The Work of American Poet Igor Goldkind

Being is Becoming Still


Image © Wendy Farrow

Existence is a limitless screen of emptiness
Vibrant with jubilant celebrations.
And gratitude for the joy in rolling a boulder blissfully up this steep hill.
Tripping over our own thoughts like loosened cobblestones,
We no longer see the reality directly in front of us.

The truth is a truce we struck with certainty ages ago.
After losing the desperate struggle…
To cling to some kind of hope buried deep beneath the root of ourselves.
I am fearful of fully failing myself and yet
I love myself best when I am alone with eternity.

This entry was posted on February 22, 2019 by . It was filed under beat, death, digital insurgency, Emptyness, Existentialism, Igor Goldkind, literature, Meaning of Existence, Meditations, mental health, Mindfulness, new poetry, poetry, Self-Therapy, spoken word, Therapy and was tagged with , .

3 responses

  1. Anthony Garner

    Hmm…Sisyphus. Yes indeed. Have you capitulated like Camus?.

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    January 8, 2021 at 2:51 am

    Reply
    • igorgoldkind

      Existence is a limitless screen of emptiness
      Interrupted by jubilant vibrations and gratitude for the sheer joy In rolling a boulder blissfully up this steep hill.
      Tripping over our own thoughts like loosened cobblestones,
      We no longer see the reality directly in front of us
      While distracted by our own ghostly dance.

      Like

      January 8, 2021 at 5:11 am

      Reply
      • Anthony Garner

        If you mean life is mostly shit then I would entirely agree. With reference to Schopenhauer some question whether it is worthwhile at all.

        Like

        January 8, 2021 at 5:41 am

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