Two worlds

I stand on a high rock

Carved by the ocean’s waves and ocean’s breath.

Light spitter spatters over the water

And a knife of brine slices my nose.


The wave’s dash

Over the headland rocks, into the tidal pools,

A power I’ve nowhere else glimpsed

Slamming and twisting and turning and smashing.


In their movement there is stillness

For theirs is a pattern of necessity

Theirs is a repetition perpetual

Without crisis,

In ever flux, never change.


But us

Ever with a foot

In a world beyond these necessities.

And another caught in the changeless motion

Human human human

This thought as much a scream

“Do we expect

Our apotheosis

or the common ruin

Of the contending classes?”


Will my flesh burn

In cybernetic pyre ascending digital heavens

Or nuclear fire descending into dissolution

Will it grow old and rot upon the vine

Or will I die in our social war, old as agriculture


Into this gravity well of thoughts

Crashes a playful meteor,

Mixed ice heart, fire trail:


“Amuse yourself all you like with mental flight.

Like blood through arterial slash

Your longing pours out, red-hot and salty

It salt-poisons earth where nothing

(Not ancient oak, not brief unhealthy sedge)

Was even possible.

Ahh how you long! How you long!

Like fire burning into a warm sympathetic void,

Without hope of consummation or tinder.

Which of us wants for an unbroken world

Whilst drunk on the wine of a queer loneliness.”


Such an ill mannered brain

Now where were your grand thoughts



About timothyscriven

I study philosophy at Sydney University. In the grand scheme, I'm not very important.
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