstraction of …
Lost …
Need guidance
Need to ask
How can we ask

April 28, 2016

About alaindesade

Novelist, songwriter and philosopher. Has special interest in human relations, evolution of mind, inter-cultural complications, and the concept of God.
This entry was posted in Philosophy of Mind, Poetry, Psychology, Reflections, Religion and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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