Confusion

Our confusion is the intrusion of illusion
Through the contortion of proportion
And the profusion in diffusion
Of the distortion of precaution
With infusion of our delusion in conclusion

Wayne Visser © 2007

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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Ghosts

We all have our ghosts –
Ethereal presences that linger in the shadows
Of our sunny days
Ephemeral voices that whisper in the stillness
Of our starry nights
Evanescent intuitions that flicker in the iridescence
Of our lunar dreams

Ghosts of the past
Haunt the dungeons of our minds
Rattle the chains of our memories
And lure us ever backwards

Ghosts of the future
Tease us with visions of maybe
Taunt us with fairytales of what-if
And tempt us ever forwards

Ghosts of death
Lurk in the quagmire of our anxieties
Summon doubts about our inimitability
And shroud our belief in the miraculous

Ghosts of life
Shimmer on the horizon of our being
Beckon to the promise of our divinity
And illuminate the potential of our love

Imagined ghosts
Are dreamed up to animate our voids
Conjured up to question our senses
And made up to justify our mass insanity

Real ghosts
Are discarnate souls and devic sprites
Angelic guides and demon ghouls
Forever infusing light and stoking fires

Malevolent ghosts
Are thirsty parasites that leech on our pain
Hungry predators that prey on our fears
And grim reapers that slay our hopes

Mischievous ghosts
Poke fun at our childish beliefs
Trip us up on our urgent treadmills
And drop enigmas into our rational mazes

Benevolent ghosts
Shelter us during tumultuous storms
Flash us with rainbow smiles
And raise us up above the illusory clouds

Mystical ghosts
Inspire our desire to live artfully
Tickle our curiosity to go beyond
And lift the veil on life’s esoteric mysteries

We all have our ghosts –
Dancing phantoms that glide on the blurry edges
Of our waking consciousness
Devouring spectres that feast on the nourishing energies
Of our succulent present
Wistful apparitions that reflect the gods and fiends
Of our innermost selves

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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Scattered Books

I am single minded
Among my scattered books
And laser focused
Behind my fractured looks

I am neatly ordered
Beneath my messy papers
And purpose driven
Throughout my winding capers

I am quietly musing
Amidst the idle chatter
And always searching
For the words that matter

So judge not substance
By the mask of reason
Nor gauge true progress
By the whim of season

Wayne Visser © 2007

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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Riddle 1

What:
Keeps forever but is over in an instant?
Inspires loyalty but can lead to betrayal?
Speaks volumes but says not a word?
Signals greeting but bids fare thee well?

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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Under-Rated Pleasures

In life
There are
So many
Under-rated
Pleasures

Like waking up next to someone you love
And feeling the soft warmth of their body
The rise and fall of their reassuring breath
And the beating of their heart next to yours

There are
So many
Under-rated
Pleasures
In life

Like drifting between the worlds of dreaming and waking
When reality is still malleable as clay in your hands
When everything is possible and nothing forbidden
And the day’s worries are as unreal as distant clouds

So many
Under-rated
Pleasures
In life
There are

Like seeing an elderly couple walking hand-in-hand
Still together and in love after all these years
Watching them smile at each other with affection
Or better still, being that elderly couple

Under-rated
Pleasures
In life
There are
So many

Like the joy of children playing without a care
Or the lilt of a busker’s tune on a busy pavement
Like the sweet scent of a passing stranger
Or the wafted delights of food that makes you drool

Pleasures
In life
There are
So many
Under-rated

Like watching a robin bobbing outside your window
Or listening to a cat purr when you stroke it
Like the boundless energy of a dog running free
Or the tiny paws of a squirrel clutching its nut-treasure

There are
In life
So many
Under-rated
Pleasures

Like the bliss of stepping into a hot bath or shower
And the flicker of scented candles in the dark
Like the flood of relief after you were bursting to go
Or the buzz you get from a particularly good sneeze

In life
There are
So many
Pleasures
Under-rated

Like the bouquet of a good wine on the palette
Or a mature cheese that lingers in your mouth
Like the surprising joy of pancakes in the morning
Or the decadence of chocolate melting on your tongue

There are
So many
Pleasures
Under-rated
In life

Like the voice of a friend on the other end of the line
Or a pillow-soft hug when you need it most
Like an unexpected kiss or a bunch of flowers
Or the wispy words of a poet in your ear

In life
There are
So many
Under-rated
Pleasures

Wayne Visser © 2008

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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Synchronicity

Can you read the signs
Along the humming highways
Of our networked minds?

Can you see the reflections
In the meditative mirrors
Of our subtle connections?

Can you hear the musings
From the covert caves
Of our fated choosings?

Can you sense the complicity
In the overlapping orbits
Of our psycho-synchronicity?

Wayne Visser © 2003

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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Song of the Stars

What note am I? What transcendent tone
Which resonates in chords unknown
And reverberates in harmony
An unseen cosmic symphony?

What grain am I? What magic dust
Which congeals to form an earthy crust
Of mountain, valley, beach and plain
An unseen cosmic soul terrain?

What spark am I? What burst of light
Which dances over embers bright
And flickers flames of deep desire
An unseen cosmic questing fire?

I am nothing and all, the same and unique
The beginning I cherish, the end that I seek
I am mortal, eternal, nearby and far
An unseen cosmic song of the stars

Wayne Visser © 1997

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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Real Magic

I know some real magicians
The living, laughing kind
Witches and wizards of life
If you know how to look, you’ll find

The secret of their magic lore
Is to know what things can be
In every tiny acorn’s core
They see a giant oak tree

The spells they cast from day to day
Are proof of creation’s worth
In every breath of liquid thought
They ensure the world’s rebirth

The potions mixed in bubbling brew
Are ideas and ideals refined
In every active ingredient
They nourish the global mind

The wonders that they manifest
Are conjured from patient deeds
In every conscious act of will
They plant a bed of seeds

I know some real magicians
The living, laughing kind
Witches and wizards of life
If you know how to look, you’ll find

Wayne Visser © 2002

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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Life Scribes

A fresh sunrise
A blank white page
Where we as scribes
Record our days

Some words are wise
Some foolish too
We write our lines
By what we do

The lows and highs
Are traced with ink
Hellos, goodbyes
The thoughts we think

Time flits and flies
But not before
We note our lives
And play the score

Wayne Visser © 2008

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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Musings on Morphic Time

I. Measures of time

In ages past we have mapped the skies
Chartered its cycles
And plotted time against calendar and clock

Today we replace cogs with quartz
And tick-tock with digital pulse
Surrounding ourselves with time fragments

We have tugged and teased the elastic of time
In our stretching towards the stars
Light years beyond our reach

We have sliced and diced the heartbeat of time
In our journeying inside the atom
Vibrating at femto-second pace

We have analysed time in our laboratories
As if by dissecting a butterfly
We can understand its beauty

II. Music of time

Time is a song
With interwoven sounds, rhythms and rhymes
Of harmony and discord

Humanity is deaf to the music of time
Fallen out of sync and out of tune
With the universal resonance

We have become slaves
To the hour, the quarter, the year
Chained to artificial time

We should be dancing to the beat
Of the moon, the generations, the living earth
Liberated by nature’s time

Instead, we are dying
Poisoned by our selfish short-sightedness
But time will not blink an eye at our passing

III. Masks of time

Time is a cruel slayer
When it destroys our youth, our hopes and dreams
And reclaims our loved ones

Time is a kind benefactor
When it nurtures our wisdom, our pleasures and passions
And fuels evolution in all life

Time is an impassive onlooker
When it observes our species, our civilizations and planet
And sees cycles of birth and death

Time is a master magician
When it conjures our memories, our desires and destinies
And tricks us into believing

Time is an innocent child
When it plays with building blocks of the universe
And creates marvels of energy and light

IV. Masters of time

Our greatest power
Lies in the choices we make
About how we spend our time

Time is clay in our hands
For us to mould and manipulate, to shape and sculpt
Into symbols of meaning

Time does not dictate to us
Whether to heal or harm, to love or hate
But time and karma are allies

Time smiles on concerted effort
Frowns on lazy expectations of entitlement
And rewards diligence and perseverance

Our greatest task
Lies in how we are able respond
To the gifts of time

V. Mysteries of time

Scientists and mystics rent the veil
On the temple of absolute time
Revealing a fourth dimension of relativity

Seers and prophets removed the mask
On the face of linear time
Gazing with equal clarity on past, present and future

Astronomers and imagineers opened the portal
On the matrix of time travel possibilities
Journeying through wormholes in space and mind

Yet many secrets remain
Held by time close to her breast
Until we are brave enough to call her bluff

Some say that God is eternal
That our destiny lies within a timeless realm
Only time will tell!

Wayne Visser © 2001

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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