ForkWord
Poems by Inchiki
Fairy Story
There is a sort of pain in not knowing
Relieved by?
Knowing
and the odd crumpet
So it is
The old, old story
The only story!
And masterful fairy story
That thin wedge of truth
pries you apart
and fills it all with
starry sediment
(lighter than airy breath
taste of pure water)
between long groany days
of shattered ignorance
winds blow times flow
a kind of peace in not knowing
the absence of a thought
the presence of a sound
twice missed, the human race
walks on
30.4.98
* * *
we call reality 'that which seems'
but what seams there are
fill them with gossip
lest something meaningful slip in
and abort this misconception
