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"I cannot promise very much. I give you the images I know. Lie still with me and watch." - Anne Sexton, 'With sturdy shoulders - space stands opposing all its weight to nothingness. Where space is - there is being.' -F. Nietzsche, And when your fingers find her She drowns you in her body Carving deep blue ripples In the tissues of your mind, “I will live in thy heart-die in thy lap-and be buried in thy eyes—and moreover-I will go with thee to thy uncle’s.” -W.S, “We come spinning out of nothingness - scattering stars like dust.” - Jalaluddin Rumi, Much aboot summat, There's nowt 'ere but that which is 'ere is mine
She could sense everything
Throughout the aether
From ear to eternity’s horizon,
To the Empyrian Gate.
And consequently . . .
She heard a great deal of nothing.
Filtering forinsecal layers,
The wanted from the superfluous,
Entailed cogitations upon all time brought:
That which has ever been, or will be.
And consequently . . .
She thought on a great deal of nothing.
The expansile view from her omniscient crow’s nest
Encompassed multifarious universes,
Affording her bird’s eye a diorama of
Every umbral nook and cranny.
And consequently . . .
She saw a great deal of nothing.
She could reach out and touch
Each meandering Daedalean mote,
Every extant loitering atom,
And therefore embrace all that lay between them.
And consequently . . .
She felt a great deal of nothing.
She loved possibilities legion
Across the unfurling, immeasurable
Continuum of the multiverse,
Yet nothing held her captive like the stroke of his pen.
And that really was . . .
Quite something.
Esme's Cloud 
Oh yes, this really is… quite something! Hat is off and tea cup raised, my friend!
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Thanking you Lucy, my hat is also off and my boots are soon to follow, I join you in the raising of Brownian motion!
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You are genius today Esme! That was so good I read it twice. Ok three times. Love it!
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Well I don’t know about that Jim, hahahaha, but it’s very nice of you to say so and think so too. Three times is a huge compliment for reading as well, so thrice plus one thank yous to yoos I send in return!
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Ooh China! Crumpets and tea?
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Sadly Mr Pink nicked all the crumpet available and made off with it cackling. But just as good, nay even better I’d say, are my jammy rings. The tea is green as that’s all Esme drinks these days; there is some chamomile at the back of the cupboard but I think its expiry date is 20the May 1996, so take your chances as you will.
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Tea can sit a long time with good company. I’ll take my chances, and maybe Pink will stop in unannounced. That’s what he does, ya know.
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He’s always had a fanfare before him when stealing crumpets. Hahahahaha.
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This woman sounds a bit high maintenance, but nonetheless the poem is wonderful. 🙂 I wish word of the day calendars came as your poetry. They would be far more interesting. And while I could go on day after day, year after year and read about interesting words, consequently…I learn a great deal of nothing. However, the stroke of your pen grips me like no other, and that indeed is something.
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There’s no pleasing her eh? The universe itself isn’t enough?! Or maybe, she’s easily pleased by the smallest of things. Sometimes the micro/macro/slomo holds more than the gargantuan. I like a bit of both myself – falls about
Your last line earns you a pair of hand knitted mittens with your offsprings faces embroidered upon ’em. Wear them wisely, and thank you, dear Swarn. x
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But she can touch atoms too…so I am not sure she appreciates the small things either. LOL
Also I’m glad that you like to hold things that are gargantuan. The Professor will be pleased. 😉
And you are very welcome! I am hoping that I won’t need these mittens for at least 6 months. This winter has gone on long enough…and I am enjoying the spring weather! 🙂
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“But she can touch atoms too…so I am not sure she appreciates the small things either. LOL” – See my reply to Barry, puts things in . . . perspective a bit laughs
So far as the Prof goes – people who brag rarely have the goods I find. Hahahahahaha.
The weather is so beautiful in spring sometimes, one has to make the most of it.
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Poetry is not something I can usually relate to, but for some reason this piece strikes a chord with me. It’s possibly not what you had in mind when you wrote it, but as an Aspie with no sensory filters and a vivid imagination, most of what I see, hear, feel and comprehend is overwhelming noise, which, when ultimately processed, ends up as an extremely large amount of nothing.
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That’s really interesting to me Barry; I recall you leaving a similar comment on another poem a while back. You’ve highlighted a core element of the poem for me – she’s a receiver, a receptor, and so it all comes at her, all the information, too much really to process, a bombardment that overwhelms, and therefore ultimately isn’t so enjoyable as sitting somewhere quiet reading her favourite writer, so thank you so much for telling me it strikes a chord, you’ve seen another angle in there. My favourite poetry has many faces, and we all see a different one I think, when reading poetry in particular.
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So long as the hand shake isn’t in the nature of a Trump-Shake that’s fine 🙂
What I find lovely is that poets and artistic creators in general welcome alternative interpretations of what they do. I only wish it was so in other endeavours such as religion and politics.
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I’ll shake on that too!
It is a shame such alternate facets and interpretations aren’t expanded so, the world would be a quite different place if it were the case I believe.
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-grin- I like. 🙂
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I pleased you like misses. – beams
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Yet nothing held her captive like the stroke of his pen is that correct?
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Filth. Have you been inhabited by Professor Taboo? Is Professor Taboo inside you Hariod?
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I believe that the . . . thrust of your words proves once again: the pen is mightier than the sword (as demonstrated countless times by your own fair hand).
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Leave my fair hands out of it! The world’s gone mad! stabs him with a sword and sees if words help at all
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Absolutely superbly crafted, Esme, with wonderful precision in the lines’ flow, a deftly sophisticated touch with the grammar, a soupcon of wit and a hint at ineffable, metaphysical love. Really, quite an achievement, of which you can justly be proud. Many congratulations. H ❤
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Thank you highly Hariod, I really appreciate you saying how it comes across when done and dusted. I’m honoured you find it so – hugs him
Ineffable, what a brilliant word, I’ll have to pop it into some wordage at some point!
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Yes, a useful word, its meaning being:
‘Adjective used in reference to situations or encounters in which profanities are prohibited e.g. due to the presence of polite company.’
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Ineffable: Not able to eff. Profanities: e.g. effing and blinding. Good grief woman!
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I was showing that you were pointing out the bleedin’ obvious dearie. It’s called sarcasm.
Sarcasm – The use of remarks that clearly mean the opposite of what they say, made in order to hurt someone’s feelings or to criticize something in a humorous way
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Forgive me, Empress Esmeralda!
H ❤
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I’m thinking about it.
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I really don’t know how to say it better. ❤
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Thank you Bela! So pleased you enjoyed it, doubly so by saying you echo H’s words, which I am honoured by. ❤
Esme Cloud sending the stars soaring over Bela tonight
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Hi Bela! Are you keeping well out of harm’s way there? All those quakes must be quite disconcerting. Keeping updated on the news channels here in England.
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Thanks for your concern, sweetie. We are well out of harm’s way. Will write a post about it tomorrow. Cheers! ❤️
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Good to hear dearie!
Esme sending ❤ from upon the Cloud
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❤ And love back at ya!
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