Existence of existence

existence of doubt
reality of a moment
Did it exist?
Was it lived?
Was there laugh
a cry, a smile
time stayed awhile
I sensed it
Tensed it
Future, present,
immediate past
didn’t last
In that instance
did any one else
realise, materialise
their dreams
it seems, it passed
so fast, in a moment
no more, no less
I confess, nothing is left
except that image
resting, testing
my memory,
of that point
in history
and its importance
insignificance to us
to this universeIMG_2290.JPG

Advertisements

18 thoughts on “Existence of existence”

  1. I think it all goes way too fast and then we look back and wonder at least I do always am I going way too fast. Yes yes I am. I trying to cram as much life into a day as I can. Seems at the end of the day I don’t want it to end for some reason because I wasn’t finished yet with the day! I love this your writing…. you make me think for sure!

    Liked by 1 person

      1. OH ya! I know what you mean, I hate to sleep plus I have a hard time sleeping so maybe that’s because there is too much life to live! Who knows! I’ll quit bugging you! I know you are doing your blog thing (✿◠‿◠)

        Liked by 1 person

  2. I used to lie in bed as a boy and cry … and somehow my mother always appear. How? I don’t know. We had a four-story house and I was at the top. She’d sit beside me and I’d beg her not to die. She always said, “In the sense you mean, I shall.” And … and did, prematurely of a stroke. Anyway, this poem is publishable … so do it, already!

    Like

    1. Mark, I am so sorry to hear about your Mom, may she rest in eternal piece. I wrote this yesterday and the only place I currently publish is on this blog 😊

      Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s