pebbles

A Game of Cat's by Nico Lund



Isn't it perfect that 
life is just a stream of X's and O's?
Each one blocking out the other as they go.
..
Doesn't it just makes sense 
that all that we see in front of us are 
cancellations, one after the other?
..
It's a string of blackout-poetry, 
and we didn't know that all the words we obscured 
and covered up contained the original meaning of life.
..
Haven't you wondered if it was true 
that who you are is just replaced 
moment by moment with someone else?
..
And this abstract version of things 
that you're trying to understand is just 
an infuriating game of cat's
that no one seems to be able to win.

Every Moment an Instinct 30/30 by Nico Lund



Oh, how we compare ourselves to caterpillars.

But it’s like the moths gravitating towards bright lights 
then dying that we mimic.

How we tell children that dreaming is where happiness is made.

That when dreams come true, 
wings unfold with unimaginable colors and take flight.

Yet, the lives of birds, insects and flowers are not so beautiful as we are told.
Every moment an instinct. 
They are not joyful for their magnificence.

Our happiness on the other hand has the habit 
of transforming like clouds to tears.

It’s not true that rain comes from the sky, 
and rain is not falling to the ground.

Why do we lie to ourselves?

At the top, will the view will be enough?

From the top, there is only room for one, 

looking down,
                                              looking down.


From the top, 
       there is 
                only 
                              looking 
                                         down.

All at Once Yet Never Together 15/30 by Nico Lund


Heart and mind. 
                                   A metaphor murmuring 
                                                          And melting evermore
                             Into puddles of 
       Desire and despair. 

    Always all at once yet never together. 

                            Which one could stand alone?

As the sea and the shore join endlessly 
                                                         Rock by pebble by 
                              Sand to silt. 

         I am left to reflect how the 
                                           Waning tide suffers 
                                                                          no remorse 
                                                       As it leaves me. 

                                                                    Returning later, 
                                           It will not grieve that
I have gone.