Tag Archives: #aphorism

This time

This time
you waited
went away
and everyone
came back
you spoke
And all
sun’s inside
out of
the heart

© Niliema Karkhanis

From collection 2 of nearly lost poetry past, Jan 23d, 2014 (unedited).

Of meaninglessness

Photo by Alexandru Acea from Unsplash

Why are we hurt by certain things when we know our worth is greater than what has been done to us? Of course this is an eternal question.

We do all of the things. Self-care, work-to-avoid, soothe, distract, etc… & yet the pain never goes. It’s always hurt from things that shouldn’t be of such great consequence which is all the more unnerving.

I mean often of course it is a great trauma, & the depths of grief seem an endless traverse. This, however justifies itself through the healing process, because we know it was significant, such as the death of a parent, for example.

Those things though which are blips in our lives, or perhaps hadn’t much to do with us in terms of how we experience them, how we are treated, they can last for too long, our hearts enduring immeasurable suffering as a result.

I suppose that’s exactly the point, the most meaningless things are the most lingering. We put meaning into something relational or structural, & its eternal return happens to be meaninglessness. That’s very problematic on our bodies.

Perhaps there is nothing emptier than giving meaning to life & having it returned as cold confusion & meaninglessness.

Ⓒ Niliema Karkhanis

You can take that love & do something wonderful with it 💜

Photo by

Andreas Wohlfahrt

from Pexels

Something stolen like that has to be remade or returned. It has to be taken & reinspired or it has to be reciprocated. One, the other or some. But not none. It wasn’t love meant for me. & broken-hearted, I come to accept this. Let it multiply in quantum even when you […]

You can take that love & do something wonderful with it 💜

Ⓒ Niliema Karkhanis

💔 a broken heart deserves 💜

a broken heart deserves care & love as if she is her own entire self.

a beautiful self

her own self going about going about.

she is such a steady source of electricity,

she needs rest. we forget to remember her in our magic at the alter.

she is life even broken beating, arhythmically making her way.


© Niliema Karkhanis

They stood at the edge of the world 

They stood at the edge of the world  & opened a small container

Inside a light and a song Inside all the questions And all of the answers Inside all the noise

And all the silence

How could something so small and simple Something at the edge of time and space

Hold everything

& hold […]

They stood at the edge of the world 

💜 Dispatches from quarantine 💜

Photo by C Technical 
from Pexels
Text added by nrk

Dispatches From quarantine

I’m basically a robot Myself now

Or not myself now

I suppose

I work a lot

Then tell myself I don’t Because I suppose that’s easier than facing the nothingness


They often say there’s nothing that’s more of a void than meaninglessness, yet this timeframe is built upon it & […]

Dispatches from quarantine

 Ⓒ Niliema Karkhanis

Infinity for sure

Photo by Marek Piwnicki from Pexels

You are what you need. When all sense evades, you find yourself lost & found in yourself.

If fatigue has immersed you. Know you are still with your core & quantum magnetism holds the universe together.

You will revive in one way or another through the indisputability of eternality.

You are eternal. That’s why we are given doubt.

So that we recognize infinity.

© Niliema Karkhanis

All the wires

Photo by Ekrulila from Pexels

If i had one last song to write, I’d follow the story of every wire in the world. Not only what they emit. But what they hear.

After all they are taking all the energy of the earth and transmitting it. To like all over the place. We wish we could move the speed of waves and rays, but maybe that’s just because we aren’t them.

I run out of battery but the world is always on and that’s life’s most meaningful contradiction don’t you think? That everything is finite and infinite at the same time. No one really tells you that. Because they think you won’t believe it. Or what if you do? 

We are always beginning and ending again. Always. Every end has a start. Yes. Even an end has a start.

Yet nothing comes around quite the same way. Or else. Nothing would ever change. And change is everything.

That last song it might be the last but once you make a sound, it’s out there. It made things move. It made things change.

Even noise is life. Even noise is life. Not everything can be ordered or timed.

I would follow the trajectory of every last wire on the earth. I would tell every single one of their stories. The energy carriers. The live wires. The ones who had secret messages.

© Niliema Karkhanis https://link.medium.com/KDU8VV72Tdb