i have just discovered a book on Yeats and Neitzche ... the Train is leaving the station ...
it is time to go home word further into the eternally recurring Nõ thing.
Nietzche fell off the edge into Nõ thing. Beckett's mother struggled with Alzheimers. He wrote theatre d'absurd.
Like Yeats i am going homeword to write Nõ Book in Nõ Tower
where Railway Lines meet in circles by the sea
while Roses bloom deeper still through the heart of Earth.
Heidegger wrote poetry On the Way to Language ... looping his lines till they ring a bell ...
just poetry purely academic - just academic purely poetry ... lines ringing Nõ thing still ...
"Emptiness is thus the same as Nothing, namely, that essential presencing [jenes Wesende] ...
Nothing ... refers to that which in relation to what-is [das Seiende] is never any kind of being,
and 'is' thus Nothing, but which nevertheless determines what-is as such and is thus called Being." (Heidegger in May, 25),
At this certain place in time Nõ Train turns into Nõ boat as i begin rowing up Simms Creek with Nõ paddle.
Being is Blooming, Time is Line - 0 1 0 1 0 - Being and Time, Being and Truth, Being and Ground, Being and Roses
the smell the touch the look the sound of Roses into over under through CPR lines.
Being is Being and Being is Thinking if One is Human / Being is Being if One is Rose / Why?
This is Nõ book for Everyone and Nõ One while Thinking and Thanking that the Rose Blooms.
This essay can go Nõ further and so here i will end upon this Line
with these notes still moving
in mid air
between us
where i fell
with the heart
still articulating
through the ground
of the Earth
into