Poems

The self, defined by its own illusions,
Captive of its core delusions.

Can you observe
The separate as intruder?
The possessing as alien?

With nothing to invade,
It becomes Dissolver.

Blathering on
About silence and emptiness.

Libraries are filled
With volumes on oblivion.

Language continues
To spew forth.

Is profound nothingness
Intolerable to a self-mind?

Oblivion, nothing, void
What absurdity!

We apply letters
To absence of all.

Pointing to emptiness,
Where does it land?

Obscuring inner silence,
Where are the words?