x2-simon-siwakArt By: Simon Siwalk

Chimney smoke

And arctic currents

Synthesize obsidian

My days are black

And superficial

Too many veils

Have blinded

My sense

Of responsibility


The ego

Is my greatest

Magic trick

An interloper

Who stands outside

Of its manifestations

An impetus whose

Undercurrent swallows

The very surface

On which it stands


I am a virtuoso

Of nothing

The ammunition

For a weapon

Centuries before its time

The final sacrifice

In a string

Of incomprehensible scars


As you know I’ve had a lot of seizures, today as well. So this poem comes to your curtsey my subconscious.  My mind is like a big black oozing void and my hands just blindly type