“Existence from No Existence”
An egg is cracked, the yolk is dripping from its shells.
Each shell gets traumatized by this omelet in the works.
Soon the works fill every line, shape, and form on a plate.
How could the plate ever have filled up?
Food doesn’t cover the whole plate.
Instead, food is laid down over the used portions.
Usually the egg dish isn’t the entire dish.
A dish without a dish, a plate without a plate, a size without a size?
Maybe there’s bacon, sausage, or ham.
We add food to something which isn’t food to begin with: a plate.
Omelets are basic, yellow clouds drifting into the sunrise by your window.
Spirits are realized from the crack of dawn.
Gradual environments become remarkable for the opening or the closing.
Restaurants hover over the cracked portions- space to space, hint to hint, etc.
No chicken leaps away from the shells during breakfast of this sort.
Yes, a chicken may cross the road, but it won’t come to eat an omelet.
We’re chickens who eat chickens, but, of course, chickens aren’t always chickens.
Love has its way where the apparent vision gets combined with futures.
Sunshine comes to the dirt; and, from the dirt, a chicken just veers into presence.
Our bodies are filled with things.
Dirt transforms itself by our presence from the non-existing forms.
Can existence from no existence become existence from existence?
Is my past the past, is my future the future, is my presence the presence?
Perhaps we’ll never know if we’re really the chickens we’re digging into.
https://www.deviantart.com/gameuniverso/art/Existence-from-No-Existence-799808163
No comments:
Post a Comment