Vortex

Spinning tops and turning wheels
Twirling dance and rhythmic reels
Churning waves and moon-spun tides
Whirling pools and dizzy rides

Rotor blades and tumble planes
Tempest moods and hurricanes
Magnet fields and milkshakes whirred
Spiral worlds and coffee stirred

Twisting rope and sunken wells
Cycle lives and woven spells
Swirling clouds and circle flight
Vortex love and spirits light.

Wayne Visser © 2005

Book

String, Donuts, Bubbles and Me: Favourite Philosophical Poems

This creative collection, now in its 3rd edition, brings together philosophical poems by Wayne Visser. In this anthology, he muses on subjects ranging from space, angels and destiny to time, science and meaning in life. According to scientists / The world’s made of string / That buzzes and fuzzes / Or some such strange thing / It’s also a donut / That curls round a hole / With middles and riddles / Just like a fish bowl / And there’s no mistaking / It’s more than 3-D / With twenty or plenty / Dimensions unseen / Still others insist / It’s really a bubble / That’s popping and bopping / Through the lenses of Hubble. Buy the paper book / Buy the e-book.

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T*B*L*F

Truth is the bedrock on which to build
Beauty is the shape of artful stone
Love is the roof of shimmering gild
Freedom is the choice to make a home.

Wayne Visser © 2005

Book

String, Donuts, Bubbles and Me: Favourite Philosophical Poems

This creative collection, now in its 3rd edition, brings together philosophical poems by Wayne Visser. In this anthology, he muses on subjects ranging from space, angels and destiny to time, science and meaning in life. According to scientists / The world’s made of string / That buzzes and fuzzes / Or some such strange thing / It’s also a donut / That curls round a hole / With middles and riddles / Just like a fish bowl / And there’s no mistaking / It’s more than 3-D / With twenty or plenty / Dimensions unseen / Still others insist / It’s really a bubble / That’s popping and bopping / Through the lenses of Hubble. Buy the paper book / Buy the e-book.

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Bridges

A bridge across time
Through music and rhyme
Crossing the wires
With flickered desires

A bridge across oceans
To mix magic potions
Seeing new sights
With sensual flights

A bridge across space
Where fantasies chase
Living our dreams
With nocturnal streams

A bridge across rivers
Where memory quivers
Recalling romance
And whirling rain dance

A bridge across forever
Held up by a feather
Joining our fates
As friends and soulmates.

Wayne Visser © 2005

Book

String, Donuts, Bubbles and Me: Favourite Philosophical Poems

This creative collection, now in its 3rd edition, brings together philosophical poems by Wayne Visser. In this anthology, he muses on subjects ranging from space, angels and destiny to time, science and meaning in life. According to scientists / The world’s made of string / That buzzes and fuzzes / Or some such strange thing / It’s also a donut / That curls round a hole / With middles and riddles / Just like a fish bowl / And there’s no mistaking / It’s more than 3-D / With twenty or plenty / Dimensions unseen / Still others insist / It’s really a bubble / That’s popping and bopping / Through the lenses of Hubble. Buy the paper book / Buy the e-book.

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Cry

Parched emotions
Cracked and dry
A silent call
A whispered reply
Rain pours down
From molten sky

Exquisite beauty
Beyond why
A way of being
Naturally high
Discovering wings
To stretch and fly

From the abyss
An echoed sigh
The wrenching pain
Of unthinkable goodbye
What to do
But break down and cry.

Wayne Visser © 2005

Book

String, Donuts, Bubbles and Me: Favourite Philosophical Poems

This creative collection, now in its 3rd edition, brings together philosophical poems by Wayne Visser. In this anthology, he muses on subjects ranging from space, angels and destiny to time, science and meaning in life. According to scientists / The world’s made of string / That buzzes and fuzzes / Or some such strange thing / It’s also a donut / That curls round a hole / With middles and riddles / Just like a fish bowl / And there’s no mistaking / It’s more than 3-D / With twenty or plenty / Dimensions unseen / Still others insist / It’s really a bubble / That’s popping and bopping / Through the lenses of Hubble. Buy the paper book / Buy the e-book.

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Sad Day

I never knew her
So why did it hurt to suddenly know
That she was gone?

Crushed beauty
Shattered youth
Sad day

I never met her
So why do I feel this aching space
Now she is dead?

Snuffed flame
Amputated life
Sad day

I never knew her
So why am I writing this poem
To remember her by?

Soulful eyes
Uplifting smile
Sad day.

Wayne Visser © 2005

Book

String, Donuts, Bubbles and Me: Favourite Philosophical Poems

This creative collection, now in its 3rd edition, brings together philosophical poems by Wayne Visser. In this anthology, he muses on subjects ranging from space, angels and destiny to time, science and meaning in life. According to scientists / The world’s made of string / That buzzes and fuzzes / Or some such strange thing / It’s also a donut / That curls round a hole / With middles and riddles / Just like a fish bowl / And there’s no mistaking / It’s more than 3-D / With twenty or plenty / Dimensions unseen / Still others insist / It’s really a bubble / That’s popping and bopping / Through the lenses of Hubble. Buy the paper book / Buy the e-book.

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Words

Words
Once spoken
Have a life of their own

Some words make history
Some are destined to change the future
Some words live forever
Some die almost as soon as they are born

As we breathe life
Into our words
Knowingly or unknowingly
We hope for the best

And yet sometimes
What we have spawned
Out of anger or pain
Is what we fear the most

For we create monsters
Who live an unnatural life
Turning dreams into nightmares
Leaving a trail of sadness

Some words cut deep
Some are the balm which can heal wounds
Some words echo truth
Some should never ever have been spoken

Words
Once spoken
Have a life of their own.

Wayne Visser © 2004

Book

String, Donuts, Bubbles and Me: Favourite Philosophical Poems

This creative collection, now in its 3rd edition, brings together philosophical poems by Wayne Visser. In this anthology, he muses on subjects ranging from space, angels and destiny to time, science and meaning in life. According to scientists / The world’s made of string / That buzzes and fuzzes / Or some such strange thing / It’s also a donut / That curls round a hole / With middles and riddles / Just like a fish bowl / And there’s no mistaking / It’s more than 3-D / With twenty or plenty / Dimensions unseen / Still others insist / It’s really a bubble / That’s popping and bopping / Through the lenses of Hubble. Buy the paper book / Buy the e-book.

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Sometimes

Sometimes, we can only sigh
To express the way we feel
When our inner well is dry
And our wounds refuse to heal

Sometimes, we can only cry
To release the pain we hold
When our spirit starts to die
And we’re left out in the cold

Sometimes, we can only scream
To unleash the rage inside
When our demons kill our dreams
And there’s nowhere left to hide

Sometimes, we can only swear
To relieve the pent up stress
When our heart is full of despair
And our mind is all a mess

Sometimes, we can only breathe
To endure the choke of sadness
When our body aches to grieve
And our memories bring madness

Sometimes, we can only pray
To receive the strength we need
When our feet are shod with clay
And survival’s our only creed.

Wayne Visser © 2004

Book

String, Donuts, Bubbles and Me: Favourite Philosophical Poems

This creative collection, now in its 3rd edition, brings together philosophical poems by Wayne Visser. In this anthology, he muses on subjects ranging from space, angels and destiny to time, science and meaning in life. According to scientists / The world’s made of string / That buzzes and fuzzes / Or some such strange thing / It’s also a donut / That curls round a hole / With middles and riddles / Just like a fish bowl / And there’s no mistaking / It’s more than 3-D / With twenty or plenty / Dimensions unseen / Still others insist / It’s really a bubble / That’s popping and bopping / Through the lenses of Hubble. Buy the paper book / Buy the e-book.

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An Extra Ordinary Day

What would an ordinary day be like
If it was an extra ordinary day?
If at the very end of my life
I was given just one more sunrise and sunset
How would I spend that day?

Would I rush around like a man possessed
Grasping frantically at all those dreams
That were always on the horizon
But for lack of passion and daring
Never caught the tide and made it to shore?

Would I plan every precious marching minute
Trying desperately to fill in those gaps
That forever loomed like shadows
Cast by towering expectations and fears
Blocking the light of what might have been?

What if some wish-granting genie
Conjured another day with a lost love?
If we were united once more
For a single revolution of the earth
How would I share that day?

Would I make a long nostalgic list
Ticking faithfully through those favourite things
That never failed to make us smile
And returning to all those special places
Where we’d loved most deeply?

Would I write a poem of gushing words
Struggling vainly to say those important things
That got lost in the flood of feelings
And drowned in the eddies of pride
When we were together believing in forever?

How would I use another chance to grow
In the presence of my spiritual mentor?
If the teacher appeared once more
For a final round of esoteric lessons
How would I learn that day?

Would my mind be hungry with questions
Nibbling impatiently at life’s succulent mysteries
That tease my appetite like an enigmatic riddle
And tangle my mind in a frustrating maze
Of endless dead-ends and unpredictable turns?

Would I be an empty echoing vessel
Naively expecting to be filled with fermenting answers
That would intoxicate my mundane world
And open the sealed vats of my consciousness
To startling new perceptions of alternate reality?

What would an ordinary day be like
If it was an extra ordinary day?
I can only hope that I would not squander
Such a sublime gift of time
In any of those ways I have imagined possible

Rather I would wish for that day to be ordinary
Unchanged in every way except this:
That I would be more aware more awake more alive
With all my senses fully engaged
In every delicious moment of that extra ordinary day.

Wayne Visser © 2004

Book

String, Donuts, Bubbles and Me: Favourite Philosophical Poems

This creative collection, now in its 3rd edition, brings together philosophical poems by Wayne Visser. In this anthology, he muses on subjects ranging from space, angels and destiny to time, science and meaning in life. According to scientists / The world’s made of string / That buzzes and fuzzes / Or some such strange thing / It’s also a donut / That curls round a hole / With middles and riddles / Just like a fish bowl / And there’s no mistaking / It’s more than 3-D / With twenty or plenty / Dimensions unseen / Still others insist / It’s really a bubble / That’s popping and bopping / Through the lenses of Hubble. Buy the paper book / Buy the e-book.

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Private Lives

Today
My world is bright
I am celebrating long years of togetherness
In love

As I walk to the florist
My head is full
I am thinking warm thoughts of romance
In red

Just then
A funeral procession drives by
They are mourning a lifetime of loving
In black

With flowers they try
To beautify the ugliness of death
And recall a life that once blossomed then withered
In vain

Today
I am smiling while others are crying
I am in love while others are lonely
I am safe while others are threatened
I am content while others are hungry
I am living while others are dying

Tomorrow
Fortune’s smile may turn to frown on my life
Black clouds may drift across the sun of my world
Love’s bouquet may be exchanged for a wreath of sorrow

Tomorrow
I may have reason to cry
If I am suddenly alone, frightened and hungry
If love turns its back and hope deserts me
Then I too may wish for all the world
To die

This is life
And what can we do but live it
Grounded in where we are
Conscious of when we are
Truthful to who we are
Searching for why we are

For the world
Is never one place at any one time
And though we may share
Common experiences with many
Precious intimacy with some
Still we live private lives
Inside and out.

Wayne Visser © 2004

Book

String, Donuts, Bubbles and Me: Favourite Philosophical Poems

This creative collection, now in its 3rd edition, brings together philosophical poems by Wayne Visser. In this anthology, he muses on subjects ranging from space, angels and destiny to time, science and meaning in life. According to scientists / The world’s made of string / That buzzes and fuzzes / Or some such strange thing / It’s also a donut / That curls round a hole / With middles and riddles / Just like a fish bowl / And there’s no mistaking / It’s more than 3-D / With twenty or plenty / Dimensions unseen / Still others insist / It’s really a bubble / That’s popping and bopping / Through the lenses of Hubble. Buy the paper book / Buy the e-book.

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To Live Is To Have Tried

For some the load is heavy
Others’ tread is light
But in the end we are alone
Each facing our own plight

No matter if mud clogs our feet
Or we soar across the sky
It does not help to question
The timeless reasons why

For some the wheel of karma
Others plot the stars
But none provide immunity
From bruises, cuts and scars

No matter what the obstacles
The maze of test and trial
Coping is the grit of life
And we can choose to smile

For some the way is shrouded
Others’ path is clear
But each must step ahead in faith
And cling to hope, not fear

No matter that it’s hard sometimes
With others by our side
What matters more is that we know
To live is to have tried.

Wayne Visser © 2004

Book

String, Donuts, Bubbles and Me: Favourite Philosophical Poems

This creative collection, now in its 3rd edition, brings together philosophical poems by Wayne Visser. In this anthology, he muses on subjects ranging from space, angels and destiny to time, science and meaning in life. According to scientists / The world’s made of string / That buzzes and fuzzes / Or some such strange thing / It’s also a donut / That curls round a hole / With middles and riddles / Just like a fish bowl / And there’s no mistaking / It’s more than 3-D / With twenty or plenty / Dimensions unseen / Still others insist / It’s really a bubble / That’s popping and bopping / Through the lenses of Hubble. Buy the paper book / Buy the e-book.

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